Shoot out the lights

It's been an awful week. In English class we spent four days trying to figure out if Hamlet was a good person or bad person. I hate my stupid teacher and the way she always makes us look for stupid moral lessons in everything we read. The principal is an idiot, too. First he forces everyone to either participate in or watch the "Gym Jam" for Halloween, then he goes ballistic when one act has technical difficulties. Thanks to stupid rumours, and I'm not sure what else, Jeremy and Becky McGuire now have daily locker searches, and the rest of the school gets random ones. I'd search whoever gave Duncan and the rest of his band the idea to wear whatever it was they wore for the "Gym Jam" (and I'd get whoever came up with the name "Gym Jam," too--it sounds like nightwear for toddlers).
We haven't got much else to do in Milborough, so the gym was full. I talked to Jeremy, when he wasn't busy trying to set up. We both watched Duncan and the band do their one song.
"What are they wearing? They look like the house band on the cruise line of the glammed," I said. Eva managed to have about half the boys in the crowd staring at her chest. Duncan looked silly, and didn't have a mike although he and April both sang backup. Jeremy just shook his head a lot when I asked him questions, until we both just stared at the beer bong waving out of the coffin the band had behind them.
The band was supposed to strike their gear so Becky could set up, but Eva pulled them all backstage. Jeremy was trying to strike their gear, set up Becky's, and set up the sound board by himself. I left him alone and went to the exit doors. It was hopeless trying to talk to Duncan, since Eva had him under constant lead singer surveillance. I went to the washroom and missed the rest. Zapata told me the next day that Becky's band flaked out and the sound was shot, or something.
"Whoever was proctoring the whole thing thought there were drugs behind it, or something. One of the guys in the band that went on before said something about someone being stoned, and it just went from there." Hence the occasional locker searches. I hate this stupid school.
I'm sort of in trouble myself, after our trip to Toronto over the weekend. My parents looked fairly annoyed with me the day after, and they said I kept on talking about rabbits. I have to admit they're getting pretty inventive with punishments. I have to assist Arne at the Three Kronen's first karaoke night tonight. He's threatening to do magic, too.