A long, long time ago, before the Bell Tower rose and the waters flowed from Pomps, there was an institution known around the globe as a shining beacon of academia: The Phillips Academy. The Academy was ruled over by two lords: Samuel Phillips and his uncle, John Phillips. Samuel, the original founder of The Phillips Academy, was beloved by the student body and renowned as a wise, benevolent, leader. Samuel would frequently wander the paths, stopping to converse with his students and share ideas. But all was not well. John had grown jealous of Samuel’s popularity and, being the petty, weak-willed, greasy, nasty man he was, wanted to take the entire academy for himself. So, he began plotting to turn the students and faculty against Samuel.
John first approached the Dean of Students.
“Good Dean, have you heard of Samuel’s new proposal?” The fiend asked. The Dean, who did not know of the proposal as there was no new proposal, responded that he had not.
“Why, I hear Samuel plans to redirect the faculty’s salaries to himself,” John lied. “Perhaps not as benevolent as seems, eh?”
“What is it you speak of? My paycheck hath arrived yesterday,” the Dean responded. John, in his foolishness, had not realized that payday was the day prior.
He next plotted to turn the teachers against Samuel. He stopped a group of them on the paths.
“Run, run! What? Have you not heard? Samuel… he has come down with syphilis! Syphilis Samuel! Syphilis Samuel!” The teacher stared deeply into his cruel eyes, vastly confused.
“John… was it not you who had protrusions on thy penis? Why, we should call you Bumpy Johnson John!” John, in his foolishness, had forgotten that he was a well-known diddler.
Humiliated, John fled to the woods of New Hampshire. He took refuge in an old, abandoned prison and believed himself to be all alone. That was until a knock came at the gate. Rushing out, John saw his disciples, the Phillips Academy society of the fanatics of the East India Company, had followed him!
“Sir! We couldn’t bear to see you leave!” The students cried. “Who else will teach us the ways of discrimination as you do?” The sentiment brought a tear to John’s eye.
“My followers. On this land, we shall found a NEW school. One that shall stand in infamy as the institution that produces the most proud, discriminatory, and spiteful lads in all the land! Now, we just need a name.” One of the followers raised his pale, skinny arm.
“Mr. Phillips, I must use the lavatory. Where’s the exit, sir?”
“… Say that again.”
