Final Creases

Click here to return to “Batfold: The Three OriJokers War”


Press Conference

“Ladies and Gentlemen, if you could all please, please, settle down.” He said over the roars and hollers of the press, parents, old faculty.  No one would listen to Doctor Tenebris. The man, his hair in a man-bun, glared at the people. He stood at the podium, grasping the sides of it with a slight frustration. “Everyone.” He grumbled, “If we could all just settle down, I can begin the press conference I have called for you all today.”

“Why is there a fence in front of Kane?! What are you doing to it?”

“If you all will just…” He rubbed his temples, and breathed a deep breath. “If we could just settle down, I can explain everything.”

But it didn’t stop. The exclamations and murmurs continued. His partner in the business, who, for many years, always spoke the words he didn’t want to, stepped up on the podium. With a calm palm placed upon his back, Stephanie Wulf moved Doctor Tenebris to the side. 

“SHUT. UP.” She yelled. That silenced the entire crowd. Tenebris had stepped back up to the podium, straightening his tie.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we stand today in front of Kane High School. Opening in 1939, Kane was the first public high school of the city. It was, to many, a historical landmark of Jutefruce. Politicians, future professors, artists — they had all traveled those halls. A few years later, just upon that hill,” He motioned towards the hill that Donner sat on, “Was Donner High, a private school. Kane’s sister school, it had quickly become a space for the elite; the smartest of the smart. That’s not to say that Kane students were uneducated; they weren’t. But for a time, it was the school with the lowest rankings for test scores, GPAs, and other high-value educational statistics.”

He motioned in the direction of Lampert, “Over yonder, Lampert High School was constructed. Sports students go there to become the next NFL superstar. But, over the past few years, it has become another public school, though it has had a heavy student-sports focus. This has left Kane, sitting at the bottom of the hill, at a weird place since, well, the eighties. Disrepair, the infamous Kane roaches, and various initiatives had come and gone from Kane. Novick Detention, if you recall, was a space for the worst-of-the-worst students. It should’ve never happened. It should’ve never grown to what it became.” He sighed, straightened that tie again, and continued. “It was with these things,” He held up a puppet, large enough to fit his entire hand, gray headed and blue-shirted, “Origami Puppets… that lead to such a rise in that behavior. They’ve led to expulsions, faculty and staff being fired, and even an entire school lockdown back in October… the last straw after many, many, many had been placed upon the old school’s back.” 

He looks back at the school, seemingly for one last time, “It’s what led to its shutdown in October. After many months of discussion with the city and local government, I, Doctor Malcolm Tenebris, Superintendent of Jutefruce City of Fox County, have sadly decided to close its doors for good.”

The audience was stunned. One little kid, bright eyed and tiny, wandered to the front. A microphone was handed to him. “But… will it ever come back?”


The child frowned, but Tenebris continued, “In fact… destruction starts. Today.” The audience’s eyes widened as a bulldozer came forth, going through Kane High School. Another one followed. The destruction was fast and glorious.

The fearless monster, the one who coordinated this, nodded to the crowd of people. He walked off the stage. They were all left to watch the destruction of such history before their eyes.

A Conversation

“So, what is that?” She asked, pointing at the camera.

“It’s a camera, Stephanie.” He said, his voice cold; a twinge of annoyance crossing it.

“I know that, I’m just wondering why it’s on.”

He leaned forward, and she looked a little bit uncomfortable. More than before, he seemed even more annoyed “Listen, Stephanie. It’s a camera. After that whole… business, with the guy in the fake mustache, I realized that it’s… actually quite enjoyable to go back and watch these again. See the new details, find where I could’ve done better… For example…” He turned the TV on, and Stephanie turned around awkwardly in her seat. “There’s Mitch.”

“Desaadigami’s name is Mitch?” Stephanie asked.

“Yeah, I hate it too, but he wants my job in the future. I like him lingering around, though.”


Tenebris shushed her, and leaned forward in his desk, “Watch.”

“Hey, Doctor Tenebris, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment?” Tenebris, in the video, puts his legs up on the desk, and fires finger guns at Mitch, “Sure, Desaadigami. What is it?”

Mitch sat down, looking across from him. “I was thinking that it’s… really weird to call you Master sometimes. I’m paid a good wage. But you always treated me like, you know, this puppet.” He held up the puppet of Desaad, looking more like some Palpatine creature.

“So what are you saying?”

“I was wondering if everyone in the office could, like, y’know… call me Mitch? People at Donner have been—”

“Ever since we closed Kane, huh?”

“Well, I don’t think they know I intern with you, sir. I’ve been called ‘Mitch’ or ‘Mitchell’ my whole life.” 

“Good for you.”

“So, is it going to change? I’ve been interning with you for well over a year.I eat dinner with you guys every week at Olive Garden. When is it gonna change?”

“I don’t know, Desaadigami. I’ll talk with the crew and see what they think. Why don’t you get me some coffee while I think?”

“… Yes, sir.” Dejected, Mitch left the office. In the clip, Tenebris starts cracking up. As he turns off the TV, real Tenebris is also laughing.

“Isn’t that funny? I dropped the whole Master shtick with him, but he still calls me sir!”

“Why didn’t you bring this up at the ‘No Desaadigami’ meeting?” 

“Because why should I?” The question sounded rhetorical, and Stephanie didn’t know how to put it exactly that this was wrong. She just shook her head. “Anyways. How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay.” She said, “My kid is starting high school next year and keeps begging me to let her shadow Lampert. I keep saying ‘Jenna, you’re going to Donner, and that’s final.’ But she said that the field hockey team is better at Lampert… all this other crap. Something about how she could be Caitlin Snow. I don’t even know who that is.”

“Huh.” Tenebris said, “That’s weird.”
“I know, right? With these puppets, is there some sort of lineage thing?” She waved around her Steppenwolf puppet. “Cause she could be Steppenwolf when she starts, I think.”

“This whole thing is just a fad.” He said, waving it off, “Listen, while the response has been negative over the Kane closure, it’s been a net positive to the city. They just haven’t seen it yet. The superintendents of the state, though, see it. They respect my ability. Speaking of… I got a convention to go to later this month. It’s why I was wondering if you’d be willing to join me.”

Stephanie is still, and then she shakes her head, “No. I’m sorry. I just have to be here for Jenna.” 

Tenebris sighs, “I understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Seriously, I am sorry about it. I’d definitely go.”

“It’s just I was speaking at it about the benefits of—”

“No, I get it, I’m just saying that it’s pretty hard to make time. It would be multiple days, and it’s like… an educator’s convention. I’m not even an educator. I’m a business-woman. You hired me to help make proper business decisions of this county’s education system. I’ve sat in on ideas. We’ve had many of these discussions before. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, seriously, Stephanie. It’s okay.”

They sigh, and awkwardly stare at one another, “The kids hate you.”

“Yours?” Tenebris asked, suddenly concerned.

“No; well, I don’t know. I just know that the high school students really, really dislike you. That’s what the principal of Lampert said.”

“Really?” Tenebris asked, his eyebrows raising. “I’ve never met him.”

“I did last week. He said that the kids are really mad, especially the former Kane students. The place is filled to the brim with students. It’s not good. What are you going to do if they want that school back?”

“Not budge. I know it was a smart idea. We’ll use that land as a place for future students to congregate and hang out. It’ll make them happy. They’ll see it as a net-positive too eventually, and if they don’t… they’ll graduate soon enough. I’m happy with it. Attendance will decrease, and we’ll eventually mellow out.”

“Malcolm, I have to say: your confidence is admirable, but… sir, you must think outside the box.”
“I agree with you, but they can’t do much. They’re just kids. Why don’t you call the principals of Donner and Lampert for a meeting later this week?”

“… What are you going to do?”

He sighed, “I’ll get back to you on that, alright?” She nodded and stood up, leaving Tenebris’ office. Tenebris then buried his face in his hands, groaning a strained, stressed groan. He needed his Yoga.

Yoga TikToks

Malcolm Tenebris was not always like this.

Once a young boy, Malcolm was surrounded by his family, growing up broke in Los Angeles County, California. The youngest of four siblings, Malcolm had to fight, tooth and nail, to get a scrap from the table.

That is the story he has always told.

It is actually unknown where Tenebris came from. His last name does not turn any records nationwide. The man is merely a mystery; an anomaly. There’s people that look like him when he was younger, but the additional muscle mass, his head shape being so chiseled, it is unknown which boy from which school in the Jutefruce area was him. That name change might’ve been in the early 1990s; perhaps the story of his childhood is largely true, but who his siblings were, if they’re even still around, it’s not known.

  Today, however, it’s TikTok making day. He does this every Monday.

“Desaadigami, hold that camera sturdy.” He said as he did his early stretches, “Last week, the camera was so shaky that the fans could not understand what was going on. I’m having to remake it today.”

“I’m trying to, sir.” Mitch said, “It’s just… hard.”


“I’ve been nervous as of late, that’s all.”

Tenebris looked at Mitch while tensing his arms, “What for? You have no need to be nervous, boy. Have your grades faltered?”


“Are you experiencing relationship troubles?”

“I don’t have any friends besides you guys.”’


“You’re preaching to the choir, sir.” Tenebris was now praising the sun, his chin pointed towards the sky, his back arched. The body-builder mass, stuck in sweatpants and a sleeveless t-shirt.

“Well, if it’s nervousness over the schools, there’s no need. If you’re worried about grades, I can already get you into some of the best colleges in the nation. If it’s a partner?” He paused, looking at Mitch, “I don’t know what I can do for a guy who’s name is Mitch.” Tenebris laughed at his own joke, and Mitch looked down at the ground. “I’m joking with you. Can’t a workspace have jokes?”

“I mean, it can, but that just kind of hurts, sir. I can’t control the name I have.”

“Oh, come on. It was a joke. You can joke about my name at any time.”

“I didn’t know I could…”

“It’s best if you don’t try it.” Mitch was… for the first time in a while, feeling angry. He was starting to really, really, resent Tenebris’ practice, how the whole thing was run. He couldn’t do a much better job, but he thinks he could, well, do something. The whole Anti-Student-Life equation was solved; the amount of bullying, troubled youth, and violence had gone drastically down city-wide since the expulsion rules were put in place. Kids can’t do much; and that’s okay. The Cabal believed that school came first before… puppetry and roleplaying. But Mitch couldn’t get it out of his head that maybe… maybe they were the baddies.

“What?” Tenebris asked, “You’re thinking right now. What is it, Desaadigami?”

“I think this is %$&*ing stupid, sir, and you should just get a tripod.”

Malcolm Tenebris, like it was said earlier, was not always like this.

The fool was violent. He was prone to anger, he found joy in seeing others hurt. Like that fake mustache-wearing fool from months ago, he loved to see people fail. He loved the joy in their wishes squandered. Had it not been for the Yoga he does every morning; the weight-training in the afternoon, the man would’ve snapped by now.

He stared at Mitch, rage filling in his eyes. If he could shoot precise laser-beams into people, he would strike Mitch down in an instant. But Mitch handed him the phone, “I’ll send you some of the ones I think are pretty good.” He said, “I’m taking a mental health day, please don’t reach out until Monday.”

Tenebris stared at the insolent boy. He held that phone in his hands, and, when Mitch took one last look, Tenebris crushed it in his palm, dropping the smart-phone (now looking more like a flip-phone) to the floor.

Audio Diary

It has been half a year to the day since Kane High School permanently shut its doors in October. I, personally, have been enjoying the wave of rage being felt city-wide. The anger directed towards me has distracted everybody else to what had mattered before; the bullying, that ever-present rage building up inside, leading to that bubble with those OriJoker mad-boys. They’ve all been sent away, to a facility over in Illinois. There is no way that they’ll bother us ever again.

I’ve been happy.

I got to see my kid for the first time in a while. She’s doing okay. Her whole “Holy Grail” thing with that Theresa Carter girl from years ago made me almost expose my plans earlier than I believed, but I sent her off to live with her mother. TikTok is booming; I’ve garnered a hundred and sixty eight followers in the last week. They appreciate a handsome, older gentleman like myself performing Yoga to the masses.

Anyways… I received a couple letters in the mail from an “Origami Riddler”, which is hilarious to me. When I saw Batman Forever in the theaters, I learned immediately that the Riddler is just a joke. If I, “Superintendent Darkseid”, am representative of a cosmic character, what makes some random Riddler kid think that he could stop me?

My employees are tense. I wish they’d come with me to the convention, but not even Christy Cooke would come. That old woman—

Agh, I don’t want to talk about it. Tomorrow, I’ll be easing tensions for her and Stephanie. I got Caleb Ackerman on our side, so the police force of Jutefruce will definitely follow, just like they did during the Kane event; they left the place to its own devices, sitting outside with the planes and cars, but they never step foot in there until it was stopped, and I could step in to save the day. Every part of this town is wrapped around my finger; at this point, maybe I should run for Mayor!

A man can dream. Which I will. Audio Journal, you’re the only friend I can talk to, now. Thank you for always being there to let me plan out my life… But I’m the only one who’s made me successful. Goodnight.

At the Ruins

Everybody is there. The two principals of Donner and Lampert, Stephanie Wulf, Christy Cooke, Malcolm Tenebris. Mitch couldn’t come; he’s in class right now. In the Spring heat of April, they’re all there in their fancy clothes, their ties all done up… The ruins of what was Kane high school sit behind them.

“Why here?” The Donner Principal asks, “It’s a construction zone, it’s not safe. I mean, what if a stone falls on us?”

“We’re outside of the radius, it’s safe. I come here often, to think.” Tenebris said, “Everyday, actually.”

“Are you thinking about reopening it?” Lampert’s principal shakily mentioned, “I mean, it would be logical. We’re so full, understaffed, and there were great teachers at Kane who I know have nothing right now. You know Olivia Oldman is working at the Hallmark store in Morrison Pavilion? A woman with her level of education and skill… and she’s there. It’s sad, really.”

“No, I’m not thinking of reopening it, Ezekiel.” Ezekiel “Zeke” Wells, the “new” principal of Lampert, looked at the rubble, sighing. “I come here to think about my age.”

“But you’re young; I mean, you got a college-aged daughter, but you’re still pretty early in life, Doctor Tenebris, sir.” Ezekiel said. The Principal of Donner, Lindsey Romita, elbowed him. 

“Don’t kiss up to him, it’s not going to do any good.” She whispered. Tenebris, now, looked at the rubble. 

“I have lived a life, you two. Full of wonder, mystery… I had trained with the Marines, I had been on two tours, I’ve fought in combat. I’ve dealt with seeing my whole family pass away. All of these years. All of this life. It’s all been leading up to this moment. If I didn’t have my partners, such as Stephanie and Christy, I would not be a man who could do what I have done.” He was lying. Somewhere in there, he was lying, but he spoke it with so much earnest truth that they all stared with fear. “I settled. I settled for a job like this. It has power, but it’s power over children. Children that are angry, children that don’t understand my mission here, and to me… It’s clear you two don’t understand it either.”

“Sir, we do.” Ezekiel begged, “Believe me, we understand it, and we agree more than anybody.”

“That isn’t what Stephanie told me. When I had hired you, I did it with the belief that you would be able to follow. To listen. To be a ‘servant leader’, whatever that meant to you. But you didn’t. You betrayed me, listened to those kids, was a servant to those younger than you. You’re a fool, Ezekiel. A wolf in sheep’s clothing who does not deserve this position.”

“It pays nothing.” Zeke said, “The amount of work I have done in the last few months has been so much for so little. I was hired on the same day that Kane closed. Was that a coincidence?”

“No.” Tenebris mentioned.

“So what? What are we doing here?” Lindsey asked. 

“I am here to tell you that the Equation and Algorithm we’ve developed does not only apply to insolent students.” Tenebris said, “It’s for insolent faculty as well. You two are fired. You clearly do not believe in anything that I have said, you’re traitors to the cause, and your insolence is not appreciated anywhere near the school district of Jutefruce. When I hired both of you, I made you two promise that if any kid tried to get in our way, they would be stopped, defeated, destroyed. You two said you understood me. You two lied.

“I had nothing to do with this, sir.” Lindsey started, “I have followed your needs for years. There has not been a single student with a puppet that mattered since SuPaperMan. There’s been NOTHING at Donner to worry about. Why—”

“You two will leave. Immediately. You’re both off the payroll, and your severance packages have been sent already. You will leave this city, and you’ll never return. Stephanie and Christy will step into your shoes, because they believe me.”

They stared at Tenebris, shocked as well as the former-principals were. Tenebris stared at the rubble, “If you don’t mind,” he said, “I like to watch the birds sit upon the stones I destroyed. Alone.” Zeke grimaced at Tenebris, clutching his fist, “If you try anything, Ezekiel, I promise you it will not end well.” Zeke sighed, and walked back to his car. Everyone else followed suit, leaving Tenebris — and his vehicle — alone at the Kane ruins.

He watched as the birds landed upon the bricks, pecking at stones and feasting upon the Kane Roaches. It was beautiful.




A Meeting at the Swift Residence

By Neil “Flex Luthor” Swift

I started, “Gentlemen, I have gathered you all here today—”

“Oh for pete’s sake, Neil, shut up!” Tim Gavings, the Larfoldz, exclaimed, “You invited us here because there was a prospect for monetary gain, and I don’t see any money or Chuck-E-Cheese tickets here.”

“You hoard that rat’s tickets too? For Larfoldz, you’re pretty freaking good.” Steve Marston, Origami Maxwell Lord, mentioned, “I mean, look at this guy, guys. Larfoldz! Hah. I love it.” His businessman demeanor was turning me and Conrad Mordecai feral.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” Conrad said, “Holy crap, if I have to deal with this clown in a suit again, I’m going to explode.”

“I thought you weren’t a villain anymore, Mordecai.” Theo Franklin, the little cousin to JC Russel (also the Origami Black Manta), said.

“Last I checked, you were just a whiny, annoying brat.” Conrad jeered, “I’m an ‘anti-hero’, look it up in some Liefeld dictionary.”

“I’m the Star Quarterback, but I’m also a genius.” Simon Quigley, the Star Quarterback, genius, and “Gorilla Grodd” said. “I’ve barely heard of a ‘Anti-hero’, but you’re quite literally one of the first villains in this city that I’d think of.” Immediately, I got annoyed with Quigley. I felt as though I was the most influential villain in this entire group.

“Okay, well, I’m not that guy anymore.” Conrad said, sounding annoyed.

“GENTLEMEN!” I said again, making everyone shut up, “We are seniors, we are bound to graduate, but you all must listen to me! I know we were all bad kids, we are the problem children. When you hear the name ‘Neil Swift’, you’d think of a megalomaniac who gave a poor student an allergic reaction and also ruined the Justice Pleats, but I am more than that! I’m nearly an adult, as we all are. So please, hear me. Listen to my offer. One that, like an adult’s choices, will not affect us as much as it will our underclassmen and our children — maybe even our children’s children!”

They all stared at me, and so I decided to continue my speech around my air hockey table, “Those Justice Pleats clowns haven’t done squat to bring back Kane high school, but you know who could? Us! We could bring back Kane! We could waltz up to Doctor Tenebris, use our charisma, because, let’s be honest: that’s our number one best quality, and easily convince him. It’s time to do some good around here, fellas! Go down in history as the team that brought back Kane, stopping this terrible Superintendent in his tracks!”

Expecting applause, I waited, and waited… “But why do you want this?” Conrad asked.

I sighed, “He banned C.A.D.M.U.S., and I want it back.” I admitted.

“Well, you could’ve just said that, and we would’ve all been down for it. C.A.D.M.U.S. should be something at all schools.” Steve said, “There’s an opportunity with C.A.D.M.U.S. that could make it a nationwide business.”

“Shut up.” Conrad begged, “I’m in, Neil, as long as this dude stops talking business around here.”

“Well, I am the most charismatic one here. Neil said so himself.” Steve mentioned.

“No! He said I was! I take full responsibility!” Tim said. “I’m the most charismatic!”

I put my fingers to my nose, pinching the bridge, trying to cool my anger. I then looked at Simon Quigley, “$&%* you, Quigley.”

“What did I do?!” He exclaimed.

“Just needed someone to take my anger out on.” I then started clapping my hands, trying to make everyone quiet. Conrad started clapping too, and eventually it was just me and him clapping. He slowly died down, and I was the last to clap.

“So, are you all in?”

“Yeah.” They all grumbled. Theo crossed his arms, kicking back in his seat.

“Alright… It’s time to unveil…” With a flick of the wrist, I took the tarp off my air hockey table. On top of the table was paint (which ruined the perfectly fine table), reading “IJP” in a crest.

“IJP? Insane Jorts Posse?” Conrad asked.

“InJustice Pleats.” I said.

“Why not just use your Legion of Plume moniker?” Theo asked. I sighed again.

“It’s InJustice Pleats. We’re WAY past that, now. Come on, everyone, let’s get to team-building.” They all groaned.

Getting to Know Everything About You

By Conrad “The Batfold Who Laughs” Mordecai

“So, my name is Conrad Mordecai, and my favorite color is purple. No, wait, it’s green — hold on, maybe it’s purple. Jeez, Neil, why’d you have to select such an absurd question?” I asked.

“It’s not a crazy question, Conrad.” He responded, glaring at me, “It’s literally the most simple one.”

“When I went on a date with Martha Flourest, she asked me ‘If I was an uno card, what would I be?’ and, to me, that is a much more simple question that ‘what is your favorite color.’”

“Mine is Orange!” Tim exclaimed.

“Red.” Theo and Simon said at the same time.

“Black, it’s the color of business.” Steve mentioned, “Notice how in history, most men in black suits make the best deals. That’s why I’m wearing one right now.” Looking at his shirt, it was actually a teal-ish color. I raised my hand to say something, but Neil shot me down.
“I’m gonna have to say green, but… what did you say to Martha?” Neil asked.

“I told her she’d be a red reverse card.”


“She always threw stuff back at me with a lot of anger. Didn’t really like that one.” The group started laughing at my joke, and I smiled. Still had it.

Anyways— what have I been doing?

Nothing, really. Dad made me go to Murakami High School, and I’ve kept my head down there ever since. I didn’t want people talking to me, I didn’t even want people looking at me. So, I really avoided everything and everybody — even Alan… until now. I had gotten a text from Neil, I don’t even know how he got the number, and, well, here we are.

“Listen, let me ask the good questions.” Tim said, holding up his puppet. 

“Go ahead.” Neil sighed, “I apparently ask the hard ones.”

“Can a dog suffer? What about an ant? What about a plant? What about a bacteria cell? Why do we claim that some can suffer yet others can’t?” He asked us.

“Dogs yes, ants no, plants I eat regularly, I don’t even know what a bacteria is. We can decide because we’re human. Next question.” I said, “That one was too easy.”

“Is it wrong to take from those that have a lot of stuff?” He asked.

“No.” I said, “Give me something harder.”

“What if you’re not even giving it to the poor, what if you just want to hold onto it forever?”

“Greed is not that big of a deal.” I confessed, “I don’t want other people to have my things, so I hold on to them.”

Tim smiled a yellow-toothed grin. He was liking me, and I wasn’t caring about him or his ‘hard-hitting questions’. Sitting around the air hockey table, Neil raised his arms in the air.

“Come on,” He said, “Tim had given you three morally-odd questions, and you answered them with ease. But you can’t decide on a simple color?”

“I agree with Conrad, though. I think it’s fine to hold onto stuff.” Theo mentioned, “And, well, my favorite color can change by the day, too. Yesterday it was blue. I respect his choice, though.”

“This is BS!” Neil exclaimed, “I had good icebreaker questions and—”

“If an ant can feel pain, it can’t communicate it to us. Why should I care if it suffers if it can’t speak? If it truly suffered, the ant would send its entire colony to attack me.” Simon said.

“Agh!” Neil said, grabbing his head in exhaustion.

“Here’s a good question for you all: do you consider yourselves good people?” Steve asked us, “I mean, I do. I had a bad ‘breakup’, sure, but I’m a ‘good person.’ Good people know the best tactics for helping people. But I also have to know when it’s the right time to hurt, which usually just involves me taking things that could help, and flipping it on its head.” We all glared at Steve, confused in what he was saying, and also kind of shocked when it really just boiled down to ‘I’m a piece of $*%&.’

“I mean, I think I’m a decent guy.” I said, “I may have been a terrible person when I was a kid, but now, I mean, I’m approaching college, and I’m pretty stable, y’know?”

“I’ve been addicted to buying lottery tickets ever since I turned eighteen.” Tim admitted. 

“This is just like my dad’s group therapy sessions.” Theo said, “The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, Tim.”

“If I stop now, my next one could be the one where I win a million dollars.” He said in response, “Is this meeting almost over? I gotta stop at the Speedway on Morrison.” Tim picked at his puppet, his leg shaking.

“Anyways…” Simon continued, shifting the focus back to us. He was typing away at his phone, “Looking at Stephanie Wulf’s Facebook page, it seems like every… Thursday night, the whole, erm, ‘cabal’, meets up at Olive Garden. They have this feast.” He turned his phone to us, showing the pictures. Everyone, including Tenebris, are holding up their puppets of Steppenwolf, Desaad, Granny Goodness, Darkseid, and there’s some guy that holds a Kalibak puppet.

“Who’s the tubby guy with the Gimli-looking puppet?” Theo asked.

“Caleb Ackerman, head of the police force here.” I said.

“How do you know him?” Neil asked me. I glared at him, and then looked away.

“They seem like a happy group,” Simon said, “And I think if we intercept them at the Olive Garden, using our ‘charisma’… We can, y’know, at least get the ball rolling. The head of the police force might not even be there.”

“I gotta get my Powerball ticket…” Tim said, “But this sounds good. I guess we’ll head out tonight? It’s Thursday, after all. I get all the breadsticks, too. I need to carb-load. Neil, if you’re paying, I’m gonna get the dips as well.”

Neil looked like he was getting a headache. He just stared at the logo on the Air Hockey table, I guess taking in all the back-and-forth, the stupid questions, the soon-to-be discussion with these higher-ups.

“Neil, how does that sound?” Simon asked. Neil immediately snapped out of it, looking around at all of us.

“Yeah, it sounds good.” He said. But… I could see it in his face, he was stressed out. It was time for the jester to make the leader happy.

