Saturday Morning: 7:00 AM
Project Director Megan Martin got out of the shower. “I thought that meeting would never end. The Board of Directors at this college give new meaning to the phrase ‘balloon juice’. Great! Now they have me talking to myself.” Taking the short walk to the kitchen, Ms Martin makes her version of breakfast: bagel, orange marmalade and black coffee.
The only excuse for being awake this early on a weekend was her appointment with PE teacher and volleyball coach Eddie Wilson, delayed because both had been at the giant time waster chat fest. Megan hoped Eddie was just as annoyed at the ungodly hour. Misery loves company. She was going to be disappointed.
Eddie, by the time she perked her coffee, had already run five miles and was sucking down eggs, bacon, biscuits and OJ. He had to stay fit to set a good example for his students. Then there was the Project…
A little catch up: Megan and Eddie crossed paths Wednesday afternoon. The very first topic of conversation was the video they had made of the Project session. While a true record of the progress, it fell heavily into the “too much information” category. Both decided that possible misuse was clearly possible. If either ever wanted to apply for another teaching position, 50 million hits on Youtube might not make a good resume entry. It would have to be a very special school indeed.
Over lunch, Megan and Eddie planned their own caper. Wait until after dark Friday night, retrieve the tape, redact the super hot parts, clean up the edits, copy and then turn the recording over to the Dean. Te timing went down the toilet with the announcement of the faculty meeting.
It became really clear that the tape needed to go away when the Dean, at the meeting, pontificated at length about the Project and the coming progress report. He and some of the staff seemed more than academically interested. Nothing they could put a finger on, but still, just a little odd that he would ask for a key to the gym to make sure the set-up would meet University standards. Eddie told him that all the keys were checked out to team captains and managers but he might get copies made next week.
Dodged that bullet. They sort of trusted the Dean, but copies are a snap to make. The university archive was open to all. Integrity of research and the free exchange of information are all good, usually.
Megan and Eddie revised their plan. Now it would be early Saturday morning, almost as safe as Friday night. Best they could do.
Mr. Wilson and Ms Martin met after breakfast on the main quad. It was a short walk to the gym. Both wore clothes to blend in with the student body. Megan’s tee-shirt was barely there: sheer, sleeveless and just past her belly button. As a concession to the weekend, she wore thong panties, also sheer. Eddie wore silk boxers and a muscle shirt. If they appeared normal, no one would stop them. Recent graduates, their youthful looks might tempt an over-eager inspector to notice and ask questions. Eddie and Megan could prove their faculty status and move on but they wanted to be as anonymous as possible.
They were successful except for the guys yearning for Megan’s fine ass and the girls checking out Eddie. They blended right in.
So they made it to the gym. Mr. Wilson used the key he carried on a lanyard, letting them in. Megan got the camera and both entered his office. Play back time. Or so they thought. Nothing happened when Megan touched “rewind”. It was already rewound. Curious.
She pushed “play”. They could hear the tape engage but the screen showed nothing but blue. The tape was blank. Two mysteries! And a giant problem looming, the Dean.
Eddie suggested that they had failed to stop tape at the end of the last class. They were pretty distracted, very tired and ravenously hungry after all. The camera had an auto rewind function. It must have activated when the tape spooled out. Idle cameras shut down if not used for a while.
But why was it blank? Megan popped it open, removed the cassette and examined the mechanism. She could see that the head was crooked. That solved the blank tape mystery. The upside to the situation was that the tape was no longer an issue. They felt the weight on their shoulders ease immediately.
What to tell the Dean? That giant problem required careful consideration. He was not going to be a happy administrator. Not at all! They could hear him now, lecturing about scientific method, Peer Review, the loss to the accumulated body of knowledge of humankind, The University losing prestige, etc.
Two hours later, the only really viable option was hammered out: let the Dean discover the blank tape on his own. All they had to do was wind an hour and a half forward on the tape. Put everything back in place. Wait until dark to leave the gym, as in escape unnoticed. Eddie would go to the hardware store Sunday to make the key for the Dean. Give it to him early enough to go to the volleyball gym to “check the set-up”.
To a create viable account of the previous class, Ms Martin and Mr. Wilson donned their respective professional personae to re-enact the class. Luckily, Megan and Eddie have well-developed memories and had nothing to do for the rest of the day.
Purely in the spirit of accuracy, they attempted to duplicate the parts the ten girls and two instructors played last Monday. Basically, Megan and Eddie fucked their brains out, took notes, fucked some more, and took more notes. Taking a break to reassemble their brains, the project account was hammered out. Then Eddie hammered Megan through a rewrite. This was no “Cliff’s Notes” shortcut. This was the unabridged story. In clean, clinical, acceptable language, of course.
Then they fucked in celebration of their success. By this time, it was dark and time to drift home. Fortunately, their clothes were still intact and clean.
Eddie made the key on Sunday at the hardware store. He and Megan met at the Dean’s quarters to give up the key. The Dean was delighted at their eagerness to get his approval. As soon as they left, he zipped over to the gym, to find the tape blank. Grabbing the camera he returned home and soon had two messengers deliver requests to meet him in his office.
Pretending innocence, the Dean asked them to play the tape and give a quick narration. Eddie pushed the play button and did a masterful job of looking surprised and shocked. Megan was “outraged”. Who messed with our project she demanded to know. Eddie kept his mouth shut.
Any other time he would have disciplined Ms Martin for her outburst. Knowing that he himself was flirting with accusations of academic interference, he let it pass, grateful that they did not question his possession of the tape before it was officially released by the project. Instead, he asked if they knew why it was blank.
Megan, citing her documentary film credits, took the camera, “discovered” the wonky record head and showed it to the Dean. The Dean was ready to ream the Audio Visual Arts Department new collective assholes when Mr. Wilson reminded him of the recent budget cuts. Rather than limit the faculty, the University had chosen to eliminate auxiliary staff positions. In A/V Arts, that translated to maintenance and parts.
The Dean’s irritation turned to acceptance that he had played a large part in his disappointment. Hoist on his own petard. He had, however, avoided being criticized over his interference. Not a totally horrible outcome. He did insist, in the strongest terms, that Ms Martin and Mr. Wilson get the camera repaired ASAP, bill the cost to petty cash through the Dean’s Office, and to stock up on new tapes.
Eddie and Megan left the meeting as quickly as they could manage. Once out of sight, they collapsed in relief. The plan worked like a charm. Eddie knew that the camera would not be ready until Wednesday. In other words, it would not be available for Monday’s session. Megan could have fixed it in seconds, but kept her own council.
Reminded that Monday was upon them, they went back to the gym to prep for the new tug ‘o war line up. Eddie had determined that Mika and Nikki were to be eliminated from the five first round second chance group, bringing the competitor count to eight. Mika and Nikki were to be observers, fluffers, and generally assist where needed.