The Spirit Week Rampage
May 2005

In the dimly lit robotics lab at Middletown Middle School, their robotics team was stressed. The four students huddled around their poodle-sized creation, WENDI. Her cold, metallic body remained unresponsive despite their efforts. Failure was not an option with the State Robotics Olympics less than twenty-four hours away. Adding to the difficulty, it was also Spirit Week, filled with wacky hair, silly socks, popsicles, and pep rallies.

Kyle Kingman let out an exaggerated sigh. His spiky blond hair seemed to stand even more on end. “This stupid bot is useless. We’re going to get slaughtered out there tomorrow.” From the beginning, he had been the driving force behind WENDI’s design, but he lacked leadership skills. He had two moods: brash overconfidence and angry pessimism. The identical twins, Edgar and Edward McCormick, exchanged a skeptical glance, their lanky frames rocking nervously. As the programming experts, their coding efforts had yielded no answers and they were out of ideas.

The fourth member of the team, April Batty, was the lone voice of optimism. The bright and determined 13-year-old had warm brown skin and thick curly hair that bounced with even the slightest movement. “Don’t say that,” she whispered, placing a gentle hand on WENDI’s lifeless limb. “We know she can listen ’cause the light goes on. She’s just not doing it. We’ll figure it out.”

“I think Kyle’s right,” said Edgar, siding with pessimism. “She’ll get torn to pieces by those Topeka robots. No matter the code, she’s not moving. WENDI doesn’t want to fight.”

“Maybe she’s a pacifist,” Edward followed.

April gave Edward a sharp look. “Where’s your team spirit, WENDI deserves a chance to prove herself.”

The four had put in the hours in recent weeks, affixing the menacing saw, the spike hammer, and the flamethrower—all in pursuit of creating an unstoppable machine. Yet their remote stubbornly refused to communicate, rendering WENDI silent.

Mr. Greenwood, the science teacher, and reluctant robotics coach appeared in the doorway. “No luck?”

The kids shook their heads in unison.

“Well, congratulations, you built a beautiful sculpture. Maybe you can use it in art class,” he said deadpanned. “I’ve got to get to the pep rally. The clock’s ticking.” The teacher left the four anxious students in the science lab.

“He’s no help,” Edgar said.

“I don’t think he’s coded a thing in his life,”  Edward followed.

The weight of looming failure sucked the air out of the room. “By this time tomorrow, it’ll all be over,” April reminded them, her voice straining to remain upbeat.

“Yeah, in last place,” Kyle kicked the robot. A piece of metal clattered to the floor. Kyle picked it up and tossed it across the room

The twins flinched in unison and shouted, “Stop it, Kyle!”

“Make me,” Kyle retorted. “If you’d gone with my design, we’d have a working bot. It’s a lazy son-of-a-vacuum, and it’s not my fault it doesn’t work.”

“Kyle, you’re being a jerk,” April muttered. “More than usual.”

An uncomfortable silence lingered between the team before Edward finally broke it. “This is your design, Kyle,” Edward said.

Edgar quickly backed up Edward. You didn’t even let us pick the weapons,” Edgar added.

Outside in the hallway, a short, stocky boy peered through the window watching the argument in the lab. A girl on roller skates glided up behind the boy.

“Hey, Brad, what’s all the hubbub?” She glanced into the lab but didn’t stop moving long enough to make out the action. “Is there gonna be a fight?”

“Nah, they ain’t the fighting types,” Brad said.

Smoke from the pep rally drifted out of the gym and into the hallway. The girl on roller skates moved through it and the fog danced around her. She stopped mere inches behind Brad with a big smile. “Remember when you gave Frankie a black eye?”

Brad nodded.

“You’ve been watching them a lot. Guess I know who the crush is this year,” the girl on roller skates whispered. “April with the curls.” 

“Nah,” Brad protested weakly. 

As the fog thickened, the girl whispered, “There is a way you can help them. Give ‘em a fighting chance.”

“I don’t—” he started to protest, but the fire alarm sounded and drowned out his words.

