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The speaker screeched to life, causing everyone at the study group table to cry out and groan.
“Something’s wrong with the sound system,” Abed remarked.
“On it.” Troy got to his feet but no further as Dean Pelton’s voice crackled across the airwaves.
“Students -“ It wasn’t until he blew his nose that they realized the strange quality in the dean’s voice wasn’t speaker noise but was, in fact, the effect of tears. “Students, I have a terrible announcement to make. Due to budget constraints and poor registration numbers, Greendale will be going on hiatus for the rest of the year. The economy permitting, classes will pick up right where they left off in the spring of 2012.”
“YES!” Jeff jumped to his feet and pumped his fist in the air, even as the rest of the study group cried out in horror.
“JEFF!” Annie scolded, struggling to be heard over the sound of the Dean’s histrionic wails, still being transmitted over the loudspeaker.
“What?” Jeff said. “It’s four months of vacation! I can finally take that cruise I’ve had my eye on. Maybe I’ll head to Spain, dazzle the ladies with my Spanish.”
“That you learned from our crazy Asian professor who never actually got a degree and now lives in the school’s ventilation system with Annie’s Boobs,” Britta said.
“…Point taken. But still, vacation! Who doesn’t love vacations? Except for Annie the Psycho Nerd.”
Annie did not seem flattered by this nickname. “Guys, this is horrible!” she whined.
“I don’t know,” Shirley said slowly. “It’d be nice, spending more time with my babies.”
“I could fly to Ubekibekibekistanstan and protest the ethnic slaughter!” Britta said.
“Okay, one, you couldn’t afford the plane ticket,” Jeff said. “And two, why don’t you go join OccupyWallStreet? That’s totally up your alley.”
Britta shrugged. “Been there, occupied that. I’m looking for something new and exotic.”
Jeff shook his head. “That is so many different levels of messed up, I don’t even know where to begin.”
“I could cover your airfare, Britta,” Pierce said. “I’ve always wanted to see Ubekibekibekistanstan. I’ve heard the women there are stunning. And lonely. And you know what they say about the white man’s burden.”
Jeff turned back to Britta. “I take it back. That is so many different levels of messed up.”
“We could start digging that tunnel into Wonderland!” Troy said, turning to Abed.
“I don’t know if you can dig a tunnel to Wonderland,” Abed said thoughtfully. “I’m not sure it counts unless it’s dug by a rabbit. Besides, I don’t like talking caterpillars.”
Troy considered this. “How about rebuilding Voltron out of cardboard and duct tape?” he suggested.
“Only if we build the original Japanese Go-Lion,” Abed said.
“Deal!” They sealed it with their special handshake.
All the chatter stopped when Annie let out a primal scream. She stopped when she was finally satisfied she had everyone’s attention. “Guys!” she said. “This means we won’t see each other until the spring of NEXT YEAR!”
“We live together,” Abed pointed out.
“Besides, Annie, we’re adults,” Jeff said. “We are fully capable of spending time together outside of school.”
“You always say that, but we never do!” Annie whined.
“We do,” Troy and Abed said in unison.
She groaned and tried another tactic. “Besides, didn’t you hear what the Dean said? Right where we left off. You know what that means, right?” Dead silence. “It means midterms. Right after four months of no classes. That’s half our grade.”
A horrified silence followed this stunning revelation.
Jeff slammed his hand down on the table. “Guys, we have to do something,” he said. “We can’t let Greendale suffer like this. Greendale is more than just a community college - it’s our community. And we must protect it! Who’s with me?”
“Huzzah!” cried Troy and Abed.
“Huzzah!” cried Annie, Britta, and Shirley.
“How much is a one-way trip to Ubekibekibekistanstan?” Pierce asked into his cellphone. When he noticed everyone else’s glares, he hung up. “Huzzah!” he added belatedly.
Their first plan was to start a petition. “People love petitions,” Britta said. “It’s the Laz-E-Boy of activism. They can just sign their name and then forget about it completely. No effort required! They don’t even have to read it!”
Annie drafted an impressive thirty page manifesto that Jeff then cut down to a half-page declaration.
“Nobody’s going to read that,” he told Annie.
“They don’t have to!” Annie said. “They just need to sign!”
“Look, Annie, nobody’s going to want to sign something that looks like the iTunes licensing agreement,” he said. “It reminds them of lawyers, forgotten passwords, the DRM, and other shit people hate. This-“ holding up his version of the petition “- looks like a stoner’s petition to legalize marijuana. People love that.”
So they took Jeff’s version of the petition to the streets…and were completely ignored.
“Maybe if we made up a song,” Abed said. “♪Would you lend a caring hand-♪” He stopped when Leonard threw a banana peel at him.
