The year is 2040: The world supply of paper has dwindled down to near extinction, and the final hall pass slip in the world has been handed to the last recipient. Over the past several decades, schools have vehemently eaten away at the supply and have finally destroyed  every piece of paper in existence.

Out of all of the paper used up wastefully on this once green earth, schools have been the most sinister culprit. And in these schools of the 21st century, the most significant paper shredder has unquestionably been hall passes. Police officers patrol every corner of the school, but it apparently must remain in the canon law that each and every student must hold an almighty piece of paper (that, in a past life, was once a tree, enjoying a splendid life amongst its family in the forest) in order to achieve the blessing of taking 12.5 steps to the nearest bathroom.

No longer are the leaders of tomorrow allowed to lead themselves to the nearest drinking fountain by merely raising his or her hand to request consent. No longer are teachers able to trust their subordinates UNLESS they possess the most powerful object in the world.

And in spite of efforts to limit the paper consumed by the inefficient and ineffective hall passes, things always backtracked to these neanderthalian ways. And at last, the world’s GDPP (Gross Domestic Paper Product) has finally reached its death.

Alas, it remained unnoticed that with each sheet of paper used up, the world was brought closer to demise. And now on this rather cold March day (it is only a mere 91°F here in upstate New York) the world freezes as the infinite power of paper has become the rarest and most valuable entity on the planet.

Without paper for passes, it becomes impossible for schools to even exist.