Paranoia and Itinerary Planning

By Neil “Flex Luthor” Swift

I am surrounded by idiots. A businessman in a kid’s body, talking about how Bitcoin is a worthy investment and how, even though it is sinking right now, it’ll eventually swim back up to the top. I have a greedy addict, hell-bent on hoarding the worst, dumbest things imaginable. A former sidekick sits next to me, looking around with angry eyes. He wants to be a villain, but all he is is hurt, and he lacks the intelligence to use that hurt for something better. Something more.

Next, we have the “Star Quarterback” who claims he convinced the entire football team to be on his side as ‘gorillas’, which doesn’t make sense. He never even faced off against his “real” enemy, which would be Matthew Yen. Rather, he faced the sad mockery, the Kid Fold. So, there’s that. 

I don’t even know about Conrad Mordecai. A hero now? Disappeared from the face of the Earth not once, but TWICE? Now, he sits here, bickering about favorite colors. This man — he’s one of the OGs! But look at him! He’s washed up, he’s more ‘good’ than all of us combined! I don’t even know what to think about him. 

Then… There’s me. The leader of this, and I don’t even know how it’ll go. I’m so scared right now, it’s not even funny. The stress is eating away at me, and I’m doing that thing again, where I’m scratching at my skin because the thought of screwing up is horrifying to me. This could go one of two ways, and either way: I don’t like the look of it. Tim had taken most people — except for Max and Conrad — to the Speedway so that he could buy his Powerball ticket and Simon and Theo could get their necessary energy drinks. So, all that was left was me, the businessman, and the former-clown.

“You look nervous, Neil.” Steve said, holding up his Maxwell Lord puppet, “You know, a while back, I was nervous. I was in love with a girl who had her legs broken, I had asked her out, and we went on a few dates. It was fun, it was amazing. But, you know what I did?”

“You ghosted Theresa and then terrorized her a few years later?”

“Yeah, I ghosted her and then, a few years down the line, I came crawling back into her life. I dated the Origami Cheetah for a while during that too. I can’t even remember her name!” He laughed, “What I’m saying is, even if you’re freaking out about something, something else, some new opportunity, will always come around. Don’t you worry.”

Conrad laughed to himself, texting on his phone. Steve looked at him, “What?” Steve asked.

“Nothing, nothing. That’s just some of the worst advice I have ever heard.” He stood up, and walked over to me, putting a hand on my back. “Let’s talk outside.” He said. I sighed, and we walked outside onto my back porch. Beneath the rain (rare in California), we sat down in the dry wooden chairs, blocked by the cover over-head. The pitter-patter of the raindrops upon the grass, those light thuds as they dig a hole into the formerly dry dirt. It was peaceful. A frog croaked in the distance.

“Margaritaville chairs?” Conrad said to himself, “Neil Swift has Margaritaville chairs.” I crossed my arms, looking at him. 

“Yeah, and what about it?” I asked, “They’re comfortable.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I agree with you. Just the designs of palm trees and parrots… it all feels more ‘Alan Wade in his prime’ and not, well, ‘Neil Swift today.’ You’re all stuck up!”

“I’m just stressed out, that’s all. What if this doesn’t go through?” I confessed to the OriJoker. Not… Principal Sampson, impersonating Conrad.

“It probably won’t.” He said, “But that’ll be fine! Listen, all you need to know is that if you’re having fun, if you’re ‘living your best life’, then it’ll all be worth it. My dad says I can’t change the world, but you know what I realized?”


“That I can at least change mine. Besides, we’re seniors, we’re committed to our higher education already… What do we have to lose?”

I smiled at Conrad, because… Somehow, the clown was right. We watched the rain together for a while, in silence. It was pretty peaceful. I eventually got up, and we went back inside, leaving the rain to do its duty. 

Coming back in, the entire group was there, Tim grunting over the scratch-offs that continuously failed him.

“Are you guys ready?” I asked, “Because… I’m getting hungry.”

“If that’s supposed to be bad@$$, then it’s not working.” Theo told me. I didn’t care, though.

“I’m famished…” I said, trying to sound cooler than before.

“Neil, this is entering ‘weird’ territory.” Conrad nudged..

“I’m starved…?” 

“Let’s just go. I’ll drive.” Simon Quigley ushered. We stepped into his mother’s van, and Simon drove us to the Olive Garden; the place that could be our last supper as ‘students’.

Tim Stole the Unlimited Breadsticks and Then Everything Went Wrong

By Theo “Black Mantagami” Franklin

“Tim, can I have a breadstick?” I asked. It was so awkward, just a ton of guys, all with their goofy puppets in our back pockets, and now I’m asking the most greedy student this county has ever seen if I could have a breadstick.

“No.” Tim said, his teeth barred at me, his eyes strained as he ate two breadsticks at the same time, right in front of all of us.

“Why?” Conrad asked, “All of those carbs, and you won’t loan us any? We even got the dipping sauces. None of us can eat it without the breadsticks.”

“Womp womp.” Tim said, trying to sound like a trumpet in defeat.

“You @$$hole, give me one.” Simon said, reaching for a breadstick from the basket. Tim, the two breadsticks shoved into his mouth, slapped Simon’s wrist away. Simon massaged his wrist, and then went back for another one, which Larfoldz bit. Quickly reacting, he moved his hand away from Tim and looked at us. “I guess not.”

“I’ll give you five dollars to drink that, Quigley.” Steve pointed at the meaty marinara sauce.

“It’s just sauce.” He said, his quarterback-form leering over the marinara, ogling it.

“Yeah, if you drink the sauce, I might give you a breadstick.” Tim said, smiling with glee. I caught a glimpse of Neil, who wasn’t quite paying attention to the stupidity I was watching. He seemed to have sensed my stare, and he looked over at me, then at Quigley, who was drinking the whole meaty marinara cup. Neil simply shook his head, and looked away from all of us.

I remember being in Washington DC, and I saw brief glimpses of the Neil Swift. All-the-while, the Young Justcrease ran around, doing stupid stuff like seeing museums and visiting statues. But I saw him.

I kept seeing him. CJ Whogley and everyone else just ignored it, but I could see him. It was one of the earliest times I think, in my life, that I knew I was different than everyone else, that I was more aware, that I was more… in the moment.

So here I am, and Neil Swift is over there, and we’re working as a ‘team’, surrounded by idiots as Quigley downs an entire cup of Marinara sauce.

“For being Gorilla Grodd, you’re quite stupid.” Tim said, waving around Larfoldz, “You’re not getting any breadstick, dingus! I lied!” 

“But… I am a man of my word.” Steven gave Quigley a five dollar bill, “If you had haggled, I would’ve gone up to fifty.”

“Can I get fifty now?”

“No, you agreed to the predetermined deal. It’s too late.”

“You’re a $*#*.” Simon sighed.

“Shut up, everyone. They’ve gotten their appetizer.” Neil said, biting his fingernails now, nervous. This was the man that took down the Justice Pleats, and now he was chewing his fingernails like a little girl.

“What did they get?” Conrad asked.

“Calamari.” Neil said, still staring. He then looked away from the Cabal, I guess to try and make it not look too obvious. 

“That’s awful. You go to an Italian place and you get Calamari. Squid! We’re not even close to a beach.” Conrad exclaimed.

“Why does it matter if this is an Italian place?” I asked. Calamari sounded Italian, “I agree that we’re too far out for squid to be any good, though.” Conrad reached into his pocket and took out his phone. We stared as he was looking up something.

“Oh. Calamari does come from Italy, Turkey, Greece, and Spain. Nevermind.” He quietly put his phone away, “But my point stands.” Neil looked at a picture he had of Doctor Tenebris, and then looked back out there.

“They also got meatballs.”

“Okay, that’s good.” Conrad said, “I was worried there, but as long as they got the meatballs, thank the heavens above!”

“Let’s go.” Neil said. He got up from his seat, and began walking over to the table. There, we could see an old woman, a person our age, Tenebris, and a woman in a suit. As we approach the table, Neil shakes his head, looks at us, and says “I got to use the restroom.”

“What?!” I whispered. But he walked away, and… now we were right in front of Superintendent Darkseid’s cabal, and, well, Conrad said it best.

“We’re $&@*ed.” He whispered. Steve hushed him, and looked at the group.

“Hello.” Steve began, taking a seat with Tenebris and the rest, “My name is Steve Marston, I was a student at Kane.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Steve.” Tenebris said, looking at the rest of us, “Would you all like a seat?” We all sat down, staring right at the Doctor. I hope he couldn’t see my fear.

“These are my associates Tim, Conrad, Simon, Theo, and…” I saw Steve’s shock as he realized that Neil was gone. He abandoned us, “That’s all.”

“Well, what do you all want?” He asked, “Did Steven ask you guys to do this?”

“Who?” Simon asked.

“Nevermind.” Tenebris and his group sat back, “What can I do for you all?” He has asked three questions now, all similar, and we haven’t had a chance to talk. Before he could get another opportunity, Steve began.

“We all decided to come and talk to you today because we represent a silent majority.”



“That’s news to me. A silent majority… hm.”

“Yessir. They don’t speak much.” Conrad said, “Which makes them, well, silent.”

“Anyways…” Steve continued, “This silent majority wishes for Kane to return, hopefully with improved conditions, better education, and greater business decisions all around.”

“Oh… So you’re with Funtime, and Brainiac, huh?” The kid sitting with the group asked.

“No. Though none of us use Brainiac as a puppet, we have been rather unsavory DC characters in the past, like Maxwell Lord, Larfleeze, the Joker, and even Black Manta.” This was what killed us. This moment, right here. The first bullet was when Neil abandoned us, the killing blow was this, and the courtesy shot… “We figured that, well, since you guys are also using villains, we could work out a plan together to actually do something good. I’m a businessman first and a student second, so I can—” The words slowly faded from him, as he lost his train of thought. Tenebris and company stared at all of us, “What I’m saying is—”

“Jeez, Steve. Don’t you know when to stop?” Conrad asked. 

“All I mean is—”

“He’s made his decision.” Conrad said, “You can see it in his eyes, and it’s not good. It’s not what any of us want.”

“You all were troublemakers?” Tenebris asked.

“Yes, sir. But not anymore— we haven’t had any infractions since—”

“Conrad Mordecai, Steve Marston, Tim Gavings, Simon Quigley, and…” He pointed at me, “Theodore Franklin, right?”

I gulped, “Yes, sir.”

“Theodore Franklin… I thought you were one of the good ones. A star-student. You were Aquapleat, right?”

“Pad. My older cousin was pleat.”

“That’s right…” He reached into his bag, taking out his puppet of Darkseid, along with a few pink slips.

“Are you writing us some checks?” Tim asked naively. 

“No.” He then looked up at me, “I’m sorry, Mr. Franklin, but I would’ve expected you to be… well, better.”

I saw on the top of the pink slip: expulsion notice. He was writing out each of our names on individual ones, and Conrad saw the writing on the wall, and I did, too.

“Now, this isn’t going to do much. You won’t really be affected, since it’s the last four weeks of the school year and all. You’ll still be able to go to college, but your record will be, well, quite tarnished.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” I said.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it.” He grumbled as he wrote out the slip for me, taking a picture of it, and pocketing it, “No point in any of you coming into school tomorrow.” He then waved at all of us, “Now, if you will, I have a Steak Toscano that will be here any minute. Have a wonderful dinner, all of you.” We were stunned. I looked at Conrad, who glared at Steve, who’s head hung low. Tim grabbed all of Tenebris’ breadsticks, and I left the restaurant with everyone except Conrad. I saw Neil in the doorway of the restroom, and I glared at him. He stared at me, confused, but I just kept walking. 

We were all catching our breath when the Gorilla Groddigami, Simon Quigley, asked “Do you all need a ride?”

I was hyperventilating — I was a junior, I still had a whole other year, and now I was expelled. “$&@* you, Quigley.” I said in my panic. This can’t be fixed. I don’t know how on Earth this could be fixed. Conrad was calling his family, and Tim was unable to register what had happened.  But I knew. I knew, deep down, that I had been screwed over.

Only the Justice Pleats could fix this now. I’m done.


By Neil “Flex Luthor” Swift

I was in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. “What are you doing?” I asked the face looking back at me, the big nose, the shaggy hair, “Seriously. What are you doing?”

“You’ve left your colleagues in the dust, you walked out, and now they’re left to fend for themselves. Knowing Steve— Oh God, why of all people did I recruit Steve? — he’s going to screw it up for everyone else. He just will. He just looked horrifying, he was so freaking scary. Neil, what are you doing? You’re way in over your head, you’ve gotten your grubby little hands into some stupid crap and now you are facing the repurcussions. No you’re not, why are you saying that?”

Someone zipped up their pants, flushed the toilet, and walked out. I was speaking out loud because I thought I was alone, but I wasn’t. The kid with black hair, wearing the flannel in the almost-summer Californian heat took me out for a moment.

“You know if I were you, I wouldn’t be talking to myself in a public bathroom.” I glared at him, “I wouldn’t be taking blows I couldn’t handle.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Nothing, it’s just a saying I had, but it’s true. You shouldn’t need to do stuff you can’t do. You need help… I don’t know if it’s mental help, or just a friend, but bro. Talking to yourself in a mirror isn’t helping.” He then pointed at the puppet in my shirt pocket, “And get a new one, my guy. That one looks like crap.”

He then patted me on the back and left. I don’t know who that is.

When I walked out, I saw my entire InJustice Pleats leaving the scene. Theo glared at me, but then he left. Sitting at the table we were at was Conrad, and so I sat down with him. He caught me up to everything; including how I was right in my monologue to the mirror.

“I genuinely needed to use the restroom.” I lied.

“No, you didn’t.” He said, “But I don’t really care. He can’t even really do anything to me. Murakami is outside of his district.”

“I’m sorry about it, though.”

“Be honest, man, you made the best team you could. There’s not many ‘rogues’ in the gallery anymore.” He was right, besides him, everyone else was my last choice, “And I can see it in your eyes, you’re not having fun. What did I tell you earlier?”

“To have fun.”

“Yep, and here you are, not having fun.” Conrad Mordecai was right. I wasn’t. I wasn’t enjoying any part of this. I just failed everyone. “Do you know what you need to do?”

Deep down, maybe somewhere in my little egotistical part of me, I knew the answer to this, but I kept avoiding it. I didn’t want to confess to it. I didn’t want to look Conrad — or the guy I was thinking of — in the eye and tell him that I had failed, and I need his help, and there’s no other way to stop the incoming threat. I don’t know how they could do it, but they could. They need to. They have to.

“I know what I gotta do.” I said.

“Okay, good. Do you need his number? Cause, like… I have it, if you need it.”

“No, it’s fine… I have a different way of doing this.”

“Alrighty, go get ‘em! Make me proud! Any and all words of encouragement to you!” He said, as I started to walk out onto the uncharacteristically rainy streets of Jutefruce.

The InJustice Pleats may be dead. But I am going to make sure that the Justice Pleats will be resurrected.


Unexpected House Guest

By Alan “BatFold” Wade

Being back in the mansion feels so weird. It feels so… empty. Like, my friends are always coming over, hanging out and running around, but it feels so empty when they leave. Me and CJ live together, still, but he’s like… elsewhere, in one of the many, many rooms, doing something. I wonder if this was how he felt.

I still haven’t heard from Emily. She left right after her father was arrested, and… just kind of went on her own path. I genuinely hope she’s fine. It just hurts to lose contact with a friend.

Right now, I conduct all business from the dining room table, mainly because it’s right in the middle of everything; the entrance, the kitchen, the rooms, the bathroom. Being here is perfect because I can go anywhere that I need to.

My face has been recovering, by the way. It’s still pretty bruised, but I’m healing. It’s just… crazy. All that has happened. The three OriJokers, the coma, moving back in. I’m still pretty weak from it, and I’ve been going to Donner ever since. Ever since Kane closed, really.

It wasn’t typical for Danny, or CJ, or even Richy to ring the doorbell. So, as I was sitting at my table, reading the books Mr. Whats-his-name from English 400 made me read, and I heard the unfamiliar ding dong of the doorbell, I, of course, perked up.

I figured it was going to be Maddie. I mean, like, who else would it possibly be besides her? She always does cute crap like that. Some things I thought were cute, like her tapping her fingers together before saying something, were actually just… inner conflicts, but, we’ve talked through it now, we understand one another a lot more, it’s okay.

So, I got up, walked to the door, and, without thinking, I opened it. “Come on in, babe. You know you don’t have to ring that bell.”

But I didn’t hear a response.

I looked at who I just called ‘babe’, and I saw a face I didn’t think I’d see in a long, long, time.

“Uh… you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Neil Swift said. If he had come to my front door a year and a half ago, and I called him ‘babe’, I would’ve beaten him in. But… I already told him to come on in, babe. So, he stepped inside my mansion.

“What do you want, Neil?” I asked.

“Why are you so bruised?”

“I got beaten up during the Kane Lockdown.”


“Preaching to the choir, man. What are you doing here?” I asked. He held up a bald puppet, a snarl across his lips. Flex Luthor finally had a design.

“We failed, Alan Wade.” He said through the puppet. I stared at the paperwad, and then I looked back at him.

“Okay… why don’t we put the puppet away, and we talk like… person to person.”  Neil put the puppet back in his pocket, and he took a seat at my dining-table/workspace. He started rambling on about a new Legion of Plume, where it was called the “InJustice Pleats” because they were trying to fight back against the injustice of some SuperIntendent that really made Neil angry. He was getting frustrated as he talked about how he abandoned his team, how Conrad was the only one not really affected by it besides him, so there was some good there. I, personally, was just shocked to hear that Conrad was… you know, still around. I hadn’t really heard from him either. When he trailed off and fell silent, I let it all just kind of… you know… brew.

“So… like… you’re trying to bring back Kane? Why? Have you seen the roaches?”

He raised his head, looking at me. His eyes were full of a, before then, unseen rage. “Because I am tired of you guys sticking Donner up. We’re crammed, and this joke of a superintendent is ruining everything. He took C.A.D.M.U.S. away from me. My Original Legion of Plume team have graduated or they joined some ‘Shredder Squad’ crap. So we thought ‘oh, we got to put a stop to this guy, because NO ONE ELSE,” he said, pointing at me, “IS DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT.” I nodded. In retrospect, I was just kind of going along with the flow. If I knew that this was offending so many people, I’d probably have tried to like, you know, stop it in it’s tracks.

“So, what do you want me to do about it? The company doesn’t trust me with spending their money again. I’m not going to open another school, I don’t want Origami Owls messing with me.” Neil didn’t get that, so I just moved on. “I don’t know what I could possibly do to help out. I’m sorry, Neil. Believe me, I am.”

“Donner barely had any origami.” He said, “The few that we had, they were symbols of the heroes we wanted to be. Now we don’t have any. Not even a SuPaperMan. And what is a ‘Green Paper Lantern’ even doing now anyway? We need the Batfold’s help. We need the Justice Pleats. Trust me; coming from me, that is an insane statement to make.”

I looked at the table, feeling a pang in my chest that I remember having right before a Washington DC trip. I know that a part of this — Kane’s closure — was because of my actions. I know that the Justice Pleats failing was my fault, not Neil’s. I know that I must fix it somehow. With a team. I’ve fixed all my other relationships, why don’t I fix the ones I had with the Justice Pleats?

“Fine.” I said, “Where do we start?”

An Unexpected Recruitment

By Matthew “The Fold” Yen

So, I didn’t exactly know where I’d like to begin this. I’ve been taking a creative writing class this semester, something simple to just kind of get me through all of the craziness. Ms. Grant told me that I spend too much time lingering on the background and backstory, along with flashbacks (apparently, these are three different things), and that I need to challenge myself to live in the present, so, I’m just going to assume you know everything I’m talking about. Agh— I’m getting caught up in this idea of backstory, I’m sorry.

Me, my friend Casey (Who is now SuperPaperFoldGirl after her little Reverse Fold saga), Percy (Still wearing his goofy goggles sometimes, the ones his girlfriend gave him apparently while I was gone), and Jonathan (Who is totally reformed after his whole, y’know, Reverse Fold thing) were chilling outside after school, really talking about whatever to our heart’s content. How the semester is winding down, and how, well, excited we are for us to graduate (or, in the case of Jonathan, enter his Senior year).

“Have you heard back from Claremont?” Casey asked me. She had decided a little while ago that she’d be going to Claremont College in the fall, and that it would be awesome to have at least one person that she knew. In truth, I hadn’t really heard back from many of my schools. Everyone else around me had taken “Early Action” or “Early Decision”, reserving their spots in whatever school they wanted to attend. Heck, Jonathan had a whole summer planned out for him, full of traveling the country and visiting colleges. I, not for the first time ever, felt like I was falling a bit behind. I really fail to live up to my puppet.


“Matthew, you should any minute. UC Berkeley contacted me within the month, as did Harvard, Yale, Brown—” before Percy could continue on, I held my hand in the air, stopping him. 

“I’m sure you got into each of them, man, but I’m going at my own pace, okay?”

“We just don’t want this whole decision thing to be something that is, well, too late on the radar for you.” Casey said, looking a bit worried about me.

I wanted to tell them that they were my friends, not my college counselor, and I’ll totally let them know what happens whenever I am ready. But, before I could get a word out, a face that I literally forgot appeared in front of me.

Okay, I’m sure that there’s parts of this that have been all dashed through, Ms. Grant, but this time I really won’t give the backstory to this. Alan Wade was a slender guy who was my age. I guess he wanted to look older, because he was growing a slight stubble around his face. He was fit, fitter than when I saw him Sophomore year. Thinking about it, it’s weird how you can be in the same city as someone and yet never see their face on a daily basis. We all kind of froze up, the conversation went from fairly strong to immediately done.

“What are you doing here?” Percy asked, always the one to come in with the hard hitting questions. Alan raised his hands defensively.

“Listen, I don’t want any harm, I just want to talk to Matt.”

I looked at my gang, and Jonathan was really the only one ushering me to go. I stepped away from everyone, and started talking to him. “How’s everything been?” He asked. I would go in depth about the stuff, but out of a fear of being striked through, I won’t. He pondered all that I wanted to tell him, and he looked at me, “That sounds fairly long and painful, and I wish I could know more about the background of this.” He said, which is ironic, Ms. Grant, that someone wants to hear my backstories

“Get on with it, Alan.” I said.

“I’m forming a team again.” He said, “With an unlikely ally. I want to know if you’re, you know, interested in it.”

I looked around, thinking for a minute about this. I haven’t really thought about the Justice Pleats; honestly, I was the one affected the least by that whole incident. I got my Washington DC trip taken away from me because I was with people I didn’t know, but that’s really it.

“What… what would I get?” I asked. 

“You want dental or something? There’s this guy, Tenebris, and we got to take him down and get Kane back. It’s as simple as that.” In a storytelling class, this felt like a really simple premise, but I nodded.

“Okay. I’ll see you this Friday?”

“Alright.” I said. Then I looked back at my friends and my cousin. Alan was walking towards his car, and I yelled for him. He looked back at me, “Only if my friends can join.” I said.

“… Sure.” He said, “The more people, the merrier.” He then went back to his car and drove off.

“What was that?” Casey asked. I looked far, far away in the distance. 

“We have one last thing to do, I guess.” I said.

Ms. Grant’s Comment: Matthew, a journal entry in which you complain about my workshop’s methods is not helpful to yourself or me in understanding your writing style or tone. Your concluding sentence was not strong, and it felt like you didn’t even want to do this assignment. Next time you make comments, send them to your friends and don’t put them in a “Short Story”. The assignment called for fictional characters in the present ONLY, not THIS schlock. SEE ME AFTER CLASS.

A Jumpscare

By CJ “NightCrease” Whogley

So, it’s safe to say that the mansion has become a lot busier in the last semester. Me and Dad decided that it was best to live here and finish this semester in Jutefruce, as opposed to returning to Murakami High. Richy has a key, so he pretty much just lives in the living room after school. I try to reach out to Emily, but I really, really, never hear anything from her. It kind of sucks. Like, really sucks. I won’t say it, but it bums me out.

Tommy flew to New York. Yeah. We hear from him sometimes, but he said that if there was no Kane to defend, then it wasn’t worth helping out. So, nowadays, it’s just me, Alan, Dad, and Grandpa, with the occasional cameo of Richy.

Me and Richy were busy snacking on some potato chips in the kitchen. He had introduced me to Chester’s Hot Fries, which are totally different from “Flaming Hot Cheetos” despite having the same… “Cheetah” on both packages. 

“These are so freaking good.” Richy mumbled.

“I know, right?” I said. “I mean, you introduced me to them. You’re like a prophet!”

Richy laughed, raising the fry into the air, “I bestow upon you, my trusty disciple, a hot fry for your troubles. It is, of many, just one gift.” Before he could hand it to me, I heard a voice that didn’t sound like Alan’s deep, speaker-esque sound, or my Dad’s gruffness, or my grandpa’s faux-britishness.

“Can I have one?” The also deep voice asked, but it had a bit of a cheeriness to it that wasn’t like Alan’s. Expecting a truly-snapped Wade to be standing in the doorway, I turned around,  coming face to face with none other than Neil Swift.

“I’ve been getting that reaction a lot.” He said.

“You can’t just— What the %$&* are you doing here?!” I exclaimed.

“Me and Alan have been working together.” He said, taking a hot fry from the bag. Richy snapped the bag up. “Listen, I got a proposal for you all.”

“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying.” Richy grumbled.

“I’m not selling green sealant right now, Richard.” Neil jeered, “Me and Alan are forming a new Justice Pleats, and we need as much help as we could possibly need. Admit it, you guys are like… B-tier characters. You’ve been on teams, you know teams. You can meet up with teams.”

I was a bit offended. In my opinion, I was an A-Tier character. I mean, I’m an S-tier character in my story… maybe I’m not in everyone else’s? I shook my head, ignoring this thought.

“We agree, though. Right? Both of you know people. You can go out, recruit, and our forces can grow even larger than before.”

Me and Richy looked at each other, and then back to Neil.

“I mean, I guess you’re right.” I said.

“Good, so we have a deal, then?”

“Yeah.” Me and Richy said in unison. Neil held his palm out, and Richy dropped a few fries into his hand. He took a bite and then walked away. When he was outside of earshot, I looked at Richy.

“Do you know any teams?”

“Maybe? They’re more like clubs, but—”

“Okay, let’s just… y’know, recruit them. It’ll be a day, tops.” 

“A day? But the driving—”

“It’ll just be a day, ‘Richard.’” I said. Richy punched me in the arm. Then he continued his Hot Fry Prophet schtick.

Aquapleat’s Triumphant Return

By JC “Aquapleat” Russel

I don’t like thinking about my past. If you told me I would be facing my ghost of Christmas past in early May, right before preparing for college, I’d incredibly doubt you.

