Report: Wibble Syndrome from Squeaky AV Carts Causes Psychological Harm

Wibble Syndrome or Wibble Disorder was officially recognized as a medical condition in 2002 by world renowned biological anthropologist and long-time nerd, Marcus Wibble. Wibble Syndrome is the name for the vastly ignored occurrence of sudden incurable insanity as a result of extreme embarrassment or unrelenting dread or fear. The most commonly documented cases of Wibble Syndrome transpire during the delivery of an old, squealing AV cart or TV cart from one classroom to another by a humiliated and begrudging student. It is a cruel combination of the sheer embarrassment of having to wheel a cart in front of a whole classroom of students coupled with the fact that most TV or AV carts are incredibly old and useless; featuring difficult to maneuver wobbly wheels and a loud and horrific squealing noise.

“It took a ridiculous amount of convincing on my part and that of my team at that time,” Marcus explained as he filled his stout, wood pipe with tobacco. “Most teachers didn’t want to believe that they had sentenced some poor kid to their doom, while others didn’t want to have to accept the responsibility of heaving that terrible cart from room to room themselves. It was really a struggle in the beginning.”

Wibble Syndrome is characterized by a number of symptoms and can take as few as one or as many as ten prehistoric television cart deliveries to really surface. It usually starts with sudden cold sweats and flushed skin, generally worse on the palms and forehead. This is often followed by an extreme lack of saliva and abrupt bursts of nervous laughter. Shifty eyes and an overactive mouth are also characteristic of someone suffering from an advanced state of Wibble Syndrome. Unfortunately, these visible symptoms, and the sufferers’ awareness of them, only seem to exacerbate the embarrassment which eventually results in terminal psychosis.

“It’s a vicious cycle,” Wibble mused, betraying a certain respect for the tragic condition. “The embarrassment is so severe; so ruthless. And it seems that these teachers, they always manage to pick the kids who are most susceptible to W.S. The kids who try to look inconspicuous when it’s choosing time…it’s disgusting really.”

I asked Mr. Wibble what kinds of precautions he and his team were taking to avoid W.S. “How,” I asked, “are you going to keep it from destroying our youth?” It was hard to steady my trembling voice in light of all I had learned.

He tells me about a potent tool he has developed in order to avoid the condition altogether. They are called, ‘AV kids’, he tells me. Special students who actually enjoy wheeling the ancient, squeaking cart down the hall and relish in their own tiny degree of power as they awkwardly heave the loud pile of squealing scrap through a class room in front of another group of kids.

“We conduct school-wide interviews and investigations in order to choose the ideal AV kid. One who truly won’t buckle under the immense weight of Wibble Syndrome. They are usually sickies…real sickies. They really like wheeling the cart from room to room. They even…love it.” Wibble began to turn a pale shade of green, “excuse me,” he managed to blurt out before running to the bathroom between retches.

After a few moments alone, he seemed to recover and came back outside. With a new spring in his step, he began, “This is just the first step. Hopefully one day we will be able to cure the world of Wibble Syndrome, but until then, we are going to have to continue to employ these foul, irritating children – let them do what they want with the AV carts and TV carts; the teachers have to tolerate their constant brown-nosing and incessant offers to take the attendance to the office. We are all suffering here. I know a few teachers on the front line who can’t even stomach their lunches anymore.”

I considered this problem for a second and was suddenly struck by a fantastic idea!

“Well, why don’t you just go to MoreAVCarts.com?” I asked excitedly.

“What is that?” Wibble asked, his eyebrows raised a hair.

“It is by far, the greatest place to get top quality, brand name AV carts, TV carts, laptop carts and more! You name it; they have something to wheel it around.”

“So you are saying that we can buy chic new AV carts so the kids don’t have to be so ashamed to wheel them around? Carts which are free from the relentless squeaks and squeals that hammer into the children’s brains? I can’t believe it…MoreAVCarts.com is the answer…finally!” Marcus Wibble was ecstatic. He could now rest easily knowing that Wibble Syndrome had a cure at MoreAVCarts.com.

Two officially documented cases of WS in which the symptoms were immediate and incurable:

1992:

Debbie Lalane is woefully chosen to haul the 18 years old TV cart from her classroom to the classroom down the hall after a viewing of a deeply moving episode of Blossom in which Six suffers an eating disorder. She approaches the heavy, closed door of the receiving classroom and knocks lightly, so as not to cause any more intrusion than necessary. Her heart begins beating furiously, her hands trembling uncontrollably, ears hot, sweat dripping; the teacher opens the door.

“Come right in” she instructs Debbie, cheerfully enough.

As Debbie begins her terrifying journey from the open doorway to the corner of the room, heaving this horrid contraption which spews deafening squeals at the slightest touch, she suddenly stops. She begins to tear at her hair furious, pulling out chunks and throwing them to the floor, all the while laughing hysterically; a look of manic emptiness in her brown eyes.

1996:

Chris Mclizzle is asked by his teacher to lug the projector cart from his classroom to the teachers lounge downstairs. This incident was particularly severe as the pressure to see inside the teachers’ lounge intensified the effects dramatically. Chris towed the projector like a 10 ton anvil towards the elevator, his heart beat increasing exponentially the entire way. As he made his way down, watching the third and second floors light up and finally the first, he began to feel nauseous, fighting down the heat of vomit while trying to wipe the sweat from his forehead as fast as it was being produced. He realized that he looked like Chris Farley after a Matt Foley sketch, but could do nothing to stop the profuse perspiration or the fiery red cheeks. He walked towards the teachers’ lounge wondering if this might be the time when he finally sneaks a peek inside when he sees the receiving teacher, Mr. Smith, walking down the hall.

“Just follow me Chris” said Mr. Smith.

Chris obeyed and followed Mr. Smith towards his classroom. Mr. Smith walked in gaily, smiling at his students as he nestled into his chair while Chris hesitated at the door, terror painted allover his face.

“Come on in,” he welcomed.

So Chris stepped forward and as soon as he did, a flood of urine quickly stained his khaki’s. He began muttering nonsense to himself, low, frightening babble interspersed with horrendous screams for help. He pushed the projector cart to the ground and began scratching at the chalkboard repeatedly. We lost him.