Our Own Private Bug Army- Jowen

Setup

Finally... Finally! It was complete! His most complex, time-consuming, difficult project he had ever pulled off.

His master's thesis.

After all the time he had put in, and how much coffee and Space Monster he had ingested that evening, it was complete.The extended version of his analysis of "Workin' Boys: a New Musical" for his ancient musical theatre class. He was damn lucky the professor for his Teleportation 101 course was a bit more forgiving and just let him build something, instead of writing one of these longass research papers. After hitting submit, he scrubbed a hand over his face, and yawned so big tears pricked his eyes.

"Shit..." he mumbled. "I need a hit." He opened up his nightstand drawer, hoping he had just a little left of his stash. That Space Monster was still coursing through his veins... nope. Looks like it's time to lie down and stare at the ceiling for an hour or so.

Junior sat down on his bed, staring off into space. The wall looked so interesting at this time of night. So did the blinking lights on his machine- a molecular speed transporter. It was amazing, a marvel. As soon as the idea was down on paper, he had begun. It became more of a passion project for him than anything, not even a part of his lessons. Fuse by fuse, program by program, it had come together as his finest masterpiece.

After rubbing his bloodshot eyes, he smiled to himself. His dad was gonna be so proud, and so was his professor. He lay back down, humming as he drifted off to sleep... well, a sleep-like daze. Too much caffeine.

The Deadliest Man Alive... He liked that title. It was fitting. It was accurate. Or it would be... if he ever got out of this damn gadgets lecture and got down to business.

His partner was an idiot, A mega idiot. He smiled to himself at his own pun. Curtis Mega was currently sitting next to him, whispering with a boy at the next table, who he was making the most obvious googoo eyes at. Go figure. To the other boy's left, Barb was glaring at Curt, but the rest of her body language showed that she was still doing her best to pay attention. Owen sighed. Why couldn't he have been paired with Barb? Could they trade?

A poisoned dart that came flying by Curt's head brought him back to attention. The professor narrowed her eyes, putting down the empty... was that a pen? "Carvour, can you reign your partner in?"

Owen rolled his eyes, landing on Mega, who sheepishly smiled and shrunk into his chair. This was going to be a long project.

A few moments later, a note landed in Owen's lap. Then another. He looked up at the guy who walked by and dropped the note in his lap, and tried to hide the knowing smirk. The italian and him had an agreement, and if he could separate himself from his clingy fiancée long enough, Owen could get his hands on the boy's project from last semester- a compact bomb.

The other note, however, came from the other direction. Mega? He opened it up without looking at Mega, and skimmed it.

Are... are you serious? "Do you like me, check yes or no?" What are we, middle schoolers? Fuck, he probably is in his head.

Owen scribbled on the note, I'll tell you if we get an A on this project. No, he really didn't But suspense is fun. He lived for the suffering of others, so why not stretch this out? Who knows, maybe he could say yes, then fake his own death... once he graduated, of course.

The stupid boy to Mega's left raised his hand. "Excuse me, professor? Are any of our gadgets like, time travelling things?"

The professor threw her head back and laughed, then realised he was completely serious. "What?! No! Time travel is not a technology available to us, nor will it ever be! The idea is as laughable as someone with a silly mustache taking over a country and exterminating an entire race. Now shut up and pay attention!"