It was another week of homeschooling. I had been planning my “Graduation” party for weeks, especially because it was just going to be me, Theo, and the rest of my family. It certainly wouldn’t be an Alan Wade-level party, that’s for sure.

… Being alone sucks.

Having your self-inflicted exile interrupted? That sucks even more.

Neil Swift was at my door. I had opened it after the first doorbell, “JC—” He started, before I closed it back on him. I leaned up against the door, home alone, waiting for any response. “Listen.” Neil started, “I’m sure you would NEVER want to see me, or, heck, Alan Wade.”

“Me and Alan get along. Kind of.” I said against the frame. 

“I know just a small amount about your expulsion, really just from what your cousin, Theo, told me. I… you see, I got him expelled.” Hearing that, I slowly opened to door, looking at this dingus in front of me. He stared at me, smiling a bit with relief that I finally opened up for him. Then, I slapped him across the face. “I deserve that.” He said.

“You come to my home, telling me this crap, and now you expect me to forgive you?! Bullcrap! That is my cousin! What did you do to him?”

He told me about Tenebris, how Theo was a part of the team, and where he is and what he’s doing now. “You have every right to be mad at me,” he said. I was boiling over not hearing from Theo, “But there is a bigger fish to fry. It Is larger than any before. Kane is gone.”

“So?” I said. I transferred from that dump, and now I was homeschooled and happier than ever. 

“We need it back, Aquapleat. For the sanctity of the city. For what’s good in this town. Three is the magic number.”

Keeping a city safe, for the greater good. I’ve heard these lessons a million times before. I stopped the Swim Master, I helped in defeating Castillo. All in the greater good. I was a hero.

“Just one more time.” Neil said. I shut the door again, and I thought. I thought, and I thought, and I thought.

I can’t help doing good.

“When do we meet?” I finally asked, opening the door again. Neil was walking to his car, but he turned around and smiled at me.

“I knew you were still a hero. We’ll be in touch.” He said. Then, he walked away.

Simple Recruit

By Alan “The Batfold” Wade

“How are you feeling, dork?” Theresa asked. Me and Madalyn sat across from her in Wendy’s. Theresa has started lifting weights. That is the biggest difference compared to the last time I saw her. She had been going to the gym, and the results, in the last five months, were really showing itself. Meanwhile, I’ve been recovering, so I don’t really look at my peak fitness.

“I’ve been doing fine.” I said. Theresa scoffed.

“You’re being kind to me. I mean, you paid for my meal. That’s the most anti-Wade thing I’ve ever seen.” Have I really never paid for a single meal for people? “You sure you don’t have any brain damage?”


Tess looked at Madalyn. Madalyn, somewhat, looked doubtful.

“I believe her.” Tess said.


“Yeah. I think that she’s speaking the truth. Look in her eyes.”

I looked at Madalyn, who started laughing. “I’m just joking, babe.”

“I know.” I said,”But seriously. I’m fine.”

“So, fresh Wendy’s burgers, Dave’s Double, and you’re buying. What, you making a new Justice Pleats?” She took a bite of her burger. Let me be honest: I hate Wendy’s. I hate the bread, specifically, but I also really dislike the patties. They may be “Fresh, Never Frozen,” but that is the biggest fib I’ve ever heard. Something about the seasoning, I guess. It might not even be actual burger meat. I was also shocked, though, that she knew what I was about to talk to her about before I even started. I poked at my spicy chicken nugget.

“How’d you know?”

“Well, if you need a quick answer, sure. Your little Red Hoodie helped us out a while back.” I froze. Did he? “Richy said you were going to reach out to me.” She took the last couple bites of her burger, passed Madalyn her fries, and got up.

“I’ll see you around, Alan. Just give me a call whenever.”

When she left, me and Madalyn stared at one another. I didn’t know Neil reached out and told Richy to go recruit the teams yet. A part of it was good, it saves us time. But Neil needs to communicate.

“Okay, let’s practice our little paranoia mantras.” Madalyn said, “When you’re thinking people are going to screw you over, what do you say?”

“People are good, people respect, people are good people.” I said.

“Yes.” She had me repeat it a few times before I believed the words I was saying. She was right. Neil changed. It seemed like he cared about something “good.” I needed to stop doubting, and I also needed to stop taking the lead.

The Origami Question

By Alan “The Batfold” Wade

“Should we recruit…” I looked through my notes, all the previous stories that I had collected, mainly back in Sophomore year. “Walter Gilligan?”


“Oh, he was just this kid. Friends with Vinny. He was the Spectre.”

“There was a Spectre.” Neil said, looking at me with disbelief 

“Yeah, and he was at Kane.”

And he was at Kane.”

“He was actually integral to getting all this information.” I said, “I’m not lying.”  Neil leaned back in my swivel chair, raising his hands in defense.

“Listen, Alan. All I’m saying is that we shouldn’t recruit an unknown into the original team.”

“But he was a part of the original group. It was me, Theresa, Stuart, Matthew, JC, Chris, and Walter.”

“Did he have a story? Like, one I could physically pick up and read like your little document that helped the Legion of Plume?”

I flipped through my folders, shaking my head. “No.”

“So he’s not recruited. Unless he’s a part of any of those teams that your little Robins are recruiting, he’s not welcome.”

“What about…” I slid him a story, the puppet on the cover wore a yellow shirt with a blue coat, and he had on a hat. His face lacked a mouth or eyes. “The Origami Question? Charlie Robinson. Broke his legs. Solved a case.”

Neil stared at the puppet, then back at me. “You guys love breaking legs.”

“I did an inspiring speech to my team about that exact subject before it was revealed that I %&$*ed everything up.” I said. Neil and me, much to my disappointment, were really similar. Like I would if I heard this information, Neil nodded, looked back at the puppet, and then back at me.

“I don’t like the puppet’s vibes.”

I sighed a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness. Charlie Robinson was one of the most absurd, weird people I’ve ever met.”

“So, it’s agreed. We don’t recruit him.” 


“Perfect. So all that’s left is Stuart Jones, right?”

I’d recruited Theresa and Matthew, and I had a little plan for Stuart, and I know that Neil managed to get JC.

“No. We’re missing Chris.” I said. Neil looked at me, his eyes pleading ‘no.’ “I know, I don’t want to confront him. But one of us has to.”

The clock ticked, and we were silent. We were going to stay silent until one of us just bit the bullet and recruited him. Neil buried his face in his hands, groaning a loud, nasally groan.


“Sweet, I knew you had it in you, buddy.” Neil picked up his car keys and started walking outside. He flipped me off on his way out.

An Attempt Was Made.

By Neil “Flex Luthor” Swift

I stood outside Chris Booth’s home, staring at the entrance for an eternity. No cars sat in the driveway, but I figured that he was probably still home, maybe his mom was out and about or something. I didn’t know how I’d start it, but on the drive to the house I had rehearsed what I’d say. ‘Mr. Booth, I humbly apologize for all the distress I caused you over the years, but we are in a time where one must meet at a crossroads and say “Hey, I’m sorry, but there is an enemy far greater than both of us.” For that reason, I must ask you today if you are willing to work with me and Alan Wade in defeating Doctor Tenebris, the man who will destroy the school system of this wonderful town if we don’t do this.’

Before I knocked on the door, I saw a stone slab sitting on the side of the house, “Dad: A superhero to everyone / a loved one to whoever met him / while you have passed on / your soul remains with all of us.” I stammered for a moment at the door. I didn’t… I had no clue that his father died. All this mortal enemy stuff, stopping him and his group just because I hated him… But he was going through his own crap, and I didn’t know. I… I didn’t know.

Before I could knock on the door, I heard a voice that made the hairs on my arms stand up. “Can I help you?” She asked. The voice sounded a tad annoyed, but that was typical for her. I could recognize Penny Layne’s investigative voice from a mile away.

“Yeah…” I said, turning around. She held a dog leash in her hand, and her eyes widened with fear, which quickly turned to anger at the sight of me. “I’m looking for Chris.” I said.

“You need to leave, now.” She demanded.

“But there’s something coming, Penny. We need Chris to stop it.”

“Listen. I miss Chris as SuPaperMan too. But Chris as… Chris? That’s enough for me. He’s happy, he loves his life. He still draws the little cartoons, too. I think he’s just fine the way he is. So… please, leave.”

I started to step past her, and she stared right at me. I could feel her eyes looking at my back. I sighed, turning around, “Look. I don’t know what exactly happened, but I’m sorry. I haven’t seen the real SuPaperMan since… well, over a year now. There’s been mockeries, even my brother was one, but… we need him. Just one last time. I don’t know what is going on with him; I don’t know what is even really going on with this superintendent. But Penny, please. Try to get through to him, try to convince him to come back. You— and him — you’re both the key to all of this.” 

She turned around, ignoring me. I guess I couldn’t get through to her. Sighing, I got back into my car. She stepped into Chris’ house, and I sat in the driveway for a moment, setting up my GPS to get back to Alan’s home. She stepped outside with a dog attached to the leash, staring at me still. I awkwardly waved my hand and backed out of the driveway.



By Derek “Hal Jordanigami: The Green Creaser” Clarke

The whole hero thing is weird, but I’m not exactly opposed to it. We never really had to face a Sinestro, or Black Hand, the Manhunters, Atrocitus. We’ve just… you know, kind of vibed out. It’s been so simple, in fact, that I forget about the puppet in my binder, and I really just spend time with Darren and Stuart. Staying out of trouble through graduation? Yes please.

But then Stuart got a text on his phone, one that made his eyes light up.

“Dude! They’re getting the band back together!” He said.

“You were in a band? I’ve known you since we were kids, what did you even play? The recorder?” I asked. Stuart glared at me.

“No. The ‘band’ was the Justice Pleats.”

I remember them. I remember how horrible I was to Stuart, and how I went along with whatever Neil Swift said. “Really?” 

“Yeah, come on guys! Let’s go!” We were waiting for our rides home, but Stuart made us start on an annoying trek to the rich-side of town. We passed by the destroyed Kane, wanted through the streets of neighborhoods, and I could feel Darren’s exhaustion. 

“Dude, we gotta slow down.” I told Stuart.

“There’s no slowing down when we are getting the band back together.”

“I thought you hated those guys; you said you didn’t fit in.”

“Yeah, but the Washed Up Has-beens groupchat was fun. We saw Aquaman together.”

“Do you guys still talk in there?”


“So what’s the point—”

“Listen, Derek.” He stopped in his tracks, looking at me and Darren, “I had no friends. I thought you were my friend, then you weren’t, and now we’re good. You weren’t there, but then I had the old Justice Pleats team, and everything was fine and dandy. I owe them this much.”

I nodded. Our friendship was still occasionally rocky, but we had been working on communicating our feelings more. 

“I get it.” I said.

“Okay, good. Let’s keep going. Theresa told me that it was at Alan Wade’s home.”

“What was?”

“The meeting.”

“There’s a meeting? That they didn’t invite you to?” Darren asked.

“Theresa told me to come. I’m sure she asked already.”

Eventually, we reached a mansion. I stared at the large home, with its bougie brick-driveway and the tennis court next to it. This was Alan Wade’s home. At this point, Stuart was skipping up the stairs. I looked at Darren, and Darren shrugged.

“I just hope this guy has chairs.” Darren said.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because rich people are weird man. They might not have chairs, or they’ll eat people.” 

“I don’t think—” I started to debate Darren, but Stuart knocked on the door three times. An old guy opened the door.

“Oh. Three more people. None of you are my grandson.”

“We’re looking for Alan Wade.” Stuart said, “Strict Justice Pleats business.” The man looked at all of us, and then closed the door.

“I thought Alan Wade betrayed you guys with that note.” Darren said.

“He did, yeah.” Stuart mentioned.

“Then why—”

“People change, guys. We have seen that first hand. Come on.”

“Speaking of people changing, what happened to Carol?” I asked.

“Who?” Stuart asked.

“Carol. I thought she was your pink lantern girl.”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t know. Does it really matter now?” He looked back at Alan’s door, “The Justice Pleats are back!” Seeing Stuart’s joy was something that, a few years ago, I’d have hated. Now? It’s a welcome sight.

Alan Wade opened the door, “Welcome, welcome!” He exclaimed, then he looked at me and Darren.“Uh, Stuart, why is your mortal enemy and some random with you?”

“I brought my corps!” Stuart said, a grin across his face. Alan looked right at me.

“Sure, I guess two bad guys turned good are welcome here.”

 The entrance was really empty. 

“Uh, everyone is in the game room.” Alan told us. “The main guys, I guess. Come on.”

I looked at Stuart, who raised his fist up for me to fistbump. I did it, and then Darren did as well. 

I guess I’m a Justice Pleats member now.

Assemble. (Part One)

By Alan “The Batfold” Wade

The gameroom can fit up to fifty people at a time. I had forgotten that number after living in such a small house, but I am thankful that it can fit that many, as it still felt like there was room to breathe in here. Me, Stuart, Derek, and Darren all stepped back into the game room. Darren was taking it all in, while Stuart was just excited to really be back on the Justice Pleats team. Derek, meanwhile, walked with his arms crossed. The rest of the people: Matthew, Jonathan, Percival, Casey, Neil, Theresa, and JC all hovered around the tarped Billiards table. We all fit in around it. 

“What’s this?” Neil asked, flicking at the covered tarp. 

“You’ll see.”
“So why is he here?” Stuart asked, pointing at Neil. Neil glanced at me.

“Once again, you’ll see. Anyways, this is everyone. Shall I begin?” I asked.

“Oh great, another Alan Wade classic speech.” Theresa grumbled.

“I have put a lot of thought into this for a long time, and I have been worried about what I should say. I know that the last time we met around a table much like this one, it was the beginning of the end for a team that could’ve been great. I can’t ask you guys to forgive me. I have gone through ups, and downs, but the biggest thing I realized in those times was that a good support base was necessary for anything; people you cared about, and people that cared about you. So, there’s no fear here. I’m not worried about you guys betraying me. While I’m Batfold, I am not paranoid like Batman.

“Similarly, while JC is Aquapleat, he’s no longer king of the swim team, like Aquaman would be. Stuart, you and your corps might be Green Paper Lanterns—”

“I go by Creaser. Darren goes by Paper. We’re all green, though.” Derek interrupted. I didn’t say anything, but Neil shot a glare at him. 

“You and your corps might be Green Paper Lanterns, or Creasers, or Papers, and while you have the willpower, you’re the farthest thing from Space-traveling supercops. Matthew, while you and your ‘Team Fold’ act as one of the tightest friend groups I’ve ever seen, you guys aren’t… you know, the fastest people alive. In fact, your leg being broken was what earned you the title of the Fold. But you guys have your own parts to play, you guys are strong together, and no amount of speed could break that barrier. And Theresa…” I had a lot I could say about Theresa, “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve met. You lead your Amazon troop, you are strong-willed, you’re a bit brash. You’re the most like the comic hero. But you’re also not. You’re a teenager, you’re prone to being harsh, you’re strong but at a cost. Nonetheless, you’re still my friend. And Chris couldn’t—”

Theresa, who’s eyes were turning red with tears, waved, “Come on, Wade, get on with it.”

“Chris couldn’t make it.” I said, “We… couldn’t get in touch with him. I know some of you guys tried,” I looked at Theresa, who was close to Chris sometimes, “But he couldn’t be there. Nonetheless, I believe it’s not the puppet that makes the hero within us. It’s ourselves. That’s why, for the time being…” I turned to Neil, who reached into his bag, putting on a blue folded “S” Symbol, tied around with string as though it was a necklace. He also held up his puppet, who was wearing a blue body-armor with that familiar Superman insignia. Only thing was that Flex Luthor’s Bald head looked totally different than Superman’s curl.

“Flex Luthor has it under control.”

Everyone stared. They were silent.

“I know we can’t trust him, we probably shouldn’t trust him. But you guys went out on a limb with me, and I feel like we all can go out on a limb with him. He isn’t Lex Luthor. He’s just another high school student, angry about the injustices he sees. So… don’t let the puppet make the person. We are all heroes.”

“But how can we defeat Tenebris? We’re just eleven people.” Jonathan Yen asked.

I smiled, “We’re increasing our ranks. The Justice Pleats is going large. CJ and Richy… well, they’re working on a mission of their own.”

Theresa smiled a familiar, knowing smile. Jonathan, not really putting two and two together, tilted his head.

“And that is?”

“They should be here… any minute now…”


The Reunion

By Vanessa “Origami Raven” Strong

Ashley Perez had joined our friend group last semester. I guess that’s what Tin Titans really is now — just a friend group. The ragtag gang that doesn’t really face anything. However, our founder has not been anywhere to be seen. That’s why we’ve added Ashley into the team. Not to replace CJ — far from it, actually. Dayvon has become the new leader. Andrew still has Beast Boy and Gerald, his hamster. I’m actually shocked Gerald is still alive… they can sneeze and blow up their brains.

To round out the group, Ashley’s introduction was necessary. She was in Selena’s AP English Lit class, and Selena, in her typical cheerleader way of explaining things, said “She’s cool, and I think she would make a great addition to the team.” We invited her to lunch, and she really hit it off with Andrew (mostly Gerald), and Andrew was like, immediately “yeah, let’s bring her in.”

Ashley was given a Terra puppet. Andrew made it; he said that she was another member of the Teen Titans, so it made sense for her to join with that puppet. We all knew of course that Terra betrayed the Titans and eventually died, and we also kind of figured that Andrew was getting feelings. Anyone that can snuggle Gerald without being bit is a good person in his book.

Ashley, I guess, is pretty smart. She’s grounded, headstrong, and fairly confident in herself. Honestly, there’s no leader in the friend group; I don’t know why I even said it. I guess it’s because of who showed up in the library today.

“Do you guys know how long of a drive this is?” He asked, “I can’t make the drive everyday, Titans.”

“CJ!!!” Selena exclaimed, dashing over and wrapping him in a hug.

“Great to see you too, Selena.” He said. His face was pink, “You smell nice.” Andrew looked at me, and I looked at him. Yeesh. Selena stopped hugging him, and CJ stayed frozen. His cool and sturdiness had been lost.

“Were you at that lockdown, bro?” Dayvon asked, lifting CJ from the chair and bumping him.

“Yeah…” He said, still in a daze. He shook his head and smiled, “It was a bit crazy, but me and Alan— and a few others, honestly, all saved the day. It was kind of cool. Like a roller coaster, y’know? It’s scary at first and then amazing after it happened. What have you guys been up to?”

“Just… going to class, y’know? Living a life. Doing things.” Andrew said, “Uh… we added a new member of the team.”

Ashley stepped forward, smiling a wide smile. “Hey! I’m Terragami!”

CJ looked at me. I sighed, “No, she isn’t being controlled by a Scissor Slade or something.”

“Okay, good.”

“She’s just a cool part of the team!” Andrew smiled, “So, what are you doing here? Jutefruce is like… an hour and a half drive, right?” 

CJ explained what had been going on in the town; how his school there had been unrightfully shut down, and that a ton of students were misplaced. We all listened with intensity. He explained who Tenebris was, and even mentioned other names of known associates, such as Mrs. Cooke and a kid named Mitch. Ashley was about to say something, but CJ, as usual, didn’t know when to stop talking.

“It’s just getting pretty stressful around there.” He said, “I think everyone is at their wit’s end, and I’m not quite sure what we could do.”

“CJ, if you’re asking for our help, just say it. We’ve always been on call whenever you needed us.” Dayvon told him.


“Yeah, bro. I mean, crap, we’re still in the Young Justcrease discord, y’know?”

“Oh, man. I know.”

“So, come on; let’s stop this guy, but on one condition.” Dayvon said.

CJ smiled, “Lay it on me.”

“You come around more!” Selena exclaimed, wrapping him in a hug again. CJ blushed once more.

The Puppet Society

By Richy “The Red Hoodie” Wickinni

Why is it, when we draw straws, I always get the weirdos?!

Constantly… CONSTANTLY CJ gets like something cool and then I get the bad end of the bargain. One time, we were flipping a coin for a cosmic brownie. Whoever lost had to eat gum off the ground. CJ, of course, wins, and I can still remember the burned chewiness in my mouth even today.

So, the Puppet Society and Justice Pleats Dark go hand-in-hand. As far as I can get from different stories I’ve heard around the city, they’re some of the weirdest, most off-kilter people around. Their leader? Theresa Carter. She shares a spot on both teams, and, often-times they do things together. Like… What happened today.

A kid named Chester, who, with the help of his cat Shmickles, had stolen Eleanor Borshokavski’s tarot cards. He had declared himself the PSA/JPD’s mortal enemy, Origami Klarion the Witch Boy, and he had taken up hiding in some abandoned, once-burned down house off the street. I had managed to find their location as Alex, the Doctor Plate, along with Vietch, the Constancrease/Sandman posted on their Snapchat stories about the whole ordeal. I was able to catch them while they stopped at a Speedway and ate hot dogs.

The overall team, compared to just this one kid, was insanely huge. Consisting of Vietch, Alex, Walter Gilligan (This weirdo named the Spectre), Theresa Carter, Dottie Nolan (The Huntress), Chloe Pines (Black Canary), another weirdo named David Franklin (Martian Manshredder), Megan (Stargirl), Taylor (Hourman), Eleanor, Kaden Fahey (Origami Swamp Thing), Neil Vanderlin (Foldifer Morningpleat) and Derrick Boston (Shredman), this team was way too big. Nonetheless, they worked well together, like the Crease Family did during the Three OriJokers incident.

I had stalked them through the woods, hiding in the maroon hoodie as they journeyed around. Eventually arriving at the house, I saw as firecrackers went off and the gang making a mad-dash inside. I followed them as they searched through the house, like we were in Scooby Doodle instead of Justice Pleats Dark

They didn’t find Chester. I did.

He was doing a tarot reading in the bathroom when I tore away the tarot cards. His cat hissed at me, proceeding to bite my arm in a lunge. I screamed, and the rest of this gang all squeezed into this bathroom, preventing Chester from escaping. The day was saved, thanks to all my help.

“So, Richy, what do you want?” Theresa started as Eleanor tended to my wounds.

“I was wondering, Theresa, if I can take you—” Theresa slapped me. I held my face, “Jeez!”

“I won’t go on a date with you, Richy.”

“No! I don’t want that!” I exclaimed, “Anything but that! Has Alan or Neil spoken to you about getting the Justice Pleats back together?”

“Neil?” Theresa asked, looking over at Foldifer.

“Oh, honey, I have no part in this.” He said, smirking, “Must be the slightly balding boy with the ego trip. My luscious mane could never.”

“He’s not—” I started, and then I sighed, “Okay, listen. Alan is trying to get the Justice Pleats back together, but he’s trying to make it huge. Like… big. You guys don’t have to, but I’d really appreciate it if you all joined our team. You’d all be considered bonafide Justice Pleats members.”

Theresa looked at her large team. Chester struggled free of his knots, picking up Shmickles and making a mad dash through the house and out into the forest. She sighed.

“Well, yeah. Absolutely. Our team will help, right gang?”

“Uh… I feel like I’m the leader here.” Vietch said. 

Theresa chuckled, “I love your optimism, but I’m the most neurotypical one here.”

“Ugh.” He sighed, “You got me there. As the actual leader, sure. What’s in it for us?”

“Uh… Free Citizen Wade’s Soup for life?” I offered. The entire team groaned.

“Is it too late to back out now?!” Derrick exclaimed. Nonetheless, they were in.

Teen Titans: Fold! 4 — The NEW OriRobin!?

By Eric “Origami Teen Titans: Go! Beast Boy” Brawnly

This is so cool! We, as a team, haven’t gotten to do much ever since we joined the AWESOME Young Justcrease, but, recently, we have kind of become our own thing after that weird Civil War happened. Things were just too much for all of us! 

Anyways, we were trying to take down our team’s mortal enemy, Klarion the Origami Witch Boy! His name is Castor, and he has a hairless cat named Smeagol! This guy, named CJ, joined us in Lampert to help us find him. He said, “Hey! Can you guys help me?” and we were like “No!” because WE don’t talk to strangers. But then, he said that he’d help us if we agree to help him later, which reminded me of getting a quarter for doing a mission with Richy, so we were like “Sure!”

Castor was doing backflips down the hallway, his cat running by his side as we all ran after him. CJ, who had this puppet of Nightcrease, started fighting against Castor. We just let him do his thing as we talked about pizza, Fortnite, and Minecraft. He kept dodging punches left and right, it was so cool!

His phone was buzzing, and he had an airpod in his ear. He said, “Answer.” We couldn’t hear anything, but he said “Richy, I’m a tad busy here!” So, we knew that he was someone interesting, as he was working with Richy!

Eventually, Castor was defeated by CJ, and Castor was immediately expelled for his transgressions. Tenebris and this stuff might suck, but it’s AWESOME when you can get anything you want without consequences!

However… CJ explained to us just how BAD and AWFUL Tenebris actually was! We were playing into the system!!!!

So, we immediately agreed that NO MORE! And the Teen Titans: Fold was BACK in the fray!!!

A Mixup

By Richy “The Red Hoodie” Wickinni

I think I was supposed to meet the Teen Titans: Fold… They knew me the best, and I fear that my old squadmates are a bit… well, immature, to say the least. I managed to get our Starfire to agree to come down, and I said I was heading to meet with the rest of the TT:F, but I realized that, well, here I was at the usual meeting spot for them in Lampert, and either this team wasn’t the same people, or I was with the wrong team.

“What is it?” A girl, who I’d later learn was Jessie Bennett, the Wonder Girligami, asked, “Your maroon hoodie looks dirty, bro.”

“Listen, last night I was following—” No matter how I was going to put this, it was going to sound horrible, “Nevermind. I’m Richy Wickinni, I’m the Red Hoodie. Ever heard of me?”

“The hoodie is maroon.” The Glue Beetle said.

“Okay, shut up about my hoodie and hear me out.”

“Why should we hear you out if you’re going to tell us to shut up?” Maria Ramirez, Jinny Hex, asked.

I put my fingers to my nose bridge, something I had taken from Alan when he was frustrated. “I’m sorry. Let’s just restart. I was told by CJ Whogley to come here to meet with the Teen Titans: Fold, as his research had shown that they frequent here.”

“Yeah. In the morning.” Jessie said, “We’re the evening crew. We kind of have a little thing going. If CJ wants us, then he should just come here himself.”

“Did you guys fall out or something?” I asked.