The constant blinking of the warning lights powered through the haze and the robotics team rushed out of the lab. Kyle and the twins ignored Brad, who stood out of the way against the wall, but April paused, shooting Brad a look of confusion before she disappeared into the fog. 

The girl on roller skates skated unseen by anyone, but her melodic song cut through the siren’s wail. “Brad and April sitting in a tree…”

Brad walked right through the closed door like it was made of mist and found himself alone in the vacated lab, staring at the small, ugly robot. Brad reached out to touch the robot’s cold metal surface. He admired the engineering but had no idea how it functioned. On the front, WENDI was etched the acronym WENDI stood foor: Wired, Efficient, Nimble, Defensive, Intelligent.

Nearly an hour later, the firefighters gave the okay. The robotics team, including Mr. Greenwood, returned to find the robot powered on, and its saw blade spinning fiercely. It remained unresponsive to the controller, even when they tried to remotely turn off the spinning saw blade.

Kyle moved forward to manually turn it off but was stopped when the spike hammer moved slightly, grazing his hand. “Ow! The stupid thing hit me.” Kyle saw a trickle of blood running across his knuckles, triggering his rage again.

With a savage kick, Kyle knocked the whirling robot to its side. He kicked the machine once more before April jumped in front of him. The twins physically restrained Kyle. Finally, the robot’s high-pitched whirls faded to an eerie end.

“Go get a Band-Aid, Kyle,” Mr. Greenwood ordered, the adult voice in the room cuts the tension. “Everyone be here at 9 tomorrow to load the robot. And drop the attitude, or don’t come at all.”

Kyle couldn’t resist taking one last kick against the defiant robot. The robot responded with a quick and loud whirl from its blade.

“Knock it off!” April shouted.

“This stupid thing is going to get us in last place,” Kyle grumbled, cupping his injured hand.

“It’s a robot,” Edgar pointed out.

Edward concluded, “It’s only as dumb as its creator.”

Kyle let out a groan, tasting the bitter flavor of his blood on his tongue.

The next morning, April arrived early at the lab to prepare the robot before the competition. With painstaking care, she polished the joints and refitted its menacing saw blade attachment. She spoke softly to the robot, as if confiding in a friend.

“Don’t listen to Kyle. I know you can win today. Let’s show them what you can do out there.”

As she tended to it, April noticed a crude new engraving etched over the WENDI label. In its place, carved crudely into the metal, was a new acronym: B.R.A.D.

“Battle, Robotic…” she murmured aloud, trying to make out the last two words. When she put together the letters, her spine froze. “Assault. Destruction.”

It felt disturbing. Who could have done this? And why? She couldn’t wait until everyone arrived so she could get answers.

“Our robot is a boy?” the twins said when they arrived, surprised but not filled with the same feeling of dread. Similarly, Kyle and Mr. Greenwood didn’t seem to have the time or bandwidth to pay it any mind.

“Let’s go,” Mr. Greenwood’s curt announcement was all business. Together, along with the help of the bus driver Portis, they carefully loaded the small but heavy robot onto Bus J.

Along the way to Topeka, they worked feverishly to fix the switchboard and remote connection issues to give them some glimmer of hope. Failure to establish a reliable remote link meant disqualification and no class credit.

When they disembarked and loaded BRAD inside the cavernous space that made up Topeka Central High’s competition arena, April’s nerves were frayed. 

An octagonal stage dominated the space, its tempered steel surface laminated to withstand the inevitable barrage of white-hot sparks and shrapnel to come. Already she could envision the wreckage that would surely ensue once smart metal collided with their dumb hunk of junk.

BRAD’s first opponent zoomed into the arena with a menacing whir of gyroscopic forces—a low-slung, six-clawed contraption mounted upon a rapidly oscillating turntable, one of the most agile and feared competitors. The mere sight of its sleek, powerful design was enough to set Kyle off.

When the announcer said “Go!”, BRAD remained motionless despite Kyle and April’s attempts at controlling the navigation and weapons.

“Move, you stupid bucket of bolts!” Kyle snarled through clenched teeth, frantically manipulating the unresponsive controls.