“Sorry,” Fat Neil told them. “My LARP group has arranged for us to go on an extended campaign on the other side of the country.”
“Sure, of course!” Rich said, but his signature was interrupted by a mob of adoring fans. Jeff grabbed the clipboard and stormed off in irritation.
“Pop pop!” They assumed this was Magnitude’s way of saying no, as he quickly walked away.
“Sure!” Star-burns said, and scrawled his name down.
Jeff took a look at it. “No, dude, your real name.”
“…Alex is my real name.”
“Yeah, well, nobody knows that.”
Star-burns grabbed the petition back and ripped it to shreds before stomping off.
“Maybe we could organize a sit-in?” Annie suggested.
“How would that be different from any other day?” Jeff asked.
“Oh! Oh! I could bring popcorn!” Troy said.
“And pancakes!” Abed added.
“…I repeat, how would that be different from any other day?”
“If the problem is poor registration, maybe we should just get our friends to register,” Shirley said.
“Yeah, about that,” Pierce said. “I don’t have any friends. Other than you guys, of course.”
“Let’s be fair, you barely have us,” Jeff said.
“I don’t really have any friends other than you guys either,” Annie admitted.
“Me neither,” Britta said.
“Us fourth,” Troy and Abed said. After a moment of thought, Abed asked: “And fifth?” But Troy shook his head. “Us forth.”
The group turned to look at Jeff. “No way,” he said. “I am not bringing my friends to this dump.”
“He doesn’t have any either,” Britta translated, and Annie nodded in agreement.
“Okay, fine! I don’t have any friends other than you lunatics either.” Jeff snapped. “Are you happy?”
Shirley looked around. “Am I seriously the only one with friends here?”
“Looks like,” Jeff said.
“It’s up to you, Shirley!” Britta said.
“Honey, I don’t have that many friends,” Shirley said.
“Do prostitutes count?” Pierce asked.
Jeff slammed his hands on the table. “I’ve had enough of this. It’s time to take this to the top.”
They charged downstairs to Dean Pelton’s office.
“Dean!” Jeff shouted. “You cannot hiatus this school! Sure, registration may be low, and attendance spotty. Okay, so maybe it’s not making a profit. But that isn’t the point! Greendale isn’t meant to be the Golden Cow. It’s meant to be a community. A place where everyone, no matter how weird they are or how crazy they are or what kind of drugs they do, can connect with other human beings. How often do we genuinely connect with people in this day and age? Real people, with quirks and flaws and opinions so offensive as to be practically obscene-“
“That’s me,” Pierce chimed in helpfully.
“How often does that happen?” Jeff asked. “Not often enough. If you take that away, we will have lost something irreplaceable.”
Dean Pelton blew his nose loudly. “You’re preaching to the choir, Jeffrey!” he sobbed. “But there’s nothing I can do!” With that, he slammed his head onto his desk and wept piteously.
“That’s the problem,” Abed mused. “The people we think are in control aren’t. Everything these days is run by monolith corporations who don’t care about the human factor. They care about profit, not culture. They can’t be held accountable because nobody knows who they are.”
The group shivered.
“So what do we do?” Britta asked.
Abed shrugged. “No clue. This is usually the point where people stage bloody revolutions but, to be honest, that’s not really my thing.” He turned to Troy. “Why don’t we turn the school into a Blanket Empire?”
“Haven’t we done that already?” Troy asked.
“City, not Empire,” Abed pointed out.
“Right. Okay!”
“I’ll help!” Annie said.
“Hey.” Jeff could practically see the lightbulb flicker on above Britta’s head. “Why don’t we call it OccupyGreendale? It’ll be a revolution, but fun because it has blankets!”
“I like it!” Annie said.
Abed tilted his head consideringly. “It has possibility,” he said.
“But it’s a Britta idea,” Troy said. “Britta ruins everything.”
“Gee, thanks a lot.”
“We have Annie on our side, though,” Abed pointed out. “She can act as a counterbalancing force.”
Jeff sighed heavily. “I think it sounds like a good idea,” he said reluctantly.
“If Jeff supports it, then it’s official,” Abed said.
“LET’S OCCUPY GREENDALE!” Troy shouted.
The dean immediately stopped crying and brightened. “Slumber party, yay! Let me go get my Jeffrey pajamas.”
“I do not want to know what those look like,” Jeff grumbled.
It wasn’t long before the camera crews arrived to film this strange blanket empire that had been built in Greendale. Troy and Abed stood outside, wearing togas fashioned out of bed sheets. When the camera turned on them, they sang:
“Troy and Abed’s Revoluuuuution!”