“No, there’s no anger towards him. It’s just common courtesy.” Maria answered for Jessie.

“Okay, tell you what — why don’t I… give him a call, and you talk to him, and we all work this out. Okay?”

“Sure.” Jessie said. I took out my phone and dialed CJ.

“Hey, CJ, I’m with Jessie and…”


“And a few others. One has a Blue Beetle puppet, the other has a Ms. Martian… thing. They’re wondering if they can speak to you?”

CJ was grunting and groaning, pushing against something on the phone, “I’m a bit busy right now, Richy!” The call ended.

“Okay, so…” 

“We’ll help.” Maria said, “We talked about it while you were on the phone.”


“Not really. I just have executive decision making power. We’re not doing anything anyways.”

“Cool.” I said, “Sorry about the whole mix-up, I’ll… uh… I’ll let you guys know when you’re needed.” I slowly walked out. I hate getting the short end of the stick.

Assemble. (Part 2)

By Alan “The Batfold” Wade

CJ and Richy stepped through the doors, a large group of people behind them. Theresa and co all turned to look at the large group forming. “Hey, guys!” CJ exclaimed, smiling. Even his friends from Marukami were there; people I had never gotten to meet before.

“Welcome, welcome…” I said. “Happy to see such familiar faces, and some new ones! Welcome. Just crowd around this table for me.” It took some maneuvering, but we all stood at the tarped table. “We’re all here with a common goal in mind: to stop Tenebris. We’re upset with the power he has on the city, how we lost a place that was important to us, made everything a whole lot harder for everyone else. We want it to stop. So, as a group that has come together for Justice…” With a flick of my wrist, the tarp came clean off the billiards table, revealing the old paint that Theresa had done. Oos and Aws echoed throughout the crowd, “Welcome to the new Justice Pleats, everyone.” I said. They all started cheering. Eventually it died down, the theatrics and joy fading out.

“So… What’s the plan?” This one kid, dressed in all blue asked.

“Oh, I don’t have one yet.” I said. Neil elbowed me, “Uh, we don’t have one yet.”

The group looked fairly disappointed. Some people started suggesting kidnapping, others thinking that we could sue him, someone told me to just buy the plot of land and build a new school. None of it was really working for me.

“Okay, listen, we’ll all talk amongst ourselves. I’m going to make a large group chat with all of our numbers, so put your name and number on this notebook. DO NOT TAKE THE PEN. It’s two hundred dollars.” I said, putting down the notebook and my best pen. A line formed as people wrote down their stuff. “We’ll meet next week.” I said over the chatter.

At the end of the line, Neil Vanderlin, the familiar face of Foldifer Morningpleat, picked up the pen.

“How have you been?” I asked.

“Okay.” He grumbled, “Listen, Wade. My brother was a piece of work. Insane. Lonely. He had what was coming to him. Nonetheless, he is my blood; so I’m the same in a lot of ways. I’ll support you, as you’ve always been kind and a wonderful friend to me, but know that… well, I want Kane back more than anything. I want Complicare back.”

I held out my hand, “Understood. I’m happy to have the Foldifer Morningpleat on my side.”

“Happy to be here.” He smiled. Then, he held the pen up. “This is coming home with me.”

“N-No—” but Neil was out, leaving just me and Neil Swift alone.

“That went better than expected.” He said.

“My pen.”

“You can afford another one. Suck it up, pal.” He put his hands in his pockets, “Now, we just wait. See yah!” With that, he left.

I want my pen.


Chapter I: A Visit to a Small Planet

By Chris Booth

“Well, sweetheart.” Mom said, looking around the cafeteria. A bunch of college kids sat around, drinking their juices and eating too-wet pasta, “This is certainly a university.”

“It’s cool, right?” I asked. Mom nodded along. “I mean, yeah, the food isn’t great, but who is going to college for food? It’s also close to home; an hour long drive? I mean, it’s not bad at all.” Penny was going to UCLA. She’d be a bit of a ways away, but we had agreed to try and make it work. In a way, I felt at home here. During the summer a few years ago I went to this camp at Nodel; the Reynolds Summer Camp, and I spent some time with Stuart. I actually went because I had heard that there was going to be something bad happening there, but, come to find out, it was just an advertising technique for the camp. It really only worked on me. I know, that’s sad.

But, I had a ton of fun there anyways. It felt at home, and the dormitories weren’t that bad either. “Mom.” I said. She looked really nervous, “It’s a fun school, with kind people. You saw the dorms. They look good. What was it that they said? Greco-Roman inspired architecture with state of the art, modern dormitories?”

“I guess it does have that Hogwarts feel.” Mom finally said. But I knew something else was eating her up inside. 

“What is it?” I asked.

“I just, I don’t know. I guess I knew this type of thing would be coming around, but I didn’t think it would be this soon.” She took a bite of her salad; the only thing in the dining hall that she thought looked appealing.

“Ma,” I said, “I know that if Dad was here, he’d be happy for me, and he’d be with you every step of the way.”

Mom looked at her food again, nodding. “He would know what to say.”

“Yeah.” We kind of continued eating our food in silence. 

I don’t know why, but, after dropping the SuPaperMan schtick, I kind of just thought a lot of things would get immediately better. My relationship is really steady; me and Penny get along really well. My grades are steady, and my SAT score came back really high; high enough to get accepted into Nodel. My journalistic cartoons, too, have been amazing. But there’s something, to me, that is missing. I guess it’s Dad.

Me and Dad used to play outside all the time. We’d spend countless hours in the Fortress of Only Dudes, and we’d talk about anything under the sun. When he died, I guess I dived deep into my work. The cartooning, the schoolwork, and, eventually, the SuPaperMan stuff and the SATs. I haven’t had a moment to grieve.

I don’t really think about the Origami stuff anymore. Theresa will go on these rants about whatever man of the week she’s facing, but I don’t really care. I just know that I’m doing fine on my own without that symbol weighing me down. Hearing the stories, though, are fun. I just don’t want to be in them.

At Donner, though, I have really felt this pressure with all of the new students coming in. So many new faces, and they’re all filling the halls, and none of them dress properly. The traditional clothes have gone away. A lot of the Donner students, proud of their school, wear the sports coats with the insignia stitched into it. But you don’t really see the former Kane students wearing that stuff. They’re wearing Polos, and shorts, and things I, in my four years of being there, would never have thought was allowed. It’s just… a lot of unnecessary pressure, but it’s not pressure that I need to make comics over.

“You know I’ll always be there for you, right?” Mom asked. “Just a drive home. Always in the same house.”

Mom.” I said, smiling, “Of course I do.”

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure. I’ll always be your SuPaperMom.”

I groaned, “You know I don’t do that anymore…” 

“Well, your dad made that symbol for you, and I loved you wearing it around school.” I decided to kind of tune Mom out, looking at my phone for the schedule of the rest of the visit. 

“So I get to sit in on a comics-art making class. You can come with me if you want.” I said to Mom. She nodded.

“Sure. Just don’t get mad at me if I fall asleep.” She picked up my plate and hers, and walked away. I sighed.  I miss Dad a lot, but I don’t know if I have the guts to ever put on that symbol again.

Chapter II: Shaken, not Stirred

By Penny Layne

I’ve been taking care of Chris’ dog this weekend and I’ve also been house sitting while he visits Nodel with his Mom. So, my shock and anger that Neil Swift was at Chris’ door was, to me, not that unwarranted. He has not bothered us since Sophomore, and it felt absurd to come around in literally the last few weeks of us being Donner students. There’s also something called a “School Email”, which we all have. This could all just be avoided.

So. What was meant to be time spent house-sitting and petting a dog that is absolutely the most loving, sweetest creature known to mankind, is now spent researching Doctor Malcolm Tenebris and what is so bad about a Superintendent that I didn’t care about until a few hours ago.

What I found… was interesting.

So, he has no background. Literally. Just kind of up and appeared one day. It’s probable that he changed his name at some point, but I don’t know when, and nothing is really turning up anything. But, the reviews for working in the corporate office downtown where he works as a Superintendent is scathing. Like, a toxic workplace, rude boss (who I assume is Malcolm), short breaks. There was something posted a year ago about a group of kids just rampaging through the place and the employees had to take a day off, but when they came back they had to clean up the entire office because the janitors quit. 

It seems like closing Kane was a power move. I think it was to get approval from the rest of California’s school districts in a faster, less productive way for the students. But the guy has no background. He has no history. He’s a megalomaniac, a piece of crap. 

I literally do not know how Alan, or Neil, could stop him. But I might be able to.

I could write an article, I could do something to potentially get the ball rolling.

Chapter III: Maybe Things Aren’t That Good

By Chris Booth

Mom pulled into the driveway and I grabbed my bags. The trip was split between the school and then exploring parts of that town, so it was the whole weekend that we were spending there. Penny was in the living room on her laptop, and she quickly sat up when she heard us enter. Krispito was barking. I patted his curly white fur.

“I didn’t hear you all pull up.” Penny said, standing up from her computer. She hugged my mom, and then she hugged me.

“Why didn’t I get the first hug?” I jokingly asked.

“Because your mom is cooler than you, duh.” Penny smiled, and then she hugged me again, this time for a bit longer. “So, how was it?”

“It was cool!” I said, “You’ll love seeing the dorms.” 

“Hey!” My mom exclaimed from the other room. I froze. I just said that out loud. 

“I didn’t mean—” Penny just kind of waved the whole thing off. Mom didn’t really care, I guess, but I did. “So, what did you do?” I asked Penny.

Penny didn’t answer for a bit. She shook, from the bottom her spine up, shaking off her nervousness. “Nothing, really.” She said.

I’ve been with her long enough to know that that wasn’t true. “Penny…” I said.

“No, seriously. It would bore you. I’m just working on a case, that’s all.”

“Are you upset with me?” I asked.

She laughed, and her lips formed a smile. “No, honey. I’m not.”

“Okay. You know—”

“I know how worried you get. I couldn’t be upset with you. Unless you killed someone. Or cheated. Or, well, there’s a lot of things I feel like I would have to be upset with you over if you did it.”

“Oh.” I said.

“The list is not comprehensive. But, no, you did not do anything to upset me in this moment, or ever, and probably not for the foreseeable future. This case is just really suspicious and odd, and I don’t want to bore you with the details.” She looked down at her watch, “In fact, I ought to go to the library now.”

“Well, we could have a library date, y’know?”

“No, hon. This would just be boring. I’d be checking records and navigating Jutefruce Public Library systems. It won’t be fun. It’s… It’s stupid origami crap that I won’t bore you with.”

“Oh.” I said, “Okay.” 

“Besides, don’t you have a physics project to record?” Crap. I forgot to make the bottle rocket before I left. “Get Krispito to record it.” She hugged me one last time, exclaimed “Bye Mrs. Booth!” and left. 

I feel like she’s mad at me.

Chapter IV: Origami Mister Miracle Escapes with Divine Help

By Steven “Origami Mister Miracle” Sue

It has been a long time since I have documented anything. Frankly, my life isn’t worth documenting. I graduated high school, started going to the nearby community college, and I’m planning on going out of state once I’m done with community college to pursue my career dreams. Those career dreams are…

Well, I don’t know. 

I thought they were something when I worked with Doctor Tenebris and friends from home, but that all kind of just fell apart when I decided to quit. Malcolm is an @$$hole! He’s so mean! He disrespected my friend Mitch so many times that I lost track, and it just… no one else can see it, you know? 

But— I managed to escape with important, pertinent information that could help anyone in need, if the time ever arose. Well, that time did.

And no one did anything about it.

Not a single person fought for Kane to return. Everyone just took it, and they all walked away, and, me, a kid nearly a year out from Kane can’t do anything to bring it back. But then I saw a girl in the library and she was looking at pictures of Tenebris. She was writing in another notebook “Man-bun, Yoga Tiktoks, extremely buff”. In that moment, I could see that this person was an investigator, and who else would be better to help in an investigation that Origami Mister Miracle.

I sat across from her. She didn’t look up. I cleared my throat. She didn’t look up. Then I kicked her knee.

“Stop it, creep! I’m not gonna play footsies with you.” 

“Woah, woah, hold on. I don’t like footsies. I just saw that you’re writing a thing about Tenebris. What for? The Jutefruce Gazette?”

“No. The Brando Weekly.” The girl grumbled, “Why? You know him?”

“Know him? Honey, I spent time with him.” That came out wrong. She just stared at me, “I mean. I worked with him. He was a colleague.”

“A colleague…”

“Yeah, I no longer work with him now. He was a horrible, rude person. But I tell you what, I figured out over time the various ways one could stop him. You know he has the Darkseid puppet, right?”

The girl looked at me. She must’ve not been a part of the whole origami thing, “Students have puppets of DC characters, and they—”

“No, no, I know what you’re talking about. So he has the Darkseid puppet. What else?” She wrote that down in the notebook.

“Well, I discovered three things that I like to call ‘Mother’s Three Lunchboxes’, like the Motherboxes. Just to like, keep it under wraps of what they are. If you want to stop him — I can’t, I’m graduated — the three things to do would be…”

“I don’t want to stop him—”

“One: He FOLDS under pressure. Get it? Pretty much, he thinks of himself as this leader figure, right? But if other, more powerful beings, like the government or town-hall were to hear about dissent against him, he’d stop whatever he was doing immediately. He told me that he was gonna close Lampert due to the food poisoning thing, but the town hall denied the request like that.” I slammed my hand against the table. People shushed us. This girl wrote this down.

“Two.” I continued, “The guy records EVERYTHING. Pretty incriminating stuff, too. Every meeting, usually without the permission of the other person. He loves watching them back and laughing. It’s crazy. If you got that, you could submit it to a town-hall and get his butt right out of dodge.” She wrote that down, “and, three: the people that work for him, including me for a time, ALWAYS listen to him. Without fail. So, if you were to go to Stephanie A. Wulf — write that down — Stephanie A. Wulf, Christy Cooke, and Mitch… crap, I don’t remember his last name, and convince them to quit for you, then he won’t have any loyal people to follow him. How about that?”

This girl looked at her paper that she was writing this all down with, “This is… divine help. This is crazy. Wow. Thank you. My name is Penny, what’s yours?”

“Steven Sue. Tell you what, here’s my number.” I took that book and wrote my phone number down.

“Oh, no, I have a boyfriend.”

“I have a girlfriend, too. I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you need help, my relationship status shouldn’t matter.” I slid the book back to her, “If you need any help, do not be shy to call. I hate that guy so much.” Then, I felt a smack on the back of my head.

“What the %&#* are you doing?!” The love of my life, the beautiful, magnificent Rose Kazan asked me.

“I’m giving this girl my phone number.” I say, “I was —” then, I got hit again. Penny laughed, and I knew that somehow, I had to escape this. We left the library, Rose beating on me all the way to the car.

Chapter V: Reflecting

By Chris Booth

The Fortress of Only Dudes only gets more and more crammed as the years go by. I’m sure if Dad was still around, he’d expand the space with me the larger that I’d get. I can’t help it, I miss him.

I think that’s something we don’t really talk about enough, when it comes to losing a loved one. We don’t just miss them when they pass, we miss them everyday. Everyday, it feels like things get a little bit better, but it’s this hole in your heart that’ll never fully heal, and it’ll take forever, and it will never, ever, really do it. It might scab over, but something will come by, and scratch it up.

That weekend trip, and me in the Fortress — that’s what scratching at the scab today.

Sitting on the northern wall of my Fortress is the framed SuPaperMan shield. Dad had folded it for me a long time ago, when I really wanted it, but my small hands couldn’t do the intricate folds. To the left of it is a picture of me and dad fishing, his face is shaped a lot like mine is today. I look more and more like him as the days go on.

I remember on that day, as we fished together, the lesson he gave me.

“Son.” He said, “When you’re fishing, there’s a lesson there that I apply a lot to life. You can cast the reel, you can wait, but the key thing is you cannot back out until you got something to take home for you and your home. I go to work everyday, and I try to come home with money and a story to tell you and Mom. You can’t back out, especially when it comes to helping the people you love.”

I want to help Penny. 

I wish that Dad was here to meet her. I wish Dad was here to give me advice. Sometimes, Penny just gets into these trances with a case, but she’ll at least let me work on my cartoons in the library or clean her room for her while she works. This time, though, she’s actively refusing any help I’m offering to her. I am not going to back out. But I can’t just stand idly by.

I looked back at the SuPaperMan Logo. I took it off of the hook, and I held the frame in my arms. It was one of the only things Dad personally made for me. Now, it had some scruffage from wearing it around school. But it was still there. It felt like Dad was still with me.

I just want to help Penny.

Chapter VI: Date Night, Stress is Right

By Penny Layne

I have heard omens that the Dave and Busters here brings out the worst in couples. It turns people competitive when they weren’t originally, it’s led to breakups in pretty solid places. So, of all places to go, Chris had to choose here

It was already a fairly intense week. That interaction with Steven has made my mind run a hundred miles per hour. Then, following it up, I forgot to write my editorial column for the Brando Weekly, due to the article I was writing. Then, on top of that, I failed a test in Psychology. So, a date night at the accursed Dave and Busters was not, and I don’t think ever could’ve been, the move.

“So… how’s the origami article going?”

“Bad, Chris.” I grumbled. He took a bite of his mozzarella stick.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked. I sighed. He tapped his foot a bit, looking at me, and then around me. “Okay… Well, I went to the Fortress today.” 

“Is that why you stayed home?” I asked, gritting my teeth. That article needed to be written. It would be one of my last I’d get to write for Brando.

“Yeah.” Chris responded. “I needed a mental health day.”


“Babe, this article seems like it’s really bothering you. What is it? Are you trying to solve the Donner Deaths of 72?”

“No. We all know that the ferris wheel malfunctioned. It’s origami stuff, you don’t want to hear it.”

“I do want to hear it.”

“It’s stupid, Chris, that’s all.”

“I want to hear it because it’s by you.” I don’t know why, but this set me off.

My face turned red, and the tears started to form around my eyes, “There’s just no hope anymore.” I said. “We are so hopeless. This guy closed down a school that kept students like, comfortable, and he shakes up the whole thing, and he takes away our hope. Something we all need. And then Twitter is hopeless, and Instagram is hopeless, and I scroll and I scroll, reading these stories, and all I ever need is hope right now. That’s it. Hope. I didn’t want to be involved with this, but Neil Swift showed up while I was dog sitting Krispito—”


“Yeah, and he just wanted to know if you were home, and I sent him away, and he called me the key to you returning or something, and I hate the pressure because I know how happy you were, babe. I know how easy things were. So, I wanted to do it alone. I wanted to figure out how to stop this Superintendent by myself, but I know I can’t. I got this information that could stop him, and I was gonna try to use it alone, but I know that they’re making some sort of team. I just don’t want to rope you or me into any of this stressful crap in the last three weeks of our high school lives.”

“Penny.” Chris’ voice was calming, and I felt the tears drying up. “I love you, and I appreciate all that you’re doing for me, but… maybe you gotta bring that hope, y’know? You said that you have this information that could help… Neil, I guess. Babe, you should bring it to him. Even if you don’t want to do the Origami stuff, you can, y’know, help out without a puppet.”

He was right. I hated that he was right 55% of the time. I sniffled.

“Why don’t we go play some games, and then tomorrow, after school, you can go over to…”

“Alan Wade’s home. Neil made it seem like Alan was the one coordinating all of this.”

“I guess Alan’s home.” Chris shuffled a bit at that, but he knew it was for a greater-good, “But how does that sound?”

“And what will you do?”

“Well, tomorrow I gotta mow the backyard. But I’ll be available on that phone any time you need me, okay?”

I love him.

Chapter VII: The Return

By Chris Booth

After the “fun” date night with Penny (okay, it was actually pretty fun, but I hated seeing her upset, and I really wanted to make it better), I went back to my Fortress. I turned on the lamp inside the little space, and I looked at the photos again. For some reason, SuPaperMan was calling my name. I could feel it within me, that calling.

“There’s just no hope anymore.” Penny’s voice said in my head. Just no hope. I reached for the framed symbol again, and I looked at Dad. My hand moved over to the picture of me and Dad, and I took it out of it’s frame. I don’t know why. I just wanted to look at it again, without the glass barrier. Dad might be gone, but at least I had the symbol and this picture with him. But when I flipped the picture over, I saw a message I hadn’t seen before.


You might not remember it, but on this day, you and me also folded the Superman symbol together. We had such a blast, watching the old movie, folding that symbol, and finishing the day with fishing and then ice cream. Your mom made the best Salmon that night, and it was because YOU caught it. You didn’t back out. Never back out. 

You might claim that you folded this symbol while your old man watched, but I’m telling you, you couldn’t do it without me. Maybe you’ll find this when you’re older, and maybe you’ll have a kid of your own. I’ve put some instructions on how to fold your own Superman symbol in one of those comic books. I’m sure you’ll find it.

I love you to the moon and back,


I had something written by him. His writing, in the flesh. I held it up to me, and I could feel the tears forming, but I knew my task at that moment. I knew I had a job to do. I went over to the box that held some of the comics dad gave me, and I flipped through each and every one of them. From Superman shooting tiny versions of himself to turning the color of the rainbow, these old books meant so much to me and my father. I wasn’t going to back out now. I wasn’t going to give up, no matter how late it got.

Eventually, I found it. It was tucked into Action Comics issue 870. The instructions were crudely drawn, but they were by my dad, and they were clear really only to me. I went back to my house with the picture and the instructions, and I found a piece of Black paper that I had lying around.

So, I started to fold.

There will be hope.



By Penny “Origami Lois Lane” Layne

“Listen, I know this is going to sound bad, and I’m sure you didn’t expect to see me here; the last time you ever saw me, I mean, you were next to your girlfriend and it was freezing cold, and I had my pink unicorn mittens on and how do you not see somebody while living in the same town for years is beyond me, but I—”

He pulled me inside and slammed the door, and I had come face to face with Alan Wade.

“I don’t need any explanation for your backstory, Penny.” He said, “I’m just happy to see you here.” He looked awkwardly at me, looking me up and down, “Where’s Chris?” He asked.

“Oh, he couldn’t come. He was… Well, he doesn’t know anything about this. I got news for you.” Then, I saw her, peeking her head out, “Madalyn?” I asked. Madalyn stepped out, dressed in pajamas. “Hey, miss girl!” She exclaimed. I hugged her, looking at her, and then hugging her again, “Long time no see!”

“I didn’t know you two knew one another.” Alan said.

“We do, we became somewhat close after our boyfriends totally had a meltdown end-of-a-friendship conflict. But it’s been, gosh, a year now?” I said.

“Yeah, if it wasn’t for your paranoid sophomore self, we probably would’ve had a Lois/Catwoman adventure or something by now.” Madalyn mentioned. Alan looked down, and then back at us.

“I’m different now.” He said.

“I know honey, we all know.” 

“Do we?” I questioned. Madalyn snorted, breaking into a laugh.

“Uh… yeah, we do. He saved us all during the whole ‘OriJoker War’. Look at the bruises on his face still…” She cooed, caressing Alan’s face where he had a mark, slightly fading, even months out. “You know, even Theresa Carter is a fan of him now.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Alan said.

“Okay. He wouldn’t say that, but I will. They became best friends.”

“No… She barely recognized Richy— anyways, what’s up, Penny? Here, sit, sit.”

We sat down in the living room of Alan’s old mansion. I had never stepped foot in the place, but everything around it looked new.

“You like it?” He asked, “I totally redid it after Kane closed. There’s still parts that are unfinished, but we’ve been working hard. Danny’s out right now.”

“It’s a lot to take in.” I admitted. 

“You should’ve seen it the other day, when we assembled the new Justice Pleats. Forty two faces, all crammed in this room.”

“I don’t know if it would be crammed.” Madalyn said. “I don’t know, I wasn’t invited.”

“I’ve been trying to keep my Crease Family out of this.” Alan said, “Not because I dislike them, I just don’t want them stressing out about a new bad guy like Tenebris… I guess I’m trusting them so much that I am leaving them out of it.”

Madalyn leaned in to me, “Tell me how that makes sense.”

“I can’t.” I said, “Anyways, I came here to talk about Tenebris, actually.”

“Really?” He asked.

“Yeah, have you guys done anything?”

“No, not at all. We had a meeting where me and Neil said ‘we have nothing’, and then we sent everyone home.” Madalyn giggled, and Alan wrapped his arm around her. It must have been an inside joke or something for this to have happened enough times that they laugh about it.

“Well… I know the motherboxes.” Alan then unwrapped his arm around Madalyn, and looked very stern at me.


“So, like, you know that really crappy Justice League movie had the three motherboxes; one for humans, another for Amazons, and the last was for the Neptunians.”

“Atlantians, but continue.” Alan said, listening intently now.

“Atlantians, right. So basically, a Mister Miracle kid the other day, while I was at the library, approached me. Here’s his number.” I passed him a notecard with Steven’s number and name on it. Alan held it, looking at it, “He told me that, unlike the motherboxes of the movie, which could bring forth the Anti-life equation, the motherboxes of Jutefruce were three aspects of Tenebris that could stop him right in his tracks. He’s made this whole city a living Hell, and we all want Kane back, right?”


“So, as Steven told me, if we just get the clips he’s recorded, do stuff like protesting, and convince his little cabal to go against him, well… y’know, we’d stop him in his tracks. I’m thinking we do all of this stuff, and then we’d go to a town hall meeting, showcase all of this stuff, and we’d succeed, right?”

“Holy %&$* Penny, you’re a genius! Why didn’t I think of these contingencies before?”

“Babe, sometimes you are so focused on the goal, you don’t really see the other stuff around you.” Madalyn joked.

“… Yeah, that’s true.” Alan said. “Let me make some calls.”

Within the hour, multiple cars had lined up outside of the mansion, and everyone had crowded in. Alan brings everyone together. He stood with everyone, and he explained… pretty much what I said.

“Two teams will be responsible for protesting. One will be in the Lampert school, and the other one will be protesting outside of Donner. Another group will be risking themselves and their integrity by talking, and convincing, all of Tenebris’ team to turn against him, to help in exposing him. If you guys are expelled, I will do everything in my power to fix it. Lastly, another one will journey downtown and enter into the building that the Superintendent works in, and they’ll snatch these recordings that apparently exist of the various meetings he has had. We’ll then compile the evidence, all of our accounts, and present it to the Town Hall meeting. Does that sound good with everyone?”
I watched as the entire crowd cheered and celebrated, Chris. I just wish you were there next to Alan to see it all happen.

