Bus safety video bids for Oscar nod with two-hour epic feature film


Oscar Superselby IV

This week, Managed Chaos unveiled a feature-length sequel to the notorious bus safety video in anticipation of this year’s award season. The epic production took six months and 140 million dollars to film and is projected to win Best Original Screenplay. “Trust us, it was worth every penny,” a Managed Chaos representative said. 

The Record has obtained a top-secret transcript of the film for its loyal reader:

At 3:15 p.m. on the dot, all windows shutter, projectors go dark, teachers fall silent. Students file out of their classroom in an orderly fashion, ready to embark on the most treacherous part of their day: boarding the bus.

On school walls, the Core Values plaque reflects the severity of this process. ‘Life of the Mind’ has become ‘Silence.’ ‘Mature Behavior’? ‘Move Quickly and Don’t Talk.’ ‘Secure and Healthful Environment’ is the same — in all caps.

Guards stationed along the treacherous 10 feet from Olshan Lobby to Tibbet avenue sport neon vests and carry clipboards where they will write the names of naughty students. Their fingers are stuck to their lips in a gesture that means one thing: be quiet, or else.

From above 246th street, a private dispatch of US Army officers surveil the elite cadre of students, on the alert for any signs of disturbance. Next to them, Apple’s newly released omniscient robots who boast superhuman strength, speed, and smarts, alongside laser eyes and jet propellers hover in the air.

At 3:24 p.m., seconds before the buses will depart, disaster strikes. An innocent sixth grader, still unaccustomed to the newly imposed bus rules, opens his mouth. He turns to a friend. He utters the words that spell his doom. “So uh, which bus goes to Park and 79th?”

Alarms blare. Lights flash. The robots plunge down, lift the screaming student up, and whisk him into the unknown. Students and teachers alike stare over in horror. The victim’s friend looks at the empty spot where he stood just seconds before, and recites the phrase that has been ingrained in her mind.

“Sorry, I can’t talk right now. I have to catch the bus.”

Roll credits.