In 8th grade in the school I went to in Alabama, there was a canned food drive. It was a yearly thing, and every grade was competing for a prize. Some years it was free ice cream (plus getting out of class). Others it was some other food item, or some shit like that. Not worth much, but it's an Alabama middle school, any excuse to get out of the shithole of an educational system even for 20 minutes was worth it. We didn't give a shit about the homeless people the cans were for, of course. Usually the grade above us won, those cunts.
When 8th grade came along, we knew it in our hearts that we would win that canned food drive. There would be hell to pay if anything else happened. The free ice cream would be ours, we would overthrow the canned food bonjwas of Auburn, Alabama. Our teachers joined in on the fervor, my english teacher (who was a stereotyped metrosexual married to a woman that was the exact opposite, a very "butch" (I guess this would be the word) fat woman) was stirring up the canned food drama in his high pitched voice. The stage was set, and week after week, cases of ramen and Campbell's tomato soup poured into Auburn Junior High School. The cans were tallied and somehow we had come in on top. After some brief accusations of cheating, we would be given our still as-yet unspecified prize in a few days. Impatiently we waited.
On that day, we were taken to the roach-infested auditorium to be greeted by the grating voice of the new principal, Mrs. I-only-got-my-job-because-i'm-fucking-the-superintendent. That bitch congratulated us on our "hard work" (read: bugging our parents for ramen and cans). Today, she said that we would have a guest speaker. A middle-aged fat woman with brown curly hair came up onto the stage. She came to talk to us about something she called "PMS". No, not that PMS. Pre-marital sex. As middle schoolers we giggled at the word sex, but the principal-bitch yelled some inhuman gutteral scrabblydoo at us and we complied with silence. At the same time, we were wtfing to ourselves. This isn't health class. If it's health class, where's the creepy baseball-coach-turned-health-teacher that always is asking the preppy girls that had developed faster to bend over to pick things up for him, the same coach that years later got coincidentally fired soon after they put up the internet filter for unspecified reasons. The lady began telling us a story about a girl named Jenny. Jenny was a very pretty girl from Florida. She was very happy, very smart girl who was the top of her class. Also very pretty. She had everything going for her, head of the cheerleading team. On a senior trip after high school she went to Jamaica on a vacation. She met this wonderful man, who she fell madly in love with. Pretty soon, despite her best intentions and despite her mild protests, he convinced her to have sexual intercourse with him. They continued being happy, but soon she had to get on the plane back to Miami-Dade International Airport. So before she left, he gave her an envelope containing a letter. He told her not to open it until she got off the airplane in the US. He said he loves her, and they made their goodbyes. She was wondering very much what was in he envelope. She kept to her word and didn't open it a moment too soon. When she got there, she tore it open, and out fell a note bearing a single sentence:
+ Show Spoiler +
WELCOME TO THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF AIDS
And that my friends, is why you don't fuck random jamaican men.
Our class never put forth an effort in the canned food drive again. Or anything at all for that matter.