Anyways, me and Madalyn are back to being friends again! We’re going out to dinner later this week, I’m so excited!

The Beginning of the End

By Meg “Origami Stargirl” Calypso

I look up towards Donner High School, a land that I have gotten to know over the last year now. When I was expelled from Lampert, Donner had swiftly welcomed me with open arms, and I found the place to be my home for the last while now. But my home has filled up; too many people have moved in, setting up residence; it’s too much now. Kane students crowd the halls, and while this wouldn’t be a bad thing normally, it was too many now, and it was filling everyone with anxiety.

“Why don’t we protest in front of the corporate building?” Casey, who held the SuperPaperFoldGirl asked. “We skipped school to stand in front of a school. I mean, I guess I can understand it to an extent, but…”

“Those students must see, Casey. That’s why. We must draw attention to ourselves. They must see that we’re outside, doing something. Here, I made you all signs.” Neil started handing us signs, reading stuff like “No Kane? This isn’t the end of the lane!” and other stupid puns. I had actually brought something myself: my staff.

“You brought a stick?” Derrick Boston, the Shredman, asked. “Why?”

“It’s not a stick, it’s a staff.”

“Oh. That explains it.” Neil Vanderlin, this kid who went by ‘Foldifer Morningpleat’ responded. 

“My dad gave it to me, before he died.” An immediate mood killer, but I continued on, “It was given to him by his father, who got it from his father, now it’s mine.”

“Just a stick, huh… Passed on for generations.” Eren Haynes/ Glue Beetle said with his puppet.

“It isn’t just a stick, dingus.” I said, unsheathing the old blade my great great grandfather used in the first World War. Everyone stared at it as I raised it to the air. 

“Holy crap.” Neil Swift whispered.

“I know.” I smirked. “Who has tape?”

Eren Haynes threw me some packaging tape, and I put the sign onto the sword. My great grandfather’s sabre; one that slaughtered many in the world, in an effort to keep the world right. Now, in my hands, it was in an effort to keep our world; our high school lives; good.

“Let’s just hope it draws attention.” Casey said, smiling at me.

We then started to protest.

Notes for Class

By Jill “HawkGirligami” Truman

He looks so pretty dreaming…

His eyes are closed, and his cute little snores make me want to fall asleep too. They’re not too loud, but you can tell that he is peacefully sleeping, a cute little beast in his dream world. 

I love Jack Guardings. 

I’ve loved him for years, there’s no one better than him; trust me, in the time since our romance story blossomed, many have come, many have gone, and none of them can be better than him. He treats me with respect, he makes me laugh… one time, when I was in Alabama for a cheer tournament, he had also flown down with his family for a “vacation”, just so he could support me. He’s my sunshine, my angel…

But, I’ll admit, his lack of object permanence, heavy sleeping, and all-around stupidity can be a bit much. When I looked outside the window to see a crowd of students in the parking lot chanting things like “Kane should return, Tenebris has burned!” and other really, really, crappy slogans, I nudged him.

“Babe.” I said. He still snored as I looked out there. “Honey.” I said, “There’s people protesting outside.”

“That’s sweet.” He said in his sleep, “The Rainbow city does need better voting rights for all…”

“No, you dumb@$$, I’m saying there’s people, in Jutefruce City, protesting right outside.” Yet he still slept on, mumbling about “Democats” and “RepubliCANS”, which I guess were politicians that were cats and soup cans? So, I hit him.

Didn’t budge. The teacher droned on about ‘graduating’ and ‘college is soon’.  I hit Jack again. This time, it worked. He shot awake.

“Mr. Bombast, I wasn’t sleeping in your class, I swear.” He exclaimed, trying to look as attentive as possible. Mr. Bombast stood up at the front, staring at Jack.

“Okay, Mr. Guardings.” He said, returning to the whiteboard.

“What an a-hole.” Jack grumbled, “Hitting me to wake me up.”

“Yeah.” I said, “Look outside.”

“Are those people… having a flash mob?”

“No, they have their clothes on.” I said. Jack looked at me.

“I know, a flash mob is when people are like, randomly dancing in public. James Corden does it.” Sometimes, I forget that he knows a lot about random things, like James Corden and flash mobs. 

“They’re having a protest.” I told him.

“Oh… Why?”

“They keep talking about wanting Kane back. So… I think that’s it.”

“Good point. You wanna go?” He asked, “Have an impromptu date at a protest?”

“Not much of a date to be fighting for what’s good.” I said.

“I’ll be honest, babe, I don’t know much about why we would protest that.”

“Haven’t you noticed that we’ve gotten locker buddies now? That those former Kane students are just… y’know, hating the place?”

“Yeah!” He mentioned, “I had to totally change the aesthetic for this one kid. It sucked!”

“Okay, babe, that’s why we should protest. They’re unhappy, we’re unhappy, and it would be better for the next year of students.” 

“So we just go and fight so that the next group of kids can be happy while we suffer? I’m fine, babe.”

“If a fight breaks out, you can protect me…” I said, tapping into his enjoyment for ‘saving’ me. He thought for a moment, and then he smiled.

“Heck yeah. Do you have HawkWoPen?”

“I thought about it, and I think Hawkgirligami works better, y’know, like the show.”

“Good point. I have HawkPen.” He said,. Raising his puppet. I raised mine. He put his puppet against mine, making a smoochy sound. “Let’s go!” He said. We ran out of class together while the teacher wasn’t looking. We saw plenty of students leaving classrooms in droves, but some of them didn’t look like they were really, y’know, in the mood to protest. They all had little puppets in their shirt pockets, all looking similar; green and yellow with stupid red goggles on.

Jack had noticed them too, “I might get to protect you…” He said gleefully. I smiled at his joy.

No, No, No, No, No

By Derrick “Shredman” Boston

We all stare at the crowd now amassing outside of Donner, with more and more students approaching. There were familiar faces throughout the crowd; classmates from my four years here that have come out in droves to support the cause. I smiled and looked at the group, “They’re here! Meg’s stupid stick worked!”

“I told you guys it would!” She exclaimed, laughing as she continued her chants. I looked towards Neil Swift, who was looking as stern as ever towards the entrance. When I looked back, I saw them:

A large group of kids, all standing together. They wouldn’t step forward, nor would they really move. I froze, and the chanting started to die down as a police car turned on it’s sirens, pulling in front of us.

The grotesquely large police officer struggled to step out of his vehicle, but as he stood there, adjusting his belt, and putting on his sunglass, I couldn’t help but feel worried. This was the police. I knew I needed to be brave; I needed to stand tall. He took out a megaphone.

“A little bit of exercising first amendment rights, huh?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Neil Vanderlin yelled. We all cheered, but I stared at the growing crowd of kids standing at the entrance, along with this cop.

“I think we’re in danger.” I whispered to Swift.

“Just stand still.” He mumbled.

“This isn’t Jurassic Park, man! Police Officers can still see us if we just ‘stand still.’” Casey exclaimed.

“I know. Just…”

“I think we should attack the police officer.” A jock, holding a Hawkman puppet, said. I glared at him, my eyes widening.

“No, no, let’s not do that.” I said. 

“Not do what?” The cop asked over the megaphone.

“Uh… Flash Mob?” The jock yelled. The police officer stared at us, and then shook his head.

“Listen, while your first amendment rights are protected, your rights as a student are not. I’m Caleb Ackerman, you might’ve heard my name before.” None of us did, “I’m the police chief. Now, Doctor Tenebris had asked me to be on the lookout for insolent students like all of you. If you guys do not go back into school, we’ll… uh…” He glanced back at the group of — as I just noticed — buff students. “Get those kids to beat you guys up.”

“What?” I exclaimed.


Neil Vanderlin threw a Molotov Cocktail (I don’t know he got that), lighting some of the concrete on fire, “You cops are nothing but pieces of crap!” The Foldifer Morningpleat exclaimed, “You arrested me once, I’m never going back!”

“Neil Vanderlin, that was arson! You’re on the wrong side of the law again!” Caleb Ackerman yelled, “It’s a shame I can’t arrest any of you, that’s not what I was told!” He turned to the buff students, and started talking.

“Neil, where the %$&* did you get a molotov cocktail?” Neil Swift asked. 

“The Morningpleat knows his people.” He said. “I got another one, whenever we’re ready.” We all stared at the fire that started to slowly die out. I looked over at Meg.

“You gonna use that sword?” I asked.

“Prolly. Whatchu got?” She said as she removed the sign from the posting. A tall girl leaned in between us.

“Are we going to fight?” She asked, holding up her Hawkgirl puppet.

“Probably.” I mumbled, scared out of my mind. “I don’t have anything.”

“I hope your punches are good!” Meg said.

“Thanks! I’ll remember that.” She then skipped back over to her boyfriend, that jock that said we should beat the cop up. A smile crept across his face, and he cheered, tearing off his sports coat and shirt, throwing them into the fire. 

“Conquest! Protecting my lady! Yes!” He yelled.

“Holy %$&*. We’re going to die.” I said.

The Start of the Battle

By Jack “HawkPen” Guardings

I stared at the students as they held their parademon puppets. I look to my left at this boy, whose black hair looked greasy in the sunshine.

“Are you scared?” I asked.

“No.” He responded, “Just… nervous. But I need to have strong willpower.” He held his puppet up, revealing a Green Lantern character to me, “I have Kyle Rayner, after all.” 

“Then your willpower must be the strongest of us all.” I responded. We continued to watch as the numbers grew, presenting the Parademon puppets to us, raising them in the air. 

“I’m getting antsy.” Some girl with a crappily-drawn starfire puppet said. “I came here from a different county, and I’m—”

“Stay collected.” Another person, holding a blade, whispered.

“Yes, Meg is right. We must not falter; we cannot wane.” Neil Swift (I knew who he was…) told us. He looked at the entire group, “Today, we’ll be victorious.”

“I am so scared right now, it’s not even funny. Your Shakespearean speech is not helping any of us.” Derrick Boston said.

“Fine, then just stand still.”

“There’s more of them, and not many of us, Neil. Are we just supposed to stand here and watch?!” SuperGirl puppet-wielding girl asked. She looked super critical, all around.

“Yeah. That’s what we’re going to do.”

“And that guy is just gonna allow it!” Some guy with a crappy British accent exclaimed. “Cops SUCK!”

“Neil, you can’t lose your cool.” Neil Swift told the… other Neil?

“Doctor Tenebris, and the entire school district and police force of Jutefruce, demand you protestors to stand down.” Caleb Ackerman told us. Jill, who was by me, started to kind of back away. I wrapped Jill around me.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” I told her.

“Promise?” She asked.

“Pinky promise. In fact…” I raised my puppet in the air, the HawkPen. “RAH! RAH! RAH!” I started. Jill giggled, and she started to join in. “RAH! RAH! RAH!” We both said, and then everyone joined in.

“Fine. If that’s how you guys want it… ParaPuppets, charge!” Caleb yelled through his megaphone.

Immediately, the students ran down the hill, their fists and arms raised. It was a sudden power struggle, and Jill yelped behind me.

“Come on, honey, get involved, this reminds me of the locker room!” I exclaimed.

“This is dangerous!” She said.

“Just have some fun!” I responded, pushing a kid down on his face. Jill stared at the kid on the ground, and she kicked him.

“How’d that feel?”

“Weird.” Then, another kid pushed her back. She looked at this Parapuppet; some girl from our third period class, Britney, I think?

“Jill Truman, you should’ve joined us! There was some good money here.”

Jill looked up at Britney, and a frown formed across her face.

“Like I’d ever help you, $&*#@!” She ran directly into her, making Britney fall over. She started to slap at Britney, scratching up her face as she beat Britney up. I smiled and cheered.

“Yeah! Great job, Jill!” I exclaimed. A guy jumped behind me, slapping the top of my head and grabbing my hair, pulling at my mullet.

“Hey, dude! Stop!” I said. 

“You need to just accept that nothing can be changed, pal!” He said. I grabbed hold of his legs, and I fell onto the ground, putting all of my force on him. We crawled away from one another, and I stood up, flexing my arms. He still stayed on the ground, and there was this… weird rage in his eyes.

“You’re making a mistake.” He grunted.

“Okay.” I said, “Is that what he told you to say?” Motioning to Caleb, “Or your boss?”



“Because you picked a fight with me.” So, our fight continued. He tried tackling me, but I fought back, wrapping my arm around him. He struggled to get out of my chokehold, but then he bit my arm. I screamed, letting go of him.

“You dumb@$$.” He said, “Should’ve stayed clothed.”

I ran at him as he quickly took of his jacket, wrapping it around his arms. Somehow, he caught me with the jacket, putting me in a chokehold now.  “Self defense.” He said, “The classes are quite useful, y’know? Now, tell me, HawkPen…” He whispered, “Are you scared now?” I immediately recognized him: Connor Talon. The guy that made me and Jill’s life horrible for a while. I had failed to take him down once before, but Jill somehow managed to stop him.

“No, Connor.” I responded. 

“You should be—”

“I’m not, because my HawkGirl is…” Suddenly: ding! The ring of Jill hitting Connor right in the head with a backpack stunned him, making him let go of me. He fell over, and I breathed heavily, “there.” I then hugged her, sighing. On the one hand, I failed in defeating him again. Then again… she was having fun.

“Where’d you find that backpack, babe?” I asked.

“It was just there!” She exclaimed, giggling, “Come on! Let’s keep fighting!” Gosh, I love her.

I took one last look at Connor. I forgot about him; honestly, everyone did. Now, he was some goon for Superintendent Darkseid. I shook my head, and walked away.

To Start Punching and Kicking 

By Sara “Origami Teen Titans: Fold! Starfire” Walch

The battle had continued, and… to be honest, Richy, I don’t really want to tell you all the details in person. There’s just so many! It would just be going “And he was over there punching and I was doing this and blah!!!”

So, I’m going to keep it short.

Pretty much, the battle was going our way for most of it. Those hawk-people were kicking butt, Casey and Neil Swift were working together, also kicking butt. But… I was kicking butt.

When you texted me asking for help, I forgot to tell you that I had been taking classes in self-defense and jiu jitsu. I didn’t really feel like it was something you wanted to hear; all that was on your mind, it seemed, was that you wanted to get the Teen Titans: Fold! back together, and you wanted me on it. I was so excited, and… wow, I think I proved myself. Not only were my kicks awesome — they were fast, efficient, and STOOKY! 

But… while I wasn’t looking, someone knocked me out! That’s right, Richy, I lost sight of everything! I don’t remember the rest of the fight, I’m sorry.

All Cops Suck Eggs

By Neil “Foldifer Morningpleat” Vanderlin

I know, I know. Lovelies, it is odd to have not one, but two Neils on the same team. That name is so uncommon, and the fact we both got put on the same group? Why, it’s downright nauseating. 

So, I’m sure you all know me by now: I’m Neil Vanderlin, I’m the great, the magnificent Foldifer Morningpleat, and, for the last few months… I’ve been a member of the Justice Pleats Dark. Mainly as their bartender on the go, as there hasn’t been much activity for a while, but we hang out, we play games, we get along pretty well. Derrick Boston is on that team, so it’s nice to see that same old familiar face hiding in the corner.

I’m not that big on confrontation — I know, how odd is that? I was all “King” and stuff during the Kane lockdown, and I love talking to people, but I never try to, you know, confront people. But today? In front of all of those people? In front of a fight Caleb Ackerman orchestrated?


Man… Something sent me over the edge. I think it was seeing the ditzy red hair chick doing Jiu Jitsu get knocked down and knocked out. But, after lighting the asphalt aflame with that Molotov Cocktail, I wandered right up to Caleb Ackerman.

He stared at me, and I stared at him. Then, he decided to ignore me, his mortal enemy. Me and Mr. Ackerman have had many interactions in the past. One time, I threw a rock through his police cruiser. It has been history ever since.

“Look at me.” I said. But he didn’t. I looked out at the carnage occurring right behind us, and I turned back again, looking directly at him now.

“Fine, if you’re not going to look at me, look at the carnage you’ve caused. You’re doing this, you know?”

But he didn’t budge. He didn’t say anything. But I could see it, briefly in the twinge of his cheeks. A sense of regret. A brief, though noticeable, pang of guilt. I, somehow, got through to him. I don’t know how, but I did, if just for a moment. I got through to him.

He slowly raised his hand, and, without looking at me, I came face to face with a pepper spray can, and that pepper spray came out at such a high velocity that the burning sensation was immediate. I cowered back in anger, feeling how much it hurt.

“All cops suck eggs!” I yelled, “Agh!” I was covering my eyes, but the pepper spray was on my skin already, so covering it wasn’t going to do any good. If only I was the actual Lucifer Morningstar, then Pepper Spray wouldn’t be any good on me.

I’m sorry guys, but I had to bow out. The fight might be a lost cause…

The Rise of a New Paper Lantern

By Darren “Kyle Oraynerigami” Hills

I hid behind my car, hearing the kids yell in the courtyard far, far away. This is insane. This is… rage inducing. I saw that kid with the angel puppet get pepper sprayed by that freaking cop! That was the thing that made me run away — I didn’t know it was going to be THIS dangerous. I’m so mad right now. But… I’m not sure who to direct my anger towards. Would it be Derek and Stuart, whose rivalry led to me intervening and all of us becoming friends? Or would it be Alan and Neil, for recruiting us on this? Or… is it this cop and Tenebris, and —

I feel like the answer is obvious. No one else has hurt us, the soul of the student body, as much as Tenebris. For years, he’s been around, hiding in the shadows. My rage goes out to him. I’m so scared, though. Everyone is. I looked at Derrick Boston, shaking in fear over this. Fear… everyone, even me, feels so much fear.

So, Anger, and Fear, and there’s this avarice. This desire to take care of one’s own skin. No one here is a team. This isn’t even really the “Justice Pleats.” It’s a hodgepodge of people, all with different wants and needs, and they’re taking care of their own skin. Even me. I’m sitting here, hiding behind my own car, panicking and looking at my Kyle Rayner puppet. I’m not a hero. I’m… scared.

But… man, I was given Kyle Rayner because of my willpower, my desire to keep bridging people together, to bring enemies in as friends. That was my strongest quality. I’m compassionate, too. We all are. We feel this compassion to fight for what’s right, and while I didn’t experience Kane, I love Jutefruce; this town, these people, I haven’t been here long, but I know that I love it. Compassion, love, both go together.

So… maybe, maybe it’s the Hope, too. The Hope for a better tomorrow, the hope to do what’s right.

The hope that I can be the best person I’m supposed to be.
I stand up, my puppet on my finger, every color of the emotional spectrum feeling within me and around me. I am the first White Paper Lantern. I started to run back into the fight, no longer worried about this, no longer out for myself; it’s out of a need to make the world better for everyone else, even me. It’s because Kyle Rayner would do what was right.

So, we fight.

Why Are You Doing This?!

By Eren “Glue Beetle” Haynes

As the Glue Beetle, I have had my fair share of bullies and hooligans doing some absurd stuff to me, but I’ve never seen a conflict like this before. My brain started to wander as I thought about why they had decided to do this. It was going to make the news tonight, definitely. A walk-out that turned violent, and, most likely, we were going to get the blame for it. So, as the tide turned against our favor more and more, I could feel the pressure on my shoulders, of just doing something important for us.

When the Young Justcrease came under new management, a lot of conflict came through in Discord chats and Minecraft Server drama. We were just a friend group at that point, and we never dealt with anything crazy or important, just kids trying to grief our server. I… have never been punched before, and now I have a black eye forming. I can feel the stinging on my face from the bully who hit me. As he reached up in the air to give another blow, I flinched. He laughed.

“You’re scared now? What, cat got your tongue? So excited to protest and to fight until you get the same punches. Boo Hoo.”

“We… didn’t want to punch people.” I said.

“Then you shouldn’t have brought a sword, or a molotov cocktail… You should’ve just shown up with your hands tied behind your backs.” I looked around, seeing the fighting. Sarah was knocked out, Casey is putting up a good fight, as is Meg. Neil was doing some 1920’s goofy-looking boxing with these awkward looking gloves; it was weird to see the Flex Luthor do that kind of “action”, I guess.

“Why are you doing this?”  I asked the bully. He looked at me, his Parademon puppet sitting in his shirt pocket, “You’re hurting all of us!”

“I was promised free college tuition.” The bully admitted, dropping his whole ‘evil guy’ persona. 

In a weird way, and I hate to say it, I understood.  “I can’t blame you there.” I said.

“Listen, if anyone asks, just say that I beat you up. I have to go home.” He then started to walk away, leaving me, frankly, stunned and confused. And with a black eye.

But, the fight raged on, and Caleb Ackerman, the eyes for Doctor Tenebris, stared at us. High Schoolers fighting for truth, justice, and the academic way.

SuperPaperFoldGirl’s Shining Moment

By Casey “SuperPaperFoldGirl” Rushman

We are getting our butts handed to us, and I don’t know what else we can really do.

No, seriously, I don’t know how we’re even supposed to succeed in this. There’s so much happening around me — I don’t know how I can handle it. I feel the weight on my shoulders, the tummy turning in my chest. And, of all people, I look at Neil Swift.

I’ve heard of Neil Swift before. In what little he talked about with the Justice Pleats, Matt said that Neil was, well, kind of a terrible guy, out to hurt everybody. Then again, Matt said similar stuff about Alan Wade. I guess people can change, but it was so weird to be working side-by-side with the “villain” of Donner High School and the enemy that destroyed the Justice Pleats before it even began.

“What, Rushman?” He asked. Wearing his goofy boxing gloves, he punched a kid right in the face, knocking a tooth out.

“It’s nothing,” I said, pushing a kid back, “I just think we’re getting our butts kicked. Sarah was knocked down, Darren finally joined back into the fight, and Meg had cut a few kids with her however many great-grandfather’s cutlass. But Derrick was cowering in fear, and that weird Hawk-couple were all like… making a weird dance out of the combat. There was like three people to one of us, and while our numbers increased, it was still hurting us. 

“We can’t stand down.” Neil said, “If we do, this was all for nothing.”

“But, why can’t we just, you know, talk it out?”

“You’re pretty good with your punches, why don’t you stick to that before we even consider talking things out with these people?”

“I… Neil, seriously, one of our people got pepper sprayed. This fight isn’t worth it.” Some guy grabbed me, and I screamed for a moment. Neil’s eyes widened, and he started to come towards me. But, I bit on the guy’s arm, and he let go of me. My cousin, Laura, once did this trick on me when my extended family visited while my brother was hospitalized. I grabbed hold of the guy, and, putting all of my strength I had in my arms, I threw him on the ground. He groaned a bit, clearly out for the count.

Then, I blacked out.

Don’t Try Me.

By Neil “SuPaperMan Flex Luthor” Swift

Casey was knocked down by the harsh blow of some crap-wipe still in his jacket. It was a shame, because me and her were getting along, and, frankly, I didn’t want to have to blow up like I was about to. I pushed the kid I was fighting down, and I wandered over to him. He was still staring at his successful defeat, but then he looked up at me. He looked down at my gloves, then his eyes followed back up to my face.

“Who brings boxing gloves to a riot?” He asked. I popped my neck, puffing out my gloves.

“Who wears a sports-coat to a boxing match?” I asked. He didn’t particularly expect the first blow, nor the second, but on the third he grabbed my right arm, twisting it around. My fist still in my glove, I started to hit him with my left hand, repeatedly on the head. Eventually, he loosened the grip, taking a step back. I looked down at the knocked out body of Casey, and I felt the rage boil in my heart. I made a dash at him, pushing him over onto the asphalt. Leaping on top of him, I started to slam my fists into his putrid looking face, over, and over.

I’ve never lost my cool like this before.

I got pretty freaking close when Chris introduced himself as SuPaperMan… but, man… I’ve never lost my cool like this.

Through broken teeth and a bloodied mouth, he asked me to stop, but I just… couldn’t.

Then, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I felt the entire crowd — the entire conflict — come to a complete stop. The kind voice, the one that was grating on my ears for so long, the one that led me to plotting my revenge, the one that led me to this penultimate point where I was fighting for what was right; that kind voice entered my ears, and it felt like it could be heard by everyone in the now silenced crowd.

“Hey, Neil. Let me handle this, okay?”

I looked around; that hawk couple stopped, the jock holding a guy in the air. He dropped the dude, and stared in reverence at whoever was behind me. But I knew. We all knew. I turned around, coming face to face with Chris Booth. On his chest was a black and white version of his ‘S’ symbol.

“You like the new symbol?” He asked. I was so dumbfounded at this, though.

“Yeah.” Was all I could say. I stepped away from the kid, and he kneeled down to check for his pulse.

“Okay, I have this from here.” The SuPaperMan said. “Neil, can you get the people that need medical attention out of here?”

“Uh… Uh— Yeah.” I said. Chris started to approach Caleb Ackerman, and the scrawny, well-mannered boy was back in his special role as the SuPaperMan.

Thank goodness.

A Short Chat

By Chris “SuPaperMan” Booth

I walked up to Mr. Ackerman. Long ago, my father used to have him over for dinner. A fellow man on the police force, he and Mr. Ackerman got along pretty well. Then, the health problems came, and… well, yeah. Long story short, we don’t see Mr. Ackerman anymore.

But he recognized me immediately.

“You have your father’s demeanor.” He said, putting down the megaphone. He held his hand out, and I took it, pulling him in for a hug. 

“How are you doing, old man?” I asked. 

“Fine, fine.” He said, “You keeping them grades up? You gotta be what, a sophomore?”

“A senior, actually. Straight A student.” Mr. Ackerman looked shocked to hear that I was a senior. He chuckled. 

“I’m getting too old. You’ve gotten old, Chrissy!” 

“I know, I’ve changed.” I had to pick my next words carefully, I didn’t want to offend him, “And… well, you have, too.”

“Yeah, I’ve gained a few pounds.”

“No, I’m talking about, you know.” I motioned out to the frozen protest, “This.” He didn’t really say anything, so I continued, “Mr. Ackerman, is allowing what just happened something you want to shine as a part of your legacy as police chief here? You’re supposed to protect the innocent, and the most innocent of them all has to be the children, but you’ve allowed this to happen, this conflict. You’ve… you stand by a man who has closed down a school as opposed to trying to work with it. You wear that badge, you make a promise. You make a promise to everyone that you’re here to protect and to serve, and I can’t help but wonder what you’re even doing here today, because you’re not doing either of those.”

He looked down at his belt. His hand hovered over his pepper spray, “ If you take that pepper spray and spray it in my face, you might as well spray my father’s, too.” 

