Vice Principal Alden has been Vice Principal for a very long time. When former Principal Clifton retired 15 years ago, he thought he’d be a shoe-in for his replacement, an obvious choice. Instead, they brought in some schmuck from another county. That was okay, though. Alden comes from a long line of High School principals, his parents were both principals, and their parents as well. It was in his blood, so he felt confident that when the county schmuck got transferred ten years ago, that it would be his time to shine! Instead, they went with Carlton Roy, a younger, smarter, more talented version of what Alden was. To be fair, Vice Principal Alden has always struggled to keep up with the times. The computer age was a doozy! Hand-written records are more reliable, anyway, right? At least the Russians can’t hack into a filing cabinet. Rumor has it that Principal Roy was in the market for a new VP, someone who didn’t say “the Internets” and didn’t get confused about how some clouds could have files uploaded to them.

Vice Principal Alden adjusts his collar and clears his throat while eyeing you suspiciously. “Can you find me an ice pack? Or a nice cold steak?” he asks, pointing to a lump that’s formed in the center of his forehead.

”Oh, it’s you. Good. You can vouch for me, right? You know I wouldn’t do something like this. Remember when you choked on that pork chop sandwich in the cafeteria and I saved you with the Heimlich maneuver? That wasn’t you? Oh, well it’s been a very long day. I was the last to arrive, you see. I would have been here earlier, but I couldn’t find my keys. I walked up to the front door, but for some reason it was locked. I was going to knock, but then I heard what sounded like an argument, and didn’t want to interfere. I decided to go around back, but when I turned I smacked my head on one of the porch posts. I rounded the corner and heard screaming. I guess I must have startled the Art Teacher, Miss Lehman, because one of the screams I heard came from her. She was standing there with Mr. Hunefeld, the Math Teacher. I also thought I heard a scream come from inside the house, so I pushed past them to investigate. The counselor was standing near the Principal’s body with a horrified look on her face, and a bloodied trophy was lying at her feet. I ran to Principal Roy and rolled him onto his back to check for signs of life. He wasn’t breathing, and there was a large wound on the side of his head where someone had struck him with the trophy. The two teachers came inside, and then the coach showed up with dripping-wet hands. So you see, it couldn’t have been me! It had to have been someone who was in the house!“