“Don’t listen to him, BRAD,” April shouted calmly and reassuringly. “I believe in you.”

For a long minute, the robot remained eerily frozen amid the frenzied chaos unfolding all around it. Its opponent attacked with its many sharp claws, looking to damage and flip BRAD on its back, where it would be defenseless.

Just when it appeared Middletown would be forced to forfeit in humiliation, BRAD sprang into terrifying life. The wicked saw blade lashed out with blinding speed, slicing the six-clawed ‘bot in half with a single, fluid movement. A hush of stunned confusion fell over the arena until a smattering of hesitant applause acknowledged the brutally decisive outcome.

Kyle and April looked at each other, shocked.

“Did you do that?” April asked, bewildered.

“I must’ve, right?” Kyle shrugged. “But it wasn’t what I was trying to do.”

Edgar said, “A win…”

“…is a win.” Edward finished his brother’s thought.

Mr. Greenwood gestured for the team to assemble for the second round. There would be no time to waste; BRAD’s next adversary was an imposing juggernaut with an array of slashing saw blades and a white-hot flamethrower.

It was April’s turn at the main controls, with Edgar navigating. The robot moved and danced at the opposite end of the arena, unguided. A knot formed in April’s stomach. The fear that the robot was acting as a rogue power scared her, and she briefly considered forfeiting. She knew she’d be alone in that consideration, so she kept it to herself.

Once the match started, she moved the control sticks with intent, but it was painfully evident her inputs were being overridden. BRAD appeared to utilize some kind of mysterious force, maneuvering around attacks with remarkable ease. The team turned to April thinking she was controlling the weapon remotely,  yet her fingers didn’t match the movements.

BRAD executed a bizarre yet brutally effective upward sweep, ramming its saw blade squarely into its foe’s body with enough momentum to hoist the dense machinery clean off the ground. BRAD toyed with the opponent, suspending it over its head for several seconds as it frantically tried to free itself before it crashed back to the ground in a shower of sparks. The opponent lay on its back like a turtle trapped on its back.

“How…” Mr. Greenwood questioned. “How did you…?”

Edward half-smiled. “Turns out saw blades can lift as well as cut, I guess.”

In response to commands from Edgar for the robot to turn right, it instead moved left. 

Before Mr. Greenwood could respond, the stadium announcement system pierced the air. “Victory for Middletown Middle School!”

The team couldn’t help but get excited. Kyle and April hugged enthusiastically, savoring the victory. It went unnoticed by all that at that same moment of their embrace, all the attached weapons on BRAD simultaneously spun and slammed.

“Teams, the final match will begin in ten minutes! Clear the arena floor for Middletown versus Topeka Central!”

Even as the match had ended, BRAD slammed the other machine against the wall, grease spraying over the arena walls. April motioned to turn off BRAD before they were disqualified from the competition, while Kyle suggested someone had snuck into the lab and rewired their robot.

Anticipation spread through the capacity crowd. The defending champions, the dreaded Topeka squad, were set to square off against the underdogs from Middletown. Topeka Central’s contestant, the Dominator, with its vicious saws, drills, and flames that could roast anything in its path, was the undefeated king, having won every match for five years running.

In contrast, BRAD’s compact size and inferior weaponry invited David versus Goliath comparisons.

As the opening horn blared, April and Kyle pretended to stay in control of the BRAD machine. In truth, they had already given in to the stark reality—BRAD could not be controlled.

Even so, at the start of the match, BRAD seemed uninterested, barely moving except for taking a defensive position and looking to run out the clock.

“Get him, you stupid robot,” Kyle growled, more for appearance’s sake than any kind of motivation but that set off Brad.

Angrily, BRAD snapped to life. The two robots clashed with all weapons moving at the same time. They locked into what looked like a metallic wrestling match but became a hellish fusion of powers.

Rather than fighting each other, the magnetic spikes on Topeka’s machine lifted BRAD off the ground and placed it carefully on top, creating a terrifying double-decker monster.