I could see it in his eyes, the true, honest, genuine regret. He wasn’t looking at me in that moment, he was looking at my Dad. My inspiration to keep going forward, even if he’s not with me today. He was the symbol that was on my chest. He lived in my heart.

“Son of a biscuit, you’re right.” Caleb Ackerman sighed. He picked up the megaphone, holding it to his lips.

“Everybody, look at me.” He said through the megaphone. I stood next to him, looking out on the crowd. Neil was helping these two girls recover, along with a few of the bullies that had joined Mr. Ackerman earlier. He looked at me and he nodded. “This is Chris Booth,” Mr. Ackerman continued, “He’s… One of the best of us. His father was a great man, and, though he’s not around to see it… he’s raised a great son. Now, Chrissy here has helped me see the error of my ways, and I’ll admit: I’m only human, so I make a couple errors, but… I’ve decided that this is not something worth fighting about. In fact, I encourage everyone out here today to stand in support of what’s right. Admit it: we need Kane back.”

Neil’s little group cheered, and, surprisingly, the bullies cheered too. Everyone seemed in agreement of it. 

“So, protest to your heart’s content! Be there for your brothers and sisters in academia now, be the change you want to see in the world!” Mr. Ackerman then looked at me, and he wrapped me in a hug. When he let me go from the sweaty hug, I wandered over to Neil. My former enemy turned… I guess, good, after all.

“Hey.” I said.

“Hey.” He responded.

“So… Penny told me about there being no hope and stuff. And I did a lot of reflecting, and you know her, she’s usually always right in these types of situations. So… I’m here now.”

“Thank you.” Neil silently said. I looked at the puppet in his pocket. I could see the bald head of Lex, but the blue ‘S’ of Superman.

“I’m rubbing off on you!” I said with a smile. He glared at me and rolled his eyes.

“No, you didn’t rub off on me.” He looked out among the entire crowd of people protesting, chanting their little chants, standing up against what was wrong, “You rubbed off on all of them… I told Penny you were the key. Now that door is truly, honestly, unlocked.” He held out his hand, “Welcome to the Justice Pleats, Chrissy.”

I took his hand and shook it, “Thank you, Neil.”


I Wish I Had Green Pesto Sauce

By Kaden “Swamp Pleat” Fahey

The Olive Garden is, in my opinion, really out of my comfort zone.

Being a vegetarian is not a sustainable option when it comes to restaurants, which I know is a crazy weird thing to say, but it’s true. There’s nothing really that one could eat while out and about. Everything is cooked on the same grill as stuff that is cooked with meat, food has touched one another, it’s a whole mess.

Anyways, we were sitting in the lobby of the Olive Garden. CJ stood up front at the host’s desk, waiting to be served, but it was so busy this afternoon. He walked back, feeling the awkwardness of standing at an empty host desk and leaving in defeat.

“Okay guys,” He starts, “I have a lesson for you all. One that isn’t based in arrogance, but rather, kindness. There was a team before this one that failed because they couldn’t work as a team. They were unable to communicate, and nothing came of their meeting with the Superintendent’s cabal. I need everyone to be honest about what they’re doing now as opposed to at the table when we’re talking to those people.” 

Derek raised his hand, “Yeah, what’s the plan?”

“I’m glad you asked, Green Creaser.” CJ was set on using our origami names, “Basically, Flex learned that every week, on this day, Tenebris and his group of supporters and assistants come here and eat a meal.”

“Every week?” Dottie asked. 

“Yes, Huntressigami.”

“I can do this place like once every other month.” Vietch said, “The starches are just, well, too much.”

“Okay Constancrease.” 

“How do you even remember these names, man?” Eric asked.

CJ was getting frustrated. We were all missing the point. I looked around the restaurant, trying to find this secret cabal we were going to confront. “Origami Teen Titans: Go! Beast Boy, it’s just learning what’s in your pocket.”


“Anyways, guys. Tenebris is gone.”

“So the mission is done, right?” Derek asks.

“No, Green Creaser. It’s not. Tenebris isn’t dead, he’s on a tour right now, doing some panel at an international Superintendents convention.”

“Those exist…?” Theresa pondered. I looked at her and shrugged.

“Basically, we’ll go over there after we eat, and we’ll chat them up, whittling them down more and more into seeing just how bad of an idea closing Kane was. They’ll get on our side, and we’ll, I don’t know, we’ll carry on from there… Steven, what are you doing?”

Steven Sue, the Origami Mister Miracle, was typing away on his phone. 

“Are you even listening?” Theresa asked.

“Yeah.” Steven mumbled.

“If you’re texting your Big Barda, man. It can wait.” Ashley joked. 

“I’m not texting my ‘Big Barda’. Don’t be so crass. Her name is Rose.” He then pointed at Ashley, “Besides, you’re the Terra girl, you’re going to betray us, bro.” Ashley rolled her eyes at this, it was simply Steven trying to ignore the subject at hand.

“So you’re nonetheless texting your girlfriend.” I said.

“No.” Steven’s phone made a zoop sound, like sending a message. “I was asking Stephanie Wulf if she’d be down for ten people, some students, to join them on a meal.”

“Oh, okay.” CJ said, not really registering what was just done.

“… What?” Theresa asked. Everyone was looking at Steven now. His phone buzzed.

“Yeah.” He said, “They’re making the table larger now. Come on, guys. It’s ready for us.” He started walking away, and everyone just kind of stared. 

“Uh…” CJ, now understanding what happened, turned around, following Steven. It’s times like these when I wish I could close my eyes and imagine me just flowing through the Green, looking through nature, relaxing before a stressful fight. I haven’t had time for my Matcha tea, and I didn’t get to do my morning meditations, so I am feeling pretty stressed now. I hope they still have Green Pesto pasta.

Awkward Silence is Awkward

By Dottie “Huntress” Nolan

“Son of a %&$*&, they got rid of the pesto sauce…” Kaden groaned. All ten of us (okay, a test for me), Steven, Eric, Jamie (Raven), Kaden, Ashley, Vietch, Derek, Theresa, CJ, and I sat at a weird border across from Stephanie Wulf, Christy Cooke, and some student named Mitch. They’re poking at their salads.

“Would you like some?” Mitch asked Kaden.

“No… Well, is there any meat in there?”

“No. It’s a salad. From Olive Garden.” Mitch said.

“I guess.” Kaden passed his plate over, and Mitch put some salad on the plate. He passed the plate back to Kaden.

“So… about the weather.” Steven sighed. Stephanie Wulf was eating a breadstick, looking at us.

“I got to ask,” Eric started, “Why Steppenwolf? Are you and Tenebris related?”

“No.” Stephanie said, “I’m Steppenwolf because…” She sighed, “It’s a pun. Like, Stephanie Wulf, Steppenwolf.”

“Oh…” He said. He looked at his friend Jamie, “What do you think about that?”

“It’s cool…” Jamie quietly mumbled. These people put my dad out of a job.

That was the thing I was really thinking about at that moment. Stephanie Wulf, Christy Cooke, this senior named Mitch, Tenebris… they put my dad out of a job. He has to work at a factory now because of them. And here I was, sitting across from them, and they were none-the-wiser.

“Alright, I’m just going to be the one to speak up first, I guess.” I said, “Do you know Austin Nolan?” They ignored me. My team looked at me with confusion. Theresa was doing a “Cut it out” hand gesture. But I continued, “He was my dad. He worked for Kane. He’s out of a job.”Christy Cooke looked up at me. I thought “Granny Goodness” was going to say something stupid, like how Dad couldn’t get a hold on his student’s behavior. Instead, she looked over at Ashley. I was speaking to brick walls, but that wouldn’t stop me. “He works at the Factory now, but every night he comes home and tells me that he misses the kids he taught, how he changed lives. Kane had its problems, but it wasn’t the teachers. It wasn’t the students. It was—”

“Ashley Perez. What in the world do you think you’re doing with these insolent kids?” Mrs. Cooke asked Ashley. We all paused; my speech came to an unexpected ending.

“I’m sorry, grandma.” Ashley said, “We just have a pitch that I think you need to hear.” Everyone now looked at Terraigami. I looked at the table now in shock, I couldn’t bring my eyes to the rest of my team. Nepotism. Alan Wade or Neil Swift must’ve known that the Terra girl was Cooke’s granddaughter. Someone had to.

“This is way too much for me.” I said, getting up. Theresa grabbed my arm, pulling me back down in my seat. 

“Calm down, Dottie.” She said, “We just… need to watch the fireworks now.”


By Ashley “Terraigami” Perez

I had joined the Tin Titans a little bit after CJ left the group. They brought me in because I was quirky enough for them; I liked rocks, and they thought that was cool, and so here I am. Terraigami, the rock girl. No, I don’t know of a Deathstroke, nor do I really care about comic book accuracy. I just think the character’s name, Terra, is cool, and my puppet looks like the one from Lego DC Super Villains. I literally don’t care about it.

Grandma Cooke was always really nice to me and other kids when she was a full-time teacher. I mean, she still loves and cares about me, but when she was a full time teacher, she gave everyone that same love and care. Then, she became a sub in her older age, and she came to realize that no one… you know, respected substitute teachers. I heard that she was cruel, y’know, but I didn’t believe anyone. But…

I remember a month or so ago when she was made the new principal of Donner, I had visited her. It was all kind of mysterious and odd; the way that it happened and stuff. She didn’t talk about it much, but she hated being a principal. She gave me a tour of the school during the day, and I saw cramped classrooms, upset students, and it was, all around, not fun to look at.

‘Grandma,’ I said, ‘If you hate being a principal so bad, then why don’t you just quit and go back to substituting?’

She looked at her desk, sighing.

‘I can’t, sweetheart. I’m not allowed to.’

So, now we’re here.

I don’t think anyone knew about this. It was all a surprise to everyone, and I doubt that Alan Wade (Whoever he is) and Neil Swift (whoever he is) know me.

So, yeah.

Oh Crap

By Theresa “Wonder Folder” Carter

We all were looking at Ashley. She awkwardly tapped her foot, not really looking at any of us. 

“I just don’t think this is the right crowd, Ashley. They could be trouble makers.”

“No, grandma. They’re good people. They’re unhappy with how the schools are getting treated right now, and they want change. Believe me, I wouldn’t be helping them if I didn’t believe in what they were doing. I’m doing it for you.”

Watching this back and forth was something to behold, and then the waiter arrived. About a five minute gap happened in which we, having failed to look at our menus, placed orders by just looking down and getting something. I messed up and got Shrimp Alfredo. I have a shellfish allergy. 

“Could I get cups of sauce? For the breadsticks? And extra breadsticks? Also that’s not my main order, I want…” Eric was going to make this bill well over a hundred just on himself alone.

“I just… Honey, I don’t think this is a good thing.”

“You looked like you hated the job, grammy. I don’t want you in an early grave.”

“Sweetheart,” the old woman laughed, “I don’t even want to be in a grave. Cremate me and spread my ashes over the Himalayas.” 


“I’m joking, Ashley. Don’t get all up in a fuss.” She sighed. Even Stephanie Wulf was enthralled by this back and forth. I raised my hand, making everyone look at me.

“We need to talk about our pitch, if that’s okay. Ashley and…” I looked at Dottie, who was staring with rage at the three people, despite the fun conversation that was happening earlier, “Dottie… They got the ball rolling, but we would like to discuss Kane and it’s future, if that’s okay.”

“…Sure.”  Stephanie Wulf said, “I mean, it’s not like we have much of a say. You’re all at our table, after all, and you’re all a lot less… annoying, than the other group.” I remember Steve was a part of that group. Yeah. I’m sure it was annoying.

“Okay then, CJ, do you want to begin?”


By CJ “NightCrease” Whogley

Two speeches in a day? I’m on a roll! 

“Alright, so… I was a former Kane student. I was there for Novick, I was there through all of it. I even helped in stopping both lockdowns. I know, that’s not a good way to start the discussion, but we need to think about why both of these lockdowns happened. They were predicated on tensions and extortion.” 

“What do you mean?” Stephanie asked. She suddenly took this a lot more seriously than before, leaning in towards me. I didn’t know it, but I was accidentally onto something.

“Well, the last lockdown happened because a student forced a principal to put the place on lockdown. Security measures put in place by you all, such as the emergency doors and stuff, were used against us in a line of need. The bullying and stuff had gotten so bad, but it’s not our fault as students.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Mitch said, “The bullies were the ones that led to this lockdown. How is it not their fault?”

“If you guys had considered any other option; giving students more opportunity, helping people achieve their best, heck, giving funding to Kane to help improve conditions, then everything would be better. Heck, getting a stronger willed principal, even.” I hated Principal Sampson. Emily was cool, but he wasn’t. He was always weird. “Anyways, Tenebris’ power has gone to his head, right? Can’t we agree with that?”

Mitch faltered a bit. He noticed the moment that he said “Yes.” That he didn’t mean to actually say it out loud.

“He expelled a group of kids for interrupting your meal. He destroyed a school without even consulting the town first. There’s all these problems with him. You guys all see that too, right?”

“What’s stopping us from expelling all of you? You’re going against what Tenebris told us to do. He’s our boss. We’d listen to him first before we’d listen to you.” 

My trump card. I smile, “Ma’am. If you wanted to expel us. You’d have done it already.”

For the first time since this discussion started, someone smiled: Mrs. Cooke. “He has you there, Wulf. I’m in.”

“What?” Stephanie said, “Just like that?”

“Well, yeah. Plus, it would make my granddaughter happy.”

Ashley smiled, and Cooke nodded. With a third of the cabal on our side, I turned my attention to Mitch.

“Mitch, why’d you decide to help the Superintendent?” 

“It was a nice internship.” Mitch sighed, “It set me up to become a leader of my own county, eventually.”

“But you stood idly by and let this happen?” I asked.

“I guess so, yeah. It made my name known to college boards, and to Donner.”

“You’re a senior, bro. I’d understand if this decision was you as a Freshman. You’d be thought of as the Freshman that brought down Kane. But you’re a senior. You’ll get out of here without a scratch.”

I sighed. The next part of the plan needed to go in effect, “Just think about it. I’m done talking.”

Mitch looked down at his salad, poking a bit at it again. I was making him think. I was making him switch sides.

Constancrease’s Political Campaign

By Vietch “Constancrease” Jimenez

I like to think of myself as a person who can change minds, who can shift world-views, and can make people understand alternative sides. I genuinely think people like to hear what I have to say, and I have stuff to say because I know I’m right.

So, I looked over at Stephanie Wulf. I think CJ’s speech had shifted the mind of that student, and I think having the granddaughter on the team was a smart move, I mean, she’d have no choice but to side with her granddaughter.

But it’s this businesswoman that concerns me. She looks like she’s unwilling to listen, and I feel like she’s immensely set in her ways. Right as I started to speak, Jamie, this quiet-mannered girl next to me, just got up and left. Eric, this person who I guess was her friend, also got up and joined her. We all stared for a moment, and in that moment I took out a candy cigarette and put it in my mouth. 

“Are you smoking?” Steven Sue questioned. I looked over at him, taking the candy cigarette out.

“No, I just need something to help take the edge off. Need one?” I offered my pack, which had Spider-Man on the front. Steven just shook his head. “Okay.” I put the pack away, and I looked back at Stephanie Wulf.

“What?” She asked.

“I’m just… examining you.” She was weirded out by this, and I immediately knew I had messed up somehow, “N-No, not like that. I mean it in the way that you’re a specimen.”

“You are not making this ANY better, Vietch.” Theresa said.

Now I was sweating. Time to just start speaking without thinking, and it’s time to see where that would get me.

“Anyway, the reason I am looking at you is because I know what type of person you are. You have your ideas, you know what you want, you are pretty dead-set on what you want. And what you want is power. You’re proud about that, and you’re really cautious about it. I get it. I’m not exactly the same way, but I have a family that’s like that. A dad that likes power, a brother full of pride. And I’m in the middle, catching all the flack from all angles. Do you know what kind of pride is not bad?” Stephanie shrugged. “School pride.” My anxiety was building. CJ looked at the ground, I could tell that he thought I was screwing this all up.

“The cigarette boy is right.” Desaadigami agreed.

“Yeah. School pride is a part of identity; it’s how we identify one another. You can always recognize a Donner student by the ties and jackets, and you know a Lampert student because of how athletic and strong they look.” I flexed my noodle arms, “And Kane? Kane’s identity was ‘yeah, we don’t have the athletics like Lampert, and we don’t have sports coats like Donner, but we got the merch, we have the spirit. When the Kane Bats play, students fill the sections, regardless of if they’re going to win or lose. Four Kane boys take off their shirts and paint K.A.N.E. on themselves. Going to Kane has to be an identity for students. It’s not the clothes or the muscles there, it’s themselves. In taking that away from the kids, the pride that they had is gone. And that ruins everything. It’s been a logistical nightmare to put students in these places, filling classrooms to the roof with kids who don’t know the teacher and the teacher doesn’t want to know them. Not just is it a logistical nightmare, but it’s a morale one. That pride is gone, Mrs. Wulf. It’s gone, and they deserve to have it back.”

We were all silent. My impassioned, anxiety-driven speech silented the table.

“I agree with him.” Mrs. Cooke said, “I agreed with my granddaughter, but I agree with him too. You’re a fine young gentleman, mister…”

“Vietch. Vietch Jimenez, the Constancrease.”

The lady’s wrinkly old lips formed a smile, “You should run for office one day, Mr. Jimenez.”

“I don’t like political figures.” I said.

“Oh.” She shook her head, “Well, I agree with you. It’s something that elderly people usually say to kids like you.”

“Okay, guys, I’m loving this conversation, but we gotta get back on topic.” CJ said. We all nodded, and we stared at Stephanie Wulf, who was mulling my words over. I was still thinking, however, about Jamie and Eric.

I’m Not Supposed to be Here.

By Jamie “Origami Teen Titans: Fold! Raven” Strong

I’m sorry, but I had to get up and leave. This whole thing was getting super intense, and I couldn’t stop staring at that businesswoman. She looked so mean, and so hard to get through. I just can’t. I can’t do that stuff. Eric could see me freaking out, but no one else did. I’m the Teen Titans Go Raven. I’m supposed to be facing silly stuff, like Pizza thieves and stupid bullies. Not a person who helped in destroying a school.

This whole thing was supposed to be some sort of escape from the crap. But after Richy’s thing… and with us starting high school, it feels like nothing can be “good” anymore. Nothing can be simple, or naive, and I don’t think anyone else on the team gets that stress of getting older but me. I’m so sorry, CJ. I am not worthy to be a member of the Justice Pleats.

I’m so sorry.

My Side of the Story

By Derek “The Green Creaser” Clarke

CJ nodded at me, so I continued to bounce off from what Vietch had said, “The idea that every kid was a problem child at Kane is also insane. That was not a part of the identity of the student-corps there. While there were kids that people considered problems or whatever, people always consistently learned from their mistakes. There was no such thing as ‘bad kids.’” I leaned in, “Mrs. Wulf, do I look like a problem?”

She eyed me up and down, and then she slowly shook her head. 

“I was. I went to Donner, and I constantly picked a fight with my friend, Stuart. A guy who didn’t deserve my anger. It led to fires, bullying, and other people that were just pieces of work. And that was at Donner. Does that mean that Donner should close down?” Again, she shook her head, “Then why would Kane close down for the same reason? Donner had me, Doomsclay, Flex Luthor, all of these ‘bad people’ but Tenebris, with your allyship, would close down Donner for the same reason. I mean, crap, Lampert objectively had the most ‘problem children’ but THAT’s not closed.”

“Like who?” Stephanie asked.

“You should know. You’ve met a few before.” I said. We had all heard the legends of that Shredder Squad, how a group of villain students were fighting the school in their own way, forced to do it by certain teachers, but we all just chose to think of it as rumors. Nonetheless, rumors have to have some basis in reality, right? She looked at me, and I could see that she was thinking about it, and she did agree with me. Inside, it kind of confirmed my own beliefs. Just like in my spouts with Stuart, it felt good to be right once again. Once again, she sat back, and she was mulling it all over. 

“Come on, Stephanie. They’re right. Don’t you see it?” Mitch asked. Me and Mitch had a few classes together, and I had never seen him get this upset.

Stephanie started to open her mouth, but then she closed it. Our food was here.

Waiting on a Ghost

By Eric “Origami Teen Titans: Fold! Beast Boy” Brawnly

I stood outside of the Women’s Restroom in the Olive Garden. Have you guys ever noticed that Olive Garden’s logo has grapes? Like, they look exactly like grapes. It’s so weird. I think that grapes are cool, but I wouldn’t think of grapes as olives.

Perhaps those are olives. Do Purple Olives exist? Why? Why would Purple Olives be made? How different are they in taste?

Does Olive Garden even have olives in their recipes? I… 


Jamie finally exited the bathroom, and her usually pale face was now red, and her eyes were similarly colored. She jumped a bit when she saw me, and then she looked away. “Hey, Eric.” She said.

“Hey, Jamie.”

“I’m sorry, I really needed to go to the restroom. That’s it.” She lied. I could always tell when she was lying. She would look away from me. Me and Jamie were close, but she won’t admit that.

“You can be honest with me, Jam.” I said. She looked back up at me, and I could see the tears in her eyes.

“It’s just so stressful, Eric.” She said, “It’s so freaking stressful. I miss the days when we would face a kid and get a quarter for a pizza. It’s… it’s crazy now. It’s just too tough.” 

I grabbed her shoulders. She probably thought we wouldn’t get it, but I did. I smiled, “I understand.” I said.

“Do you really?”

“Well, the least I can do is sympathize with you. I know this transition into High School has not been fun for you, and now that we’re Juniors… We’re dealing with a ton of stuff. I don’t want you stressed out about it, but I know that is easier said than done. Sometimes, I wish I could become a bird and fly away, but we both know we can’t do that.”

She laughed, “Not only is it scientifically impossible, but you can’t avoid responsibility.” She said. 

“Exactly. I tell you what,” I looked back at the table; it was almost impossible to miss, a group of underdressed kids across some adults in suits. “Our food is there. Why don’t you eat your meal, I’ll have my alfredo, and we can share some stuff. Just to get your mind off of it.” For a moment, she looked like she was going to cry again. I wrapped her into a hug, and she sighed a sigh of relief. We came back to the table, and the meeting continued.

Origami Mister Miracle Helps Steppenwolfigami Escape the Struggle

By Steven “Origami Mister Miracle” Sue

“I don’t know what more I can possibly say, Mrs. Wulf.” I sighed in between bites of my Tour of Italy, “I mean, crap. We’ve said all we could. I’ve known you for a while. You’ve always been this headstrong.”

She put down her fork, and she looked at me. “Steven, we agreed to meet with you guys because we had started to trust you. We worked with you. We got you into the best college in the state, and now you’re here, betraying all of us with this.”

“I’ve seen how Tenebris treats you guys. He doesn’t like you guys. He doesn’t even trust you all. I mean, crap, Mitch and Cooke know that. Why are you so stagnant with this?”

“I’m ‘stagnant’ because that man was the guy that helped me out of a bad place. He was the one that took me in when I needed someone to take me in the most. He is like my brother. He… he was the only one that cared.” She looked at everyone else, especially her now-former colleagues, “He took all of us in. Mitch, you were hated. No kid respected you. Cooke, no one wanted to give you the time of day. You were a teacher before being forced to become  a substitute. Guys. You’re going to believe these kids with their little speeches before believing the person that took us in?” 

Mrs. Cooke pointed at her granddaughter, “That is my grandkid. Regardless of if we know it, our next generation knows more than us about what they want. Think about your daughter.”

“If he didn’t solve an anti-student life equation, he could’ve figured out a student-life equation that would make this city, and the hundreds of kids going to school here, into fine, wonderful people.” I claimed. Stephanie still looked at the table. She looked like she was fighting something inside her.

“So, what do you think?” I asked. All ten of us looked at her.

“… Fine.” She grumbled, “But what do you need us to do?”

That was when CJ stepped in, “We need you guys to all quit. Now. You guys will get new positions or whatever once he is out of the position. I can promise you guys that much.” They all shifted a bit in their seats, looking uncomfortable. “And, we have some people standing outside of the corporate office. We need their qualifications to enter and get the audio recordings that Tenebris.”

Stephanie took out her phone, calling the front desk. “Hey Suzie,” She said, putting on a higher, kinder voice than the one we were all hearing, “Yeah, I’m doing fine. Listen, there’s going to be some kids coming in. I gave them permission to explore the buildings. Yeah, just to see what a office-space would be like for people in education. Career fair stuff. Yeah, just let them in. Got it? Wonderful, thank you. Yep. Yuhuh. Umm… Hm. Oh, sorry to hear that. Yeah. Have a good one! Bye!” She ended the call, “Suzie’s kid apparently threw up all over her dress. I didn’t want to hear all about it. Anyways, let’s eat. I guess.” She still looked unsure, but I mouthed “Thank you.” To her. Another part of this mission was complete!


Entering the Unfamiliar Familiar

By Richy “The Red Hoodie” Wickinni

There was a time where this place was a place I used to enact my hatred. A long, long time ago, I decided to pick a cruel, horrible fight with all of my old friends, the Teen Titans: Fold!, and I vowed to destroy all of them, including the annoying, somewhat stinky, kid standing next to me: Jonathan Yen. 

I had heard a little bit about him before I tried destroying my old team. He had fought a nine year old kid, he took down some other kid who is now about as weird as him, all-the-while he was on the Young Justcrease for a bit. Then he became the leader of the Teen Titans: Fold!, then those teams merged? Then they split apart, again, kind of. It’s weird. During that weird time, though, Jonathan Yen struck out on his own, becoming the “Superior Fold”, as his cousin was away. Then he was the Reverse Fold. Now he’s…

He’s just the Fold, I guess.

But he’s still super annoying, and now he’s pretty stinky. In a new way. He’s wearing Axe.

As I looked around Lampert High School, Jonathan kept giving me side-glances.

“What?” I finally asked. He snapped out of his trance.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He said. “Bet you have some bad memories of this place, huh?”

Looking through the quiet halls (it was only quiet because everyone else was in class), I nodded. They were familiar, but they were not my home. Kane was. Kane should still be my home. “Yeah.” I said, “Pretty bad memories here, I guess.”

“When you were a bad guy.” Jonathan said, as though I didn’t know myself.

“Two can play at that game.” I responded. That shut him up.

A girl in a cowboy hat walked up next to us. She straightened it on her head and looked down at her phone. “Jess made it with Team D.” She said, looking at me. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were Alan.”

