View source for MJSD Chronicles (Official)

The first installment in the Cannon MJSD Chronicles
----Chapter 1 

The air in Mr. Zecon's fifth-grade classroom crackled with the kind of chaotic energy only a room full of eleven-year-olds could generate.  It was the kind of chaos that involved half-finished art projects splayed across desks, the faint scent of suspiciously sugary snacks, and the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of Ender, a four-year-old musical prodigy (at least in his own mind), furiously burning out a beat on his ancient macbook pro. Ender wasn't just any fan od Michael Jackson; he was a connoisseur of MJ's later, more experimental work, a fact that often resulted in him being the target of good-natured (and sometimes not-so-good-natured) ribbing from his peers.                              

Beside him sat Motif, the de facto leader of their little group.  Eleven years old and already sporting the world-weary cynicism of a seasoned Kermit the Frog impersonator, Motif possessed an undeniable musical talent that far outweighed his apparent apathy.  He could pick up any instrument and play it with a casual grace that bordered on magical.  He currently wielded a battered recorder, quietly playing a melody that sounded suspiciously like a remix of "Smooth Criminal."  His expression, however, remained stubbornly impassive.

Across from Motif, Znop, a grumpy ten-year-old with a permanent frown, hunched over his laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he expertly maneuvered Mercy in Overwatch 2.  His love for Mercy, the game's angelic healer, was legendary amongst the group, and he'd even been known to wear a homemade Mercy halo to school (much to the amusement of Rodney).                   

Goku, also ten, was a whirlwind of hyperactive energy and Mario-themed accessories.  He bounced in his seat, occasionally letting out a triumphant "Wa-hoo!" after successfully completing a particularly tricky level in Super Mario Odyssey.  Goku's flamboyant style and enthusiasm for all things Nintendo often made him the target of playground taunts, particularly from Oppa, his arch-nemesis, who had a knack for making Goku's life a living, breathing "game over" screen.

Completing this quirky ensemble was Rodney, the class clown. Rodney was a walking, talking meme generator whose brain was a veritable treasure trove of brainrot jokes and unexpectedly catchy Michael Jackson remixes.  He was currently attempting to teach Znop a new dance move he’d invented, a bizarre fusion of the moonwalk and the worm, which Znop, predictably, was resisting with all his might.         

The classroom itself seemed to reflect the energy of its inhabitants.  Colorful drawings adorned the walls, alongside motivational posters sporting inspirational quotes from both Michael Jackson and motivational speakers. The air buzzed with low-level chatter, punctuated by the occasional shriek of laughter or a frustrated groan.  Mr. Zecon, their teacher, a man with the patience of a saint (or perhaps, a very dedicated Overwatch player) calmly circulated, offering words of encouragement or, occasionally, corrections.  Helper, their eighteen-year-old teacher's aide, who seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of colorful markers and bandages, moved through the room with the ease of someone who’d seen it all.          

Suddenly, a shadow fell across the group, and a sneering voice cut through the cacophony.  "Look at the MJSD Crew," Silv drawled, her tone dripping with sarcasm.  Silv, a classmate with a talent for perfectly timed trolling, loved nothing more than to disrupt the group's harmony.  She often arrived just at the right moment to inject a dose of chaos, meticulously choosing words to test the very fabric of their friendship.  He was like a mischievous sprite, flitting in and out of the group's activities, leaving a trail of bewilderment and thinly veiled annoyance in his wake. This time, she had appeared just as Ender finished crafting what he believed to be a groundbreaking MJ-inspired beat.  

Ender, oblivious to Silv’s arrival, proudly presented his creation.  "Listen to this, guys! It’s ‘Thriller’… but… with a trap beat!"  He beamed, headphones perched precariously on his ears.  The resulting cacophony was a jarring blend of the iconic ‘Thriller’ bassline and a series of surprisingly complex trap beats.  It was, to put it simply, mediocre.     

The response was mixed. Motif raised an eyebrow, a gesture that somehow conveyed both skepticism and begrudging admiration.  Znop grunted, his eyes still glued to his computer.  Goku, however, erupted in enthusiastic applause.  Rodney, ever the opportunist, immediately started adding gywoom samples to the mix, creating an impromptu remix that would have made even the most seasoned DJ blush.      

Silv, however, simply smirked.  "Wow b*tch," she said, her voice laced with mock awe.  "Truly groundbreaking.  I can't believe I haven't heard this masterpiece on the radio yet."  she paused, adding a pointed glance at Ender's computer.  "I bet Korgnex would love this," she whispered, his eyes gleaming with mischief.            

The name hung in the air, a cryptic whisper that immediately piqued the group's interest.  Tape E. Vault, usually known simply as 'Tape', but increasingly adopting the moniker ‘Tapevault’ for his burgeoning online persona,  leaned forward, his eyes wide.  "Korgnex?" he repeated, a hint of reverence in his voice.  "You mean the guy who's got all those unreleased Michael Jackson tracks?"  

The mention of Korgnex, a shadowy figure who traded rare, unreleased MJ songs on obscure online forums, immediately shifted the focus of the group.  For Tape, the quest for these legendary tracks was more than just a hobby; it was a holy grail.  He was driven by a passion for finding the music that was intentionally hidden, forgotten, or lost to time, the musical equivalent of discovering a lost treasure map.  His online presence had begun to grow, but for now he held his cards close to his chest.  Korgnex was a legend whispered about in hushed tones, a figure shrouded in mystery, and for Tapevault, he was the ultimate target.

Helper, ever the observant adult, intervened gently.  "Okay, team, let’s focus.  We have a lot of work to do today.  And please, keep the volume down.  Mr. Zecon is trying to grade papers." His voice, usually calm and measured, had a slight edge of exasperated amusement, a subtle indicator that even he was starting to get overwhelmed by the MJSD crew’s vibrant energy. Mr. Zecon, a quiet but observant man, smiled faintly.  He'd long ago learned that trying to control the MJSD Crew was like trying to herd cats while riding a unicycle.  The best approach was to simply observe, and occasionally intervene when someone needed a bandage or a snack, or a firm correction about the History tour. The combination of Michael Jackson, Overwatch, and elementary school was always a recipe for unadulterated chaos.  But at least, she thought, it was never boring.  And beneath the surface of the playful chaos, Mr. Zecon saw something extraordinary.  These children, so different in their personalities and interests, were creating something special, a bond forged in shared passions and mutual respect. They were a team, and he was excited to see what they would accomplish.  The year was just beginning and the MJSD Chronicles were about to begin in earnest.