The Topeka team shouted to the Middletown kids to stop the match. Kyle and April threw down the controls and held back their opponents from going out into the arena to power off the robot.

The Dominator’s imposing bulk, with its layers of reinforced battle plating, became the nightmarish foundation for a grotesque machine, with BRAD’s armored torso affixed atop, serving as the brains and eyes of a tank.

The audience gasped in horror as flames shot beyond the four-foot limit, curling over the Plexiglass and causing panic. The announcer yelled out above the noise: “Teams! The match is over!” But before he could finish his sentence, a saw blade flew from the BRAD/Dominator combo and landed on the table in front of him, sending him running for cover.

The audience’s collective gasp quickly became shrieks of terror. Super BRAD, intent on living up to the Assault and Destruction of his name, sought out the other robots.

“That machine is possessed!” April shouted to Kyle, her voice cracked with hysteria. She looked around at the empty bleachers, then back at him—desperation clear on his face. She insisted, “You need to go in and turn it off.”

“Me,” Kyle scoffed with the screeching sounds of twisting metal and crackling flames nearing them. “That thing hates me. Why don’t you get the twins or Mr. Greenwood?”

Before April could respond, an earthshaking boom rumbled through the arena. Black smoke blossomed into the air. The screech of ripping metal sounded like a jet engine. Whipping around frantically, April saw their teammates and teacher had already abandoned them and fled to safety.

April’s face drained of color as the reality set in—they were on their own. “Okay, I’ll do it…” she said with a look of dread. “But you have to get out of here.”

Drawing a long breath, April forced herself to open the gate leading to the disaster zone. A blast of heat struck her face, her lungs filled with smoke, and she coughed. BRAD was on the opposite side, cutting through the cage with fire and saws to gather more robots.

BRAD heard the cough and quickly spun towards April. The machine towered before her like a giant. Flames poured on its damaged armor, momentarily exposing pistons and gears.

Embers swirled in the superheated air around April. Her eyes stung in the superheated air. She raised an arm to shield her face, her eyebrows already singed.

“Brad…” She fought to keep her voice calm, though she could barely conceal her fear. “The match is over, okay?”

One of BRAD’s scorpion-like limbs twitched and moved towards her head, but stopped. A shudder ran down her spine.

“You’re the boy I saw in the hall yesterday. Right? I’m shutting you down now,” April said, bracing herself. “Got it? We’re going to go back to school.”

“Just do it!” Kyle’s shout pierced the smoke.

BRADshifted slightly upon hearing Kyle and responded with a bone-rattling mechanical groan.

This was a mistake. For a moment, lost in thought, she could imagine those powerful limbs and weapons encircling her, crushing her like a soda can.

Snapping back to alertness, she cried out in desperation. “Kyle, get outta here.”

April saw Kyle retreating, but he had paused, unable to leave her.

Super BRAD remained motionless. April took advantage, moving to the back of the machine and looking for ways to turn off both robots. She was unable to reach BRAD’s master control switch, but saw the power supply cord. When she went to pull it, a violent, teeth-rattling shock knocked her to the ground. Stunned by the jolt of electricity, she watched as BRAD headed toward the robot storage.

In mere seconds, it had knocked down the wall and now had its pick of two dozen weaponized robots to use. They all came to life and moved toward BRAD.

“C’mon!” Kyle’s voice echoed. She turned to see him by the arena’s entrance. Kyle’s panicked voice cut through the chaos in the robot storage room. “You’ve gotta move, April! Hurry!” 

Not waiting for a response, he charged into the smoldering arena toward her. “On your feet, c’mon!” With the strength of desperation, he hauled April upright from where she remained crumpled on the ground.

April coughed, still dazed from the electricity moving through her. Her muscles tingled and she was dizzy. Together, they moved towards the exit, while jagged chunks of shrapnel and sparks zipped past them. April risked one last glance over her shoulder at the nightmarish robot in control of the arena’s machinery.

“Don’t look back! Just run!” Kyle shouted hoarsely.

Outside, a restless crowd had gathered in the street. They gave the Middletown crew nasty looks that said, “Thanks for ruining a good time.”