“Nope.” I responded, “Richy Wickinni.”

“Maria Ramirez. The Jinnigami Hex.” So there was a cowboy on our team. Cool. She walked up to Alan and told him the same thing. I could barely hear the whispers, but I heard “Okay.” Then he looked at JC Russell, who was awkwardly standing by his side. He whispered something to him, and JC took a firm stance.

“OKAY!” He exclaimed, “Listen up!” 

Alan stepped forward, and we all kind of stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the hallway. The team was me, Jonathan Yen, David Franklin (Martian Manshredder, apparently), Maria Ramirez, Taylor Cole (Origami Hour Man), Alex Ledger (Doctor Plate), Percival Miller (Origami Captain Cold), and, of course, JC Russell and Alan Wade.

“Our job is simple. Over at Donner right now, a protest is happening right outside the building. Right now? We’re going to bring a protest inside.” Everyone was nodding with Alan, “And I know it might sound insane of me to say this, but I don’t know how. So, we’re just going to do whatever we think might be most effective to bring attention to ourselves. Get the students out of the classrooms, demand for Kane to return. We have got to be the change we want to see in the world.” Percy smiled, putting on his Captain Cold goggles. He looked at me.

“My girlfriend made it.” He said. I couldn’t tell if it was him saying it with excitement, or if it was just… a statement of fact.

“Everyone got it?” Alan asked. David Franklin raised his hand, but JC started whooping, hollering, and clapping. Everyone starts to split up in groups, and I’m still standing there. David didn’t get his question answered, because now the excitement was far too high. Alan walked up to me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Richy. I know that this place feels weird for you.” He said, “But you need to be headstrong. I couldn’t have fought the OriJokers without you, y’know? Remember that.” He pat me on the back and walked over to Jonathan. He looked over at me, “Come on. We got a mission to do.” David Franklin was lingering. “Manshredder, what is it?”

“I just don’t know where to go.” David sighed.

“Then come with us.” Alan responded. He looked at me. Yeah, I don’t know how he ended up in the Puppet Society either. I don’t know why he’d think the Red Hoodie would know anything.

Whooping, Hollerin’

By JC “Aquapleat” Russell

After the whole Shredder Squad thing, I’ve become very nonchalant. That’s what y’all wanted me to do, right? Not Give a Fold? Lampert was a place that I tried considering “home.” I had placed my heart into it, I navigated the halls and chatted with the people, I had a girlfriend. Objectively, I should’ve had everything. But I didn’t friends until I was on that squad, and then the squad ended, so I don’t have anything at Lampert. I mean, crap, I was expelled. It was worth it, but in that expulsion I was finally free.

I shouldn’t have even been allowed in here. So, I walk down the familiar halls, clapping, chanting. And I remember.

Lampert’s Swim Master. Me. Every meet, I’d stand at the front, surrounded by my comrades, and I’d start to slowly clap. My hands, in the hallway now, start doing the same thing. Then I’d do a stomp. And another stomp.

“Lampert…” I’d start singing our alma mater. The other swim members would join in, “Land of the strong…” And we’d start heavily stomping our feet. Left foot, right foot, and someone would go “WHO WHO HOOP!” Over and over.
I start singing it now, “Lampert / Land of the Strong / Always Alert / Making warriors / Working out all day long / Lampert / Each and every one / Represents our school / ‘Till we’re done.”  Alex, this person who reluctantly followed me, put a plate over their face. It was yellow and shaped like, I guess, a helmet.

“What?” They asked me.

“Nothing. Come on, sing.” 

“But what about the principal?” Alex asked. They were looking frantically around. “Or a teacher?”

“Come on, Alex, don’t you know our school?” I asked, “We all like one thing here, and one thing only. Besides,” I smiled, “The principal that expelled me isn’t here. In fact… no principal is here at all.” Theresa had texted me earlier about sitting down for Olive Garden with them.

Some kids started leaving, dashing through the doors. I continued my singing. They started too “WHO WHO HOOP!” over and over again. Others were singing the alma mater with me. Percival Miller walked up next to me, he was dead silent.

“Where’d you come from?” I asked.

“I was here the whole time…” He mumbled.

“Okay. Look at what I did.”

“I see it, JC.”

“Isn’t it cool?”

“I guess.”

It’s not my home. But man. The king of their pool was back. There’s no “I” in “team,” but there’s definitely an “I” in “Movemint,” which I started. The Aquapleat was back.


By Maria “Jinnigami Hex” Ramirez

As me and Taylor, this… Hourman, I guess, walking through the hallway, I am getting more and more annoyed with this whole thing. What I should be doing is be with Jessie. I shouldn’t be here. Or I should be helping dad with some rich guy’s moving. I should be doing ANYTHING besides standing in a hallway.

“So, you’re single?” Taylor asked me.

“Oh my God, girl.” I said. “No.”

“Are you texting your boyfriend?” She asked. I gritted my teeth.


“You’re texting other guysssss…” 

“Bro.” I turned to her, “You’re a senior, asking me, a Junior, these stupid questions that, frankly, you don’t want any of the answers to because you know don’t care. We have a job to do. I don’t know what it is, the instructions were unclear, but we both have a job that we got to do and I don’t want to deal with a drama hog.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I’m nothing like a pig.” She said, “I go to the gym daily.” I looked back at my phone, to Jessie saying “This layout makes no sense. What kind of Superintendent needs a corporate office with people working in cubicles? Lol”

“Let me see!” Taylor exclaimed. I raised my phone in the air, and Taylor couldn’t reach it. She was jumping.

“If this is how we’re going to get attention,” I said, “I don’t think it’s going to work.”

Taylor sighed, and she stopped. “I’m sorry. I get going at a million miles per minute and I just don’t know when to breathe. I get all caught up in what I’m doing that I just don’t think.”

“You have an hour to do everything.” I said. “I mean, you wield Hourman, right?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, again. Seriously.”

I guess we were talking a bit too loud in the hall, as students started leaving, and the bell hasn’t rung yet. They all looked at me and Taylor.

“Hey.” I said, “Sorry, we’ll be quiet.” Lampert was weird. I mean, I had been going there since my first year. Viruses, Pleatsters, Kid Fold… It was all weird. But it was never this weird. All the kids were quiet. It was like they were faceless beings, they didn’t really say anything. They didn’t really do anything. They just stared.

“Say…” Taylor started, “Are you guys interested in protesting? For Kane’s return?”

“We have scholarships at stake.” One finally said. So they weren’t androids. “Money. Good money. No.”

“What?” I asked, “Scholarships at stake if Kane returns?”

“No, we… like, we were paid off. To stop people like you.” And they were annoyed. “So just, stop protesting, and leave.” 

“Okay.” Taylor said, turning around and walking away. I paused, and looked back at Taylor.

“Taylor.” I demanded, “You’re running away?”

“No, I’m walking away.” 


“Because there’s like, seven of them and two of us. Nothing is worth getting hurt over.”

“I mean, I agree with you, but—” Then they started to approach us. I could feel my heartbeat against my chest. I wasn’t normally scared; frankly, I never have been, but their weirdness, the way they acted, the way they approached us. I made a dash for it. Taylor followed suit.

The Stresses of Thievery

By David “Martian Manshredder” Franklin

“David, you guard the door.” Alan told me. He, Richy, and Jonathan stepped inside, leaving me out there.

“But what about —”

“Dude, you’re the Martian Manshredder.” Richy said, “There won’t be a fire.”

“I’m not scared of fire, like the puppet of mine would be.”

“I know, I’m just—” Richy shook his head, “Nevermind.”

“No, tell me.”

“No, I just… I was trying to make a joke, okay?” Richy said, “I know we’re nothing like our puppets.”
“Your brashness signifies to me, at the very least, that you have something in common with the Red Hood. I love comic books.”

Richy shook his head and closed the door. I heard footsteps down the hallway, and I stood in front of the door, my arms crossed over one another. 

“We gotta find anything that Stephanie Wulf might have in relation to Tenebris.” Alan said through the door. I could hear him. “We also need to find the recordings so that we can tell Team D—” He faltered off, or I just couldn’t hear him anymore as I looked down the hall to two girls screaming.

“RUN!” One of them said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because we said so!” The other one responded. “I think this is my last hour alive!”

“That’s scary.” I said, “I’m not leaving this spot.”

“Fine!” They rounded the corner, and I looked down the hall. Suddenly, the lights cut out. And the footsteps grew louder.

Alan dragged me inside before I could see anymore.

“I told you to stand guard!” He yelled.

“I was. But something was coming.”

“Look, Alan.” Richy said, twisting a lock on the doorknob, “It locks.” Alan was dead silent. We all looked around.

“Okay.” He said, “Four people. A couple drawers. Carry on.” He started opening files, looking through anything as he had his phone in his mouth. I kept looking out through the foggy door, trying to see through the darkness.

I am not scared of fire.

I am scared of the unknown.

The Dread Before the Storm

A Poetry Collection by Alex “Doctor Plate” Ledger, documenting the various thoughts they had during this encounter.

People cheer, they holler and praise

Yet I am here, and I remain

Still the same

If I woke up today from a dream

I feel it would be through my screams

I do not wish to know, the shadows or the doubt

But things are getting crazy, and I know what it is about.


JC Russel

A crowd

Percival Miller

A Crowd




Puppets fly in the air

Attacks from everywhere

I scream, I’m afraid, I require friends

I require magic tricks to make this end

Tenebris’ goons

Kids too

Why, oh why?

Everyone Deserves a Chance.

By Alan “Batfold” Wade

Jonathan Yen was fumbling through Principal Wulf’s desk. I looked at him, and he looked at me.

“What?” He asked. I had heard the stories.

I had the stories.

I mean, of course I would. Everyone would. They were posted to the Folder’s Connection. It was easy to hear the stories from kids like Microwave, who’s butchered writing style made it hard to read. Tales of the Reverse Fold beating kids up when Matthew Yen would never, how the Star Quarterback, Simon Quigley, was suddenly cornered and beaten up by Jonathan (Usually typed “Jonathon” to make him unable to find the stories about him). When a site is made, dedicated to telling the stories of the worst-of-the-worst, it’s hard not to come across them.

He was Kid Fold. Then he was the Superior Fold. Then he was the Reverse Fold. Now he was… the Fold.

He had changed so much from the kid that CJ introduced me to in my Sophomore year. He evolved. He grew. He became worse, then he became better. Still, the occasional Folders Connection story about “The ‘Superior’ Fold” almost threatening a kid was still around. He didn’t really look good.

“You know…” I said, “This is a good chance for you to redeem yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Jonathan asked me. He was making a mess of the desk, something I didn’t want, but it wasn’t something I could stop now.

“Jonathan, have you noticed your reputation?” I asked. He was staring at me, his hands posed on the table. “It’s not good. People still view you as, you know… Bad.”

“They do?” Jonathan kind of paused for a moment, shocked at what I was telling him. “But I’ve stopped, y’know. Punching, kicking.” 

“That’s the thing, you’re still known for doing that. It’s why I invited you to help me.” I said. I motioned at the principal’s chair, Jonathan looked at it. “Take a seat. Make an announcement. You can fix all of this.” He was shocked with the permission I had given him, frozen solid. “Have fun.” 

Jonathan took a seat in the chair, and he smiled at me. As he looked around the desk, I opened a drawer, and I found a folder.

Inside, the folder contained printed pictures of text exchanges. Just a back and forth between Stephanie and Tenebris. It was really, really boring. Until I saw the text of “Yeah, I got that video of Desaadigami on a VHS tape in my office. It’s freaking hilarious. And he cleans that spot all the time! Totally ignores the collection I have. All those recordings, but that one is my favorite. The look of pure sadness on his face. Priceless! Lol”

I took a picture and texted it to Matt. All he said was “Thx”, followed by “How’s Jonathan?”

I looked over at Jonathan as he opened a drawer, taking a piece of paper out and making creases.

“He’s having fun, I think.” I said.

“Cool. Don’t let him get too wild.” 

“K.” I texted back, knowing I was lying. Let the kid have his fun, I say.

Chapter 7: Alarming

By Percival “Origami Captain Cold” Miller

Matthew Yen will never believe this.

As a horde of students congregated in the hallways, me — the Origami Captain Cold — Jamsey Cargile, the scorned Aquapleat, and… I guess someone named Doctor Plate, I still haven’t quite gotten their name, and they’ve never called in a favor from me, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, looking at the horde. 

“Did I ever call in my favor with you, JC?” I asked.

“No.” JC sighed.

“I know.” I responded, “I keep a record, I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Makes sense that Percival Miller would have a record of all the people he’s scammed.” We did not look at each other throughout this exchange.

“Guys… What are we going to do?” Doctor Plate asked us. The horde stood still, staring at us. 

“What was the favor for again?” I asked Jamsey.

“Prank Hannah for a full day so that I could celebrate our anniversary.”


“But she had called in a favor from you to give me papers saying that we were broken up.”


“But you pranked her. Like, a lot.”


“So… I guess I still owe you a favor.”

“Bingo.” I responded. JC sighed. 

“Which you’re going to cash in on at the most inopportune time imaginable, I figure.”

“You’re wrong about that, Jamsey Cargile.” I smiled at him, his face meeting mine, “I’d say that this time is rather… opportune. I need you to go and pull the fire alarm.”

Jamsey Cargile was now glaring, his eyes wide open. “What?” When he only got a smile for a response, he pulled the fire alarm down, the sirens blaring throughout the school, and the sprinklers immediately kicking in. Doctor Plate screeched.

Now, we were all getting soaked, and the horde was approaching us. For some reason, I thought that that would stop them.

“Do you have an Ice gun?” Jamsey asked.

“No.” I wasn’t sure if his stupidity was a sham or what. 

“Oh. Okay.”

The kids are still walking towards us. We’re staring straight on. No magic, no flight, no superspeed. Just students against students. Lampert High School was weird, but that was why I loved it.

“I wish I had one, actually. That would be pretty cool.” I finally said. The sprinklers rained down upon us, and I dreaded the fight to come.

Jonathan Yen Sits in the Principal’s Chair and All Hell Breaks Loose

By Jonathan “The Fold” Yen

“Jonathan, we can leave now. Our work here is done.” Alan told me. I was still coloring the puppet, the fire alarm blaring through my eardrums. “Dude, we gotta leave. Fire Trucks will be here any minute now.” 

“I’m almost done.”

“Why isn’t there a sprinkler system in here?” Richy asked, looking around.

“Perhaps it’s a captain going down with the ship type of thing.” David suggested. Nonetheless, I was still focused on making this my best. I took the black sharpie, drawing a circle on the Wally West Fold’s blue helmet. Finally, I placed him on my finger. Everyone looked.

“What?” Alan asked.

“I’m Mobius Chair Wally West. Principal Chair Jonathan Yen!” I exclaimed, my smile wide. “Take a picture for Matt!”

Alan sighed, taking out his phone. I struck a pose, showing off my finger puppet. I then placed it into my pocket for safe-keeping. “Now it’s time for real fun.” I said. 

THAT wasn’t your fun?” Richy asked.

“No.” I pressed the red button on the table, “This is.” We all heard the intercom go off. I leaned in towards a mic on the desk, “Attention students of Lampert High School, this is your other fold speaking, the one you so lovingly referred to as the Reverse Fold, or the Weaker Fold. For the last few months, Doctor Tenebris’ reign has been annoying! It has made everything terrible! REBEL! RAGE! If you’re a Kane student trapped here, FIGHT BACK! RUN THROUGH THE HALLS AND CHEER! Okay, thank you, bye.” I then leaned out from the microphone, standing up. Alan stared at me.

“What was that?!” He exclaimed.

“A distraction.”

Alan thought for a moment, nodding his head and mulling this over, “I guess it’s smart. You might actually be pretty good, kid. Let’s go!”

We all started to run out of Lampert, and I got to see the fruits of my labor. Through the sprinklers, all of the people on the team were running together, along with a large group of students. Alan was running, his phone up to his mouth.

“PULL UP NOW!” He exclaimed into the microphone. I was looking behind me, and I could see the entire student-body, along with some teachers, just taking their time inside, getting soaked to oblivion from the rain. I, typical of the Fold, made a mad dash out of the building. When we were all out (including Maria, Taylor, JC, Alex, and Percy), a van pulled up in front of us. Alan opened the door as fast as possible, exclaiming “Get in!”

We jumped inside, Alan taking the front seat. A ton of students walked out and stared at us. They had puppets with yellow and red eyes.

“Parapuppets.” David mumbled.

“Thank you, Danny.” Alan said to Mr. Whogley, who was speeding off.

“I don’t know what you’ve done, Alan, but I better not hear that you broke any laws.”

“I mean, we did.” Alan confessed, “A false alarm for fire is probably a felony.”

“It’s just a prank, bro.” JC mumbled. I laughed.

Alan looked out the window, and we could see Donner up in the distance. It looked… oddly quiet.

“I guess, if all is going to plan…” Alan looked at his phone, and he was dead silent for a moment. No movement in the car except for Mr. Whogley’s speedy driving.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Alan, did something happen with CJ?” Richy immediately asked.

“No.” He said. “Chris Booth has come back. As SuPaperMan.” He turned around and looked at all of us. “There’s hope.”

There was a slight celebration in the car, all of us cheering and smiling. This Justice Pleats team ROCKED.


We’ve Been Looking in the Wrong Place?!

By Matthew “The Fold” Yen

“Son of a gun…” I mumbled. Stuart was looking underneath a cubicle desk, making weird grunting noises as he felt around for a potential secret hatch or something.

“What is it?” He asked. Despite touching the bottom of the desk, he still bumped his head on the top, and he rubbed his scalp, silently cursing under his breath.

“We’ve been looking in the wrong place.” I said. Stuart stared at me.


“Yeah. We’ve just… the actual office is a floor above us.”

“For real? But that lady just let us in.” Stuart was misremembering.

The lady did not just “let us in”. She was looking away, and we snuck by. I feel like he was lying to himself. Stuart crawled out from under the desk.

“Okay guys, you guys can get out now.”

“Is their lunch time over?” Megan Franklin asked. I shook my head. Charlie Swift crawled out from his cubicle that Megan was watching over.

“No. We’re on the wrong floor.” I sighed.

“Seriously?!” Charlie exclaimed.

“Yeah guys, I’m sorry. I didn’t know until the Olive Garden crew texted me.” I pointed at my phone. “It’s the thirteenth floor. We’re on the sixth.”

“I guess the highest floor makes the most sense.” Andrew, the Beast Boy, sighed. 

“Yeah…” Dayvon grumbled, “I was hoping we could wrap this up soon. It’s bulk season. I’m craving pizza.”

“Pizza NEEDS to be on the menu, guys.” Andrew mentioned, “Pizza goes CRAZY.”

I sighed. I took out the vouchers that Alan gave us for a free meal, any price, from Citizen Wade’s Soup and Meats.

“I’m sorry, y’all. We’re eating at Citizen Wade’s. We got vouchers and everything.”

“Seriously?!” Dayvon exclaimed, “Their soup needs more salt, man.” 

“I mean, I agree with you, but we have to focus on the task at hand. Everyone — head to the elevator!” I said. We all just kind of stood still, looking at one another. I motioned again to the elevator. “To the elevator!” I repeated. I immediately felt icky that I was chosen as the impromptu leader of this team.

“Okay, guys.” Stuart said, “Here’s what I’m thinking: we could have a much more quiet approach if we just take the stairs.” If the Citizen Wade’s comment didn’t make everyone groan, that certainly did. 

“No %&$*ing way am I climbing stairs, Green Paper Lantern.” Walter Gilligan said. I hated that guy; last time I saw him he only called people by his puppets in this weird way.

“I agree with Walter.” Jessie said. “There is no way I am climbing stairs.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a girl scout or something?” Stuart asked, “I mean, stair climbing should come naturally to you.”

“There’s no ‘stair climbing’ badge, dude.” Jessie jeered. 

“Okay. Guys. Seriously, let’s just take the elevator. It’s such a simple solution and there is no need to try and debate that, okay?” I asked. 

So, we ended up in the elevator.

For some reason, time stood still. Me, Stuart, Dayvon, Vanessa, Andrew, Walter, Eleanor, Selena, Megan, Charlie, and Jessie Bennet all stood shoulder to shoulder. Walter kept mumbling to himself “Please no businessmen. Please no businessmen.”

After breaking my leg, the feeling of going up in an elevator feels really weird. Sometimes, the experience of going up an elevator feels like my leg is disconnecting itself. I felt similarly on the flight to china. The further up I get, the more this weird, shadowy pain comes forward. 

“Walter, what… uh… what happened to you?” I asked. It was the first time me and him talked, even though we were on this journey and I drove him around.

“Stuff, Matthew. A lot of stuff.” 

“Right but it feels like your whole… y’know, thing, has changed. You seemed like you had a good head on your shoulders.”

“Matthew, can’t we just ride this elevator in peace?” He demanded. I shrugged, and we continued to ride up. Stuart looked at me. Then he opened his phone. The sounds of him typing echoed through my ears. Then, my phone buzzed.

“Bruh this dude used to be a member of our team.” Stuart texted me.

“IKR. I mean, crap dangit. I didn’t know he was this… lame.” 

“I was once a hero, you know.” Walter mumbled. I looked at him, “I was once a hero before Justice Pleats Dark. Before Kingdom Cut. I kept up with all of you. I was the Origami Spectre. Now…” He sighed. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Oof, the edge.” Vanessa said, “Dude. It’s high school. We got worse crap we’re dealing with than origami teams, be honest with yourself.” Not only was it funny that the origami Raven was saying this, but we all kind of nodded in agreement. I mean, the things I had dealt with were so minor, almost funny, even, that Walter accentuating everything with this air of mystery really annoyed all of us. I think the only people that could legitimately say, like, their high school career was “edgy” would be Alan. Even then, Alan kind of tries to take his harsh life in stride. 

“I’ll have you know that my life as of late has not been edgy—” The ding of the elevator went off, and I grinned, sighing a sigh of relief.

“Look, guys! Our floor! Finally! Yippee! Thank goodness!”

I am so excited to be done with this.

OoF tHe EdGE

By Walter “The Spectreigami” Gilligan

I don’t want to be jaded. Believe me, I don’t. But seeing this team running around, I can’t help but wonder what could’ve been. I know, I know. I’ve been gone. It’s been a long, long time. I really, really fell off the deep end when we returned for the spring semester. With the Justice Pleats Dark happening, I really lost track of myself. A fire in a home, and then the whole Kingdom Cut thing — as the guy who’s supposed to recover things, I hate to say that I’ve really been behind it. 

I should know all the stories. 

I should know all of the people around me.

But I don’t. I don’t know who’s fault that could be, but something has happened now between The Paranoia and Itinerary Planning incident and now. I’ve become distant, unattached to everybody and everything around me. I don’t know my part in all of this, and I guess I never will, or never have.

Nonetheless, I’ve been a part of something amazing. And while they may roast me now, they’ll know that I was important in some way for them coming together… they’ll figure it out eventually.

Here It Is…

By Stuart “Green Paper Lantern” Jones

Me and Matt have always gotten along. We never really interacted much, but it was something that we could both acknowledge as fact; I believe that our strength came from the fact that we weren’t really the same people as Chris Booth, Alan Wade, or even Theresa Carter. We had a sort of different bond, even if I didn’t really get to hang out with his buddies.

So, Matt speedily works at checking around, snooping in places he’s not supposed to be as I stand at the sidelines, letting him do his work.

“Y’need help?” I asked.

“Nah Stuart, I’m fine.”

“How have you been?” I asked, making small talk.

“I’ve been fine. I mean, I guess things are kind of weird. Friendship dynamics can be weird, man. I didn’t expect to be this close to my little cousin now, but here we are.”

“Interesting.” I continued looking outside, hoping that there wouldn’t be anyone that would show up. “Should we let the others come in here?”

“Call in Jessie and Charlie.”

“Why just those two?”

Matt looked at me, breathing heavily. “I know those two, at least. I don’t know who Megan, Andrew, Vanessa, or Dayvon are. I also don’t know Eleanor.”

“You know Walter, though.” I mentioned. We both stared at one another, and he shrugged.

“I don’t know Walter. None of us did, I guess.”

“Isn’t that kind of sad?” I asked, “I mean, we have all of these different people, wonderful classmates and peers, but we don’t really… you know, get to know them. We ‘know’ them, and we have heard their actions, and when we ask them why they did something, we don’t really know why. Just the how and the when.”

“Walter was an archivist. That’s what he wanted to be, at least, that’s what I gleaned from him… I know that Jonathan trusts Charlie and Jessie. If my little cousin can trust them… then maybe I should, too.”

I called Charlie and Jessie into the room. They were talking amongst one another about this task and how annoying it kind of was the most boring of all of them.

“Hey guys,” Matt said, standing up, “I’ve loved looking all around here, but I could really use you guys to take over for a bit. At least until I feel good enough to—”

“Found it.” Charlie said, opening a drawer at the bottom of the desk. Matt and I looked, finding multiple files containing transcripts, along with harddrives, each of different months in the last four years.

“Seriously?” Matt asked.


“Well then.” I said, “Let’s go.”

We walked out, rounding up the rest of the crew. “So, we found the necessary files. Let’s uh… Let’s go.” 

“By the way,” Jessie said, “Apparently things got action packed over at Lampert. Fights and fire alarms. Just thought you guys should know.”

We all groaned. That sounded so much cooler right now.

Final Texts

By Eleanor “Zatannagami” Borshokavski

The meal was awful.

I keep saying this, everytime me and the JPD go to Citizen Wade’s it is just a consistent mess of flavor. ‘But it’s a local delicacy.’ Theresa might say.

‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s any good. KFC is the worst in Kentucky.’ I’d say back.

Anyways, our “team,” the most disappointing of them all, had succeeded. Matt pushed his bowl of meat soup (called the “Duncan”) away from him, looking at his texts. The Tin Titans were talking about potentially reinviting CJ to the team, and it just seemed that while we weren’t all really needed since we spent so much time searching for nothing, everyone was pretty happy and content with the whole journey.

Me and Neil were texting as well; not the Flex Luthor one, but the Foldifer Morningpleat. Apparently every other team had action. They had something intense. He told me he threw a molotov cocktail (typical Neil Vanderlin move). Even the Olive Garden group got free food and had revelations. 

However… as I’m sitting there, trying my best to stomach the Chicken Pot Pie, our phones all buzzed at the same time.

Alan sent a text: “Your job is done. I appreciate all of our effort; we, truly, are the best Justice Pleats team. We will reconvene tonight at my home.”

“Oh… Kay…” I said. We all put our phones up, trying to finish the food. Charlie said he was going to get sick, so he ran out to throw up.

This food is horrible. This last mission was boring. But we were all a part of this magic trick in some way, I guess.


Another Meeting…

By Theresa “Wonder Folder” Carter

We were all exhausted.

That’s the only thing I could really see around the room: our exhaustion had reached a penultimate peak, everyone was fading in and out in sleep. Even Jonathan, the seemingly most energetic of the few, was falling asleep.

Alan Wade and Neil were not back yet.

One time, I had a conversation with Chris about Neil; we talked about why Neil was such a crappy person, what would make him go that way. We couldn’t really determine it over Wendy’s, but he said it’s probably because of wanting to fit in. He figured that, although Neil was so popular amongst everyone else, he never fitted in with anything or anybody. Honestly, I wish Chris was SuPaperMan right now instead of him. I worry that Neil is still trying to act a certain way to fit in with people.

“Ugh…” Percy groaned, sitting next to Matthew and Casey, “Where is he?”

“Chris? I don’t know where he is.” Casey asked. I perked up. Some other voices in the crowd talked about Chris as well, and things were starting to kind of fall into place in my mind:

Chris was back. I didn’t know how, but the Donner protest group managed to get the SuPaperMan out of hiding. 

“I think he’s talking about—” Matthew started, but he was cut off by the porch-door opening. Alan and Neil entered. CJ and Richy stood by Alan’s side. Alan kind of shoo’d them away, leading to Richy joining the Young Justcrease crowd that had formed, and CJ sitting with the Tin Titans, sparking up a discussion with everyone and getting to know Ashley more. All the love to the girl, but I wish she told us sooner that she was Ms. Cooke’s granddaughter.

“Hello, everyone.” Alan said, “I’m sorry that we’re so late, and I’m sure you all have homework and other things to get to. But…” He then smiled, looking over at Neil.

“Huh? Oh. Alan,” It sounded like Neil was doing a character impression, “Isn’t there somebody missing?”

“What could you possibly mean?” Alan asked, also doing a character, “I mean, there’s forty-something faces in the crowd… How could I be missing someone?” I was on the edge of my seat, and everyone else was starting to kind of wake up to it as well.

“I mean… him.” The door opened again, and Chris Booth walked out. He was still in his goofy glasses, and he kind of looked out amongst the crowd, smiling and waving as people started to cheer. He wore a black Superman symbol across his chest, and he kind of held it forward in front of him. The uproar grew, and Alan struggled to silence everyone. Neil simply put a finger to his lips, hushing the crowd. Chris pointed to me, giving a thumbs up after.

“So, Chris Booth — our SuPaperMan — has returned. That’s not to discredit Neil in the slightest, he has been an immense help to planning and getting things done around here. However, who says there can’t be two SuPaperMen?”

Neil laughed, “No, no, I miss the Flex Luthor moniker.” The room was silent. We all thought that Neil was going to betray us or something. He awkwardly laughed, “I mean… Flex should’ve always been a good guy. I’ll keep the ‘S’ puppet, gladly, but if you’re going to refer to the puppet, just call me Flex instead of SuPaperMan.”

“A pleasure to be working with you for once, Neil.” Chris said, shaking Neil’s hand. “Alan, do you want me to take this on, or you?”

“Go ahead, Booth.” Alan took a step back, which I’m sure was hard for him to do. Chris stepped forward.

“So, we got these recordings and I believe most students on our side. At the very least, Kane kids are. For the next stage of this plan, everyone except us three, JC, Matthew, Stuart, and Theresa can go home. Your… uh…” He hasn’t publicly spoken in a while, “duty is done, I guess. Nonetheless,. I want you guys to all hear this, just so you all know what we hope will happen.”

Everyone shuffled. He took a step away, allowing Alan to come forward again, “We’re going to go to the town meeting that’s happening soon. We’ll present the evidence, including the riot outside of Donner and the fact that Tenebris has been corrupting the city more and more. If you guys want to be there to show your support, you can, but we do not want you guys to go through that. This is really our task. You’re all officially Justice Pleats members now. Welcome to the team. Go home!”

Me, Matt, and Stuart all stood up. They said their goodbyes to their friends for the night, and we all headed towards Alan, Chris, and Neil. Everyone else started going home; CJ left, even though he lived here.

“Why is CJ leaving?” I asked Alan.

“He wants to go to Dave and Busters with Richy, and he’s kind of tired after doing so much for me in the last week.”


“So,” Chris said, smiling, “Let’s get started.”

About the Recordings

By Matthew “The Fold” Yen

Listen, I might be the kid with the puppet of the “fastest man alive,” but I have to watch any Youtube video at a slower speed than usual. I need all of the information possible, and watching it at 0.75x speed is just enough for me.

The videos here are incriminating, to say the least. Me and Stuart had split them in half tonight to watch them in Alan’s theater and on his computer. Lots of transcripts were gleaned over as well, and… ultimately, we realized we had some nasty stuff on our hands. Threatening coworkers, being mean to public officials; there’s even a video of him yelling at the Chief of Police that, if any students acted badly or against him, then they ought to be arrested. The man appeared chill on the surface, but he constantly blew up in private. It’s not healthy.

There was another video of him talking about expelling a group of trouble-making kids, including Simon Quigley, this kid that Jonathan really despised. The rest of the team came into the theater.

“Are you guys almost done?” Theresa yawned. Me and Stuart looked up from our reclining chairs. Neil was in his PJs, Alan had a blanket wrapped around him, and Chris stood tall. I guess this origami stuff really rejuvenated him.

“I mean, I guess. But there’s so much here.” Stuart said, motioning to the big screen, “Lots of incriminating things. I don’t know what we should do with it.”

“Leak it to the public.” Neil said to us. “It’s dirty, yeah, but it’ll be the fastest way to not just get him to bring Kane back, but to get him out of town.”

“I hate to agree with the former Flex Luthor, but he’s right.” Theresa said, “We gotta play dirty.”

Everyone agreed, but I looked at Alan, wide awake now. He faced Chris, who was shaking his head, “No. We can bring back the school, expose the biggest crappy things he’s done, but there is no need to ruin a life. He’ll do that on his own if it’s as bad as you say it is.”

“Do you always have to be the good guy?” Theresa asked, bumping him in the shoulder.

“It’s kind of in the name; being good makes you SuPaper, I guess.” Chris said. 

“Here’s an idea,” Stuart started, “Why don’t we keep some of these clips, right? But we get someone to write like, the most important aspects of Tenebris’ legacy. He’ll do his own research, get these things done, and return something epic to us; the things that they feel is most important.”

“Do you have anyone in mind?” Alan asked. Stuart looked at me, and I knew who he was thinking about.

“Walter Gilligan.” I said, “The Source and the Origami Spectre.”

Alan nodded, “I’ll make some phone calls.”

Walter arrived at the house an hour or so later. He watched all of the videos in 3x speed, taking notes as on the other computer he uncovered a hidden history about Tenebris.

“Actually, his history is unknown.” He said, “Really unknown. Thanks for giving me this opportunity, guys.” He said, “This’ll be the first thing people get to see, right?”

“Right.” Alan said.

“Cool. I’m happy to see you guys as a team, y’know. By the way, Stuart—”


“I’m sorry for being so edgy, earlier. I’ve just been off the rails, really.”

Stuart smiled, putting a hand on Walter’s shoulder, “You’re good, man.” 

“Thank you.”

We were a team actually, finally. A genuine, bonafide team. I grinned. This was awesome.

Phone Call Transcript

Conducted by Neil Swift, Transcribed by Walter Gilligan

Neil: Hey, Stephanie, can you hear me okay?

Stephanie: Who’s calling?

Neil: Oh, uh… Neil Swift. We met once.

Stephanie: Have we? 

Neil: Yeah, the circumstances of it don’t particularly matter, though. 

Stephanie: Neil… Neil…

Neil: That’s my name, ma’am.

Stephanie: Yeah, I don’t remember. Were you one of the kids that had us quit our jobs?

Neil: No, but I’m actually calling to talk to you a bit more about that. Are you busy?

Stephanie: Nope. I quit, and Malcolm is sending me text after text begging me to come back. What do you need?

Neil: So, this Friday is the Town Hall monthly meeting. I imagine they’ll be discussing graduation plans, new roads, the usual. I was wondering if you, Ms. Cooke, and Mitch be there?  

Stephanie: Sure. After that, can I have my job back?

Neil: I’m sure you can, yes. Tenebris is bound to be there, too.

Stephanie: Alright, wonderful. We’ll be there.

Neil: … Just that simple?

Stephanie: Yup. Kind of how the adult world works, Mr. Swift.

Neil: Wow…

I Ain’t Worried

By JC “Aquapleat” Russell

Honestly, this was the team I wish we had… Neil included. Even Walter is working on crafting a “narrative” to present, it all just works to our best abilities. I, of course, have been designated as the team’s “fun guy.” I make the fun happen.

Of course, everyone would be stressed. Heck, I’m not even in school anymore but I feel it too. Putting ourselves out there can be hard, but it’s necessary. So, I interrupted all of our hard work; Alan and Chris were practicing their speeches and Theresa was working with Stuart and Matt on making sure they looked presentable with a “Attention!”

They all perked up.

“What, JC?” Theresa asked.

“It’s time to take a break and play pool. Everyone, pick teams.”

Walter looked at me, “Seriously? We’re… playing a game?”

“Correcta-mundo.” I said, “I mean, I see all of your faces, you guys are scared! I’m scared too, don’t get me wrong. But you know what? Let’s not worry about this right now. Let’s just have some fun.” I set up the pool balls around the “JP” logo as Alan picked up a cue, Chris, Theresa, and Walter on his team. Meanwhile, me, Stuart, Matt, and Neil were on the other. They got stripes, and we got solids. Stuart was a natural

Walter got aux, and he played some bangers. Lots of his own music in the “Hyperpop” genre, but it was pretty solid. We were all laughing and smiling. Eventually, of course, our team won, and we crashed on the couches together.

“Would you guys like a pizza?” Danny asked.

“Sure!” I said. The pizza was placed, and we were all now talking amongst one another.

“Does this feel like old times?” I asked Alan. I almost said, “You know, before?” but I didn’t. While he had made some great strides, it’s clear that he was still Alan Wade. He laughed.

“Yeah. I guess it is. It’s just nice to have friends around, again.”

Chris jumped in, “It’s pretty cool to be back in the origami business, actually!” He exclaimed, “It just sucks that we’re going to be graduating in like… two weeks.”

“Hey,” Neil said. “One last hurrah, right?”

The music slowly died out, Walter’s album coming to a close. The silence stood dead in the air.

“Do you…” Alan started, “Do you guys think we’ll still be friends when we graduate?”

“The Justice Pleats will be done.” Stuart sighed, “And… Well, we’re bound to move on with our lives. I won’t lie, I’d be sad to not hear from you guys after, though.” 

Theresa had her arms crossed, “I think we’re bound to move on. We’ll be fine, though.” She kind of looked away from us. In a way, none of us were really that close. Even now, we were only close because we were on a team. It’s like doing a group project. Alan looked at his watch.

“Crap.” He said, “Guys, we gotta go.”

The Last Presentation

Described by Walter “The Spectreigami” Gilligan

In the course of Jutefruce history, town hall meetings have, consistently, been nothing. There’s never something to really fight about in Jutefruce; crime is immensely low, the students never really have anything to complain about, and, some would say, their number one export is a fast food restaurant that brings in some tourism, given the sad demise of their founders.

In the course of Jutefruce history, no one had ever really needed to fight for one of the schools to return. Until today.

In the course of Jutefruce history, no person under eighteen had sat in the town hall for a meeting. Until today.

Forty students crowded the audience floor, huddled shoulder-to-shoulder as they all looked straight on in anticipation. Between these high school students were the elderly and some middle aged people, which made up the larger demographic of city politics. They all were unsure as to why so many students were there.

After covering the replacement of some lights near Dave and Buster’s with stop signs, signing it into agreement, they called to the stand one Alan Wade and a Chris Booth to present their planned idea for “A Return to Normalcy.” Chris, clad in a blue suit, smiled and waved towards a camera that his girlfriend, Penny Layne, held. She took a picture, a picture that she would use in her last article for the Brando Weekly as Alan, clad in a black sportcoat with yellow bat cuff-links and buttons, piddled with his sleeve. They both paradoxically looked serious, despite the contrasting outfits and dispositions.

A man stepped in. His hulking body and tiny man-bun crowded the scene as he, too, stepped to the stands, taking an empty seat with the placard “Malcolm Tenebris.” He stared at the two boys.

“Thank you, everyone, that could be here today.” Chris started, holding a set of flashcards in front of him, “I’m Chris Booth. I’m not much of a speaker, but I have lived in Jutefruce for all of my life. Today, my…” He looked at Alan, “friend, Alan Wade, and I have decided to offer a plea to the city of Jutefruce, to this Town Hall specifically; one in which we request a simple thing: a return to normalcy.”

Alan took the mic, “I was a former Kane High student. For a while, I had to leave the school due to threats towards my life, however, that is not on the school’s fault. In fact, I’m looking around me today, at all of you in the court, and I feel like I recognize a few of you. Your bodies, your voices. But that… that’s not what matters today. Kane High School needs to return. We’re going to appeal to you all on two angles: the school pride, and the logistics. Chris will now take the lead.”

Fumbling with his notecards, Chris chuckled a bit, “I’m sorry. I go through this fifteen hundred times and it still feels totally different when you’re in front of people. Growing up, there are three things that are most important to an upbringing: a strong home-life, a strong work-life, and a strong school-life. When I was young, I had my mother and father. We were doing everything together. We went on vacations, saw dolphins, and visited buildings all throughout this town. Dad helped me decide on Donner as my high school; my home for all four years. He got me into drawing, and folding. My heart goes out to him, as he passed away just a few years ago. Nonetheless, even in times of weakness, I owe so much to him and to my mother who sticks by my side even today.” Chris’ mom, who was at the meeting, was already crying. “A work-life comes a bit later in development. You might find your first job volunteering at a zoo, painting children’s faces. It’s going to be unpaid, but you gain experience necessary for the future. My first work-life experience was working as a cartoonist for the Brando Weekly, where some of my art has been utilized to poke fun at the goings-on of the school, to help showcase some minor negative aspects. However, my school-life is built on a genuine pride for the best possible version that Donner Preparatory can, and will, be. Bullying will be found anywhere you go, but if we can teach people empathy, then it will go a long while. Something I’ve learned throughout my time in Jutefruce is that people will change. They change for the better. People have a natural inclination towards what they believe is right. That’s why Superintendent Tenebris’ cohort: Stephanie Wulf, Mitch… uhh… the last name fails me right now, Caleb Ackerman, and Ms. Cooke is here with us today. They know, because most of humanity has a natural inclination towards good and justice, that the closing of Kane is, definitely, the wrong move.”

“From a logistical standpoint,” Alan said, taking over, “The removal of Kane from the three high schools in the city has led to an over-abundance of students in the classroom. There’s not enough desks to accommodate kids. Some students are homeschooled, now, in which they are finishing out their last year alone at home, working on a curriculum that they might not be getting the best out of. There were plenty of other options here that could’ve been done. For example, massive renovations towards Kane, going into increasing every aspect of the school’s quality, could’ve led to a much better environment for learning and growth. Hindsight is 20/20 — rehabilitating “problem students” as opposed to putting them in an underdeveloped, safety-hazard hall could’ve made it better. Not wasting tax-payer dollars on lockdown doors, instead directing it to making a better Kane could’ve… well, led to something nothing like what we had now. Instead, and as you all will see from the documents in your hands, Tenebris chose a quick way out to lie and garner clout amongst his other superintendent peers.” 

They reached into their files, finding the transcripts that Walter Gilligan (me) had done, expressed in a dramatic form. They skimmed the pieces. A lot of them looked shocked, and Tenebris looked unmoved.

Chris continued, “School pride is so important here; it’s not like Wheeler and Kirby in Madison, New York. The nationwide news-spree surrounding the closure of a school due to competing pridefulness is not what Kane, Donner, and Lampert had. Rather, it was a synergy; like small towns, each person was different and identifiable as they were Kane kids, or Donner dudes. Now, that identity is gone. It’s all a jumbled mess. School-life is not here. It’s a requirement, and people; even freshmen, who must make it four years doing this everyday, are just doing it to survive.”

“So, I worked with some of the best architects that Citizen Wade’s Soup and Meats to craft a new school. We are willing to help fund it.” He showcased the new school-grounds, “Long ago, Bill Finger and Bob Kane had visited Jutefruce City on a minor cross-country trip. No one really knew the guy that had actually created Batman, but everyone knew from that visit the guy that claimed to have made the titular character. That lame story is why Kane has it’s name. Because of this, this brand new school design would be titled the ‘Bill Finger Institute for Learning,’ a public school that will strive to push people to their creative and academic limits. It will be clean, it will be slick, and, best of all, logical for the city’s growth. It’ll attract new faces, and it’ll bring forth a new age to Jutefruce. Just like Donner and Lampert, it’ll become another nationally recognized high school.” He showed off the simplistic design of the Bill Finger Institute.

“Please, city of Jutefruce, consider this going forward. Do not concede to… a liar, a manipulator, a hurtful being like Tenebris. Think about school pride, think about your childhood. Most of all… think of the children. They need it the most.” Chris concluded. Alan and Chris stepped away to a resounding applause from the audience. Tenebris stood up and journeyed to the mic.

“This is madness.” He said, “These students had done nothing to change their schools during Kane’s operating years. No one changed anything until I arrived. If people had complaints, I’d listen to them. I swear.”

“That’s a lie.” Stephanie said, “I’m sorry, Malcolm, but it’s a lie. We had a group of students confront us at dinner, and you expelled each and every one of them. The only one untouched is in the audience right now.” Neil Swift stood up, waving. Tenebris’ eyes glared.

“You’ve been a crappy employer.” Mitch said, “And I wish that my work-life was better than this.”

“We’re all in agreement, then, that Kane ought to be reconstructed, right?” The leader of the town hall meeting asked.

“Yes, Ms. Vanderlin.” Another agreed. Murmurs of approval echoed throughout the hall.

“Also…” Ms. Vanderlin, Neil’s mother, continued, “I vote that we remove Malcolm Tenebris from his position after launching a complete investigation into his transgressions. Agreed?”

They all nodded, “Agreed.”

“You all agreed to this idea months ago. You all didn’t hear me. Now, you want to remove me from office. We all met, we all agreed, and now you don’t? What kind of kangaroo court is this?”

“Mr. Tenebris, please leave.” Ms. Vanderlin demanded. 

“You all have a nice life, enjoy your graduation. I can’t believe that you’re all doing me this way.” Tenebris got up and left the scene. The hall breathed a sigh of relief. Chris and Alan hugged, and the entire place cheered as we all stepped out.

The Justice Pleats won, finally.


Theresa Carter, dressed in her graduation robes, stood at the front of the preliminary construction for the new school. She smiled, leaning up against the podium. The joint graduation between all three schools had concluded, and she was giving the last speech of the year.

“Life is like paper.” She began, “It starts out unfurled, uncrumpled, unchanged. Over time, people come, they go, and with each person, place, event; that paper progressively folds more and more. When life folds over itself, adding layer upon layer, it gets more complicated, and, at times, we don’t see the final product. It becomes so intricate, that we struggle to know if we’ll even have something resembling the instructions. However, when we finally get something, it’s gorgeous.”

“I don’t care that we’re graduating.” She said to a shocked gasp, “I don’t. Eventually, we’ll grow apart, we won’t hear from one another except over some new Instagram post or a facebook message announcing an engagement or a baby on the way. We know that ultimately, when we raise our hats, life will carry on.” She then choked a bit on her words, “Our origami will continue to fold, it will continue to become intricate, and we won’t see just how beautiful they’ll become in the moment.”

“But I’ve made many friends here. I’ve made people upset, I’ve made people doubt themselves, and I’ve doubted myself more and more everyday. For that, I am sorry. I’m sorry to the people that I have hurt along the way to making my origami the best it could possibly be. I’m sorry to myself for trying to crumple it up and restart with a new piece of paper when I know that’s not possible. I was asked, a few weeks ago, if I thought I’d still talk to some people when we graduated. I said we’d be fine. We’re bound to move on. But you guys have made my high school life wonderful; you’ve made memories that I’ll hold to my heart. Regardless of if it is a school-wide food poisoning scandal, a rumored Shredder Squad working for teachers, or even a lockdown in which students set up kingdoms inside of a school, you have all made my life one that is worth living.”

“Mary Oliver once wrote a poem, titled ‘The Summer Day.’ She recounts animals and insects, living throughout the summer. She asks at the end of the poem, ‘Tell me, what else should I have done? / Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? / Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?’ So, I ask all of you, as we approach our graduation, what is it that you, truly, plan to do with the origami being folded ahead of you; never crumple it, never ruin it, but allow yourself to plan the creases going forward, to improve and allow it to change like a river. Eventually, you’ll come out with a life that has folded itself into a swan. Your one wild and precious life is also the most beautiful one you can ever have. Thank you, Jutefruce class of 2021.” She raised her graduation cap, throwing it in the air. Everyone else followed.

Chris Booth stands inside of his dorm room, unpacking the last of his bags. Penny and his mother are with him; Penny continues to snap pictures, and his mom wipes tears from her eyes.

“Ma, stop crying.” He says, “It’ll be okay.”

“I know.” She says, “I just can’t believe my baby boy is moving out.”

“I’m literally just a drive away, mom. That’s it.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“You better come and visit me, honey.” Penny says, wrapping him in a hug. Chris hugs her tightly back. She kisses him, and backs away, out of the dorm room, leaving Chris and his mother.

“You know, your dad wanted you to have this when you moved out.” She said, reaching into her bag, “He kept saying it was important, and I freaked out when I thought you had spray painted it black, I was so scared the message would be lost.” She hands Chris the old symbol, the one in the Fortress of Only Dudes, the one that he wore to fight Flex and to witness the end of the Justice Pleats; the one that he was inspired by to unite the group again. Chris looks at it.

“What do you mean?”

“Unfold it.”

“Ma, I can’t do that.” 

“Honey, you know how to fold it back now. Unfold it.”

Chris slowly unfolded the symbol, and as he did, a letter unfurled.

Son, it begins.

Hope is what brings people together. Hope for a better future, a loving life, a happy world. You brought hope into mine when I held you in my arms. You made my entire world come true. I told your mom to not let you unfold this, to keep it safe until the time was right. I said that it would probably be by the time you were in college. I assumed my sickness would be far too gone by then. 

I’m sure you’ve found the other letters, the loving notes I’ve written throughout your life. The short time I have had to spend with you has been the best time I’ve ever spent in my life, simply because you are the best son that a dad could ever ask for. If you are ever down, read this, because I want you to know something:

Have hope in yourself, because I have hope in you.

I love you to the moon and back, kiddo.


Chris starts to cry. His mom wraps him in a hug, and he sobs tears of love, of ennui, of joy. He will always have hope.

Stuart would go on to pursue an engineering degree. He’d pursue his doctorate as well. JC would recover his status when he eventually competed on his college’s swim team, recovering after being expelled from the prestigious Lampert academy. Matt, Casey, and Percival continue to be friends as the only Fold roams Lampert’s halls, Jonathan Yen as the sole protector of the school now. Neil Swift lives on Chris Booth’s hall, they party on occasion.

Alan Wade stood at the door to his old home. A few nights ago, he folded one last puppet. The creases were the sharpest that he had ever made them, the design was as intricate as any that had come before. He was proud of it; arguably, it was the best Batfold that he had ever made. He had given it a solid dark face, and it’s symbol was a red color. There was always more; there should always be growth, there should always be change. People just need to go beyond.

An incoming freshman lives in Alan’s old home now; the one that he lived in after giving up his mansion all the way to moving back into it. He doesn’t know much about the kid, not even the gender or if they even know about the DC stuff Donner, Lampert, and now the almost-completed Bill Finger Institute has and probably will experience. Nonetheless, he places the Batfold Beyond puppet in the envelope.

He stares for a moment, thinking about the wild life he has had. The places he has gone, the people he has met, the events that has occurred. He decided that, if his life was an origami, it was a bat spreading its wings to fly. 

He places the envelope into the mailbox, addressed to an “Incoming Bill Finger Student.” He takes a last look at his old home, and he walks away.

The End of the DCOU.


I don’t know what to say.

It’s finally over, and I’m happy with what I’ve done, and I hope you guys are, too. I have enjoyed the last three/four years I’ve spent working on this website, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

To Noah: The Fold had reignited a dead OU. It made me want to write Batfold 2, and had it not have been written, chances are we wouldn’t have gotten this final product.

To Hades: having written the second most amount of stories for the DCOU, your effect on the universe does not go unnoticed. I want you to keep pursuing your dreams and aspirations. I believe in you.

To Jawa: Your support helped me get through to the finish line.

To Jar Jar: Tin Titans, Batpen, any other DCOU story unfinished or finished, I really appreciate all of them. CJ became a character of his own largely thanks to you. I think that without your work on him, he wouldn’t have become the amazing Nightcrease we have today.

To Guillermo: Your work on Theresa has led her to an amazing point in which I felt as though I could make a through-line to her conclusion. I appreciate all the creations you’ve done for this universe.

To JC: Your previous work acted as the building blocks to this universe we have now. Completed, near the end of the site — I honor you.

To OM53: EVERY character made by you has been my favorite, and I hope you do not stop writing when the site concludes.

Cammy: You might never see this, but as a frequent collaborative partner, your support has and always will mean the world to me.

Tom Angleberger: What more can I say? You’ve inspired all of us to pursue the best versions of our storytelling selves.

Thrawn: Steven Sue was necessary for this story, and you made one heck-of-a-story to introduce him. Thank you.

CD: I don’t think you’ll see this, but you’re awesome. Thank you for being here to see the insanity, even if you don’t read it.

SLS: the creation of Theresa Carter helped shape an overall tone of the DCOU that I have enjoyed doing. Thank you.

Lastly, to the 2012 Peyton that said “I want to write a Batfold Story.” You did it. You made something coherent. You’ve completed a project. I am so proud of you.

Thank you all for sticking with this site.


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  1. thank you peyton, very cool

  2. This was great! Peyton, you have been a great help to not just me but to probably everyone on this site. Thank you for always helping me with my stories when I needed the help.

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