While it was quiet outside, they could all hear the increasingly violent noises inside of saws tearing into metal, wheels grinding, and chairs being tossed about.

That familiar sense of dread in April’s spine returned as the destruction grew louder until, suddenly, a tremendous crash like a gunshot exploded from the gym. Something slammed against the thick exit doors violently, a deep dent forming from the immense impact.

BRAD was trying to break free. Again and again, thunderous blows slammed against the buckling door. Folks started running away in all directions, jumping in their cars to get away but were trapped by a jam.

Kyle swallowed hard; his heart felt like it was going to burst. He feared BRAD wanted him dead. The hinges finally gave and the door crashed helplessly in a plume of dust and debris.

What emerged was a technological beast—a fusion of all the competition robots. BRAD had assimilated them all into its chassis. Escape routes vanished in an instant as the terrified crowd scattered.

BRAD rose fifteen feet high as it crawled the door. It swiveled its armored, sensor-studded head slowly, almost tauntingly, before fixing its gaze on the Middletown team huddled against the wall by the basketball court. Mr. Greenwood’s face drained of color. There would be no reasoning with this mechanized beast.

Sweeping one of its massive pincer arms in a wide arc, BRAD advanced slowly. The students scrambled behind the meager shelter of an overturned table, hurling anything within reach—rocks, basketballs. BRAD’s armored hide shrugged off the students’ feeble attack.

It threw fire into the air in what looked like a celebration. April desperately tried to get a spare remote working, but it was no use, and she just hurled it at the approaching robot.

“It wants to kill me,” Kyle said, and the robotics team could only watch in horror as their creation—the one Kyle had dubbed “dumb”—took on a new role as executioner. Its dozen limbs whirred with a deafening roar, blades pointed toward them like guided missiles locked on their targets.

With their backs tight against the wall, it seemed that the robotics team had no chance of salvation. Just when all hope was gone, a thunderous rumbling drowned out even BRAD’s mechanics. Tires squealed as the unmistakable form of Bus J hurtled toward the robot at breakneck speed.  

The bus slammed into BRAD, causing explosions of sparks and shrapnel to fill the air as the robot erupted. Saw blades and hundreds of other objects flew into the air. When the explosion of debris settled, only a pile of smoking parts remained.

The emergency door of the school bus swung open, and out stepped Middletown Middle’s bus driver, Portis. His face was as calm as ever. He said only, “Hope you don’t mind, I destroyed your contraption.”

The team ran to Portis and swarmed him with grateful hugs and pats on the back.

“That was…weird,” Edward murmured. Nobody could quite process the significance of what had just occurred.

“Let’s get out of here,” Mr. Greenwood urged, still concerned about an angry mob. “Help me get what’s left of BRAD onto the bus.”

Still dazed, the students collected the damaged pieces of their creations and carried their remains aboard the bus. Once all the pieces were stacked in the back, the vehicle’s doors shut, and Portis turned on the engine.

Kyle slumped in his seat, exhausted. “We won, right?” he questioned. “I mean…technically?”

“Well,” Mr. Greenwood grinned knowingly, “technically, BRAD won, but I doubt we’re getting a trophy.”

Exiting the parking lot, April looked at the other teams collecting their pieces of the robot, overwhelmed by shame and embarrassment. She couldn’t wait to go home. She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling they were not yet out of danger. Edward, seated across from her, gently kicked her to get her attention. He motioned for her to look at the back of the bus.

April turned, and there in the last row hunched a solitary, figure – Brad, the ghostly boy from the hallway looking perfectly normal. As the shattered robot parts bounced around them, his eyes met hers. He looked ashamed and remorseful but April wasn’t offering forgiveness or even a shoulder to cry on. An eternity seemed to pass between them as each waited for the other to say something to make the shame go away. Then, just as abruptly, he dropped his stare, shrinking away. 

April’s wanted to cry. She was unable to get the sound of the twisted metal and saw blades out of her head. Even the bus engine huddling down road reminded her of the danger she had only just escaped from.  She tore her eyes away from Brad and never looked at him again.