Yesterday afternoon, Dan Mohr’s history class at Jefferson Elementary in St. Cloud was dozing off as their teacher desperately tried yet again to make the lesson fun. At one point, he even called the Founding Fathers a totally “lit squad” but failed to elicit even a single smile or nod.
As an absolute last-ditch effort to gain their attention, Mohr stopped mid-sentence and straight-up yelled, “Benjamin Franklin invented Fortnite!”
The student’s ears immediately perked up. The gamble had paid off. At first, Mohr’s plan was to say “just kidding!” and move on but the bright looks of curiosity on the kids’ faces proved too much and Mohr kept going—with absolutely no exit plan—and only the vaguest understanding of what Fortnite even is to begin with.
“Yeah, obviously it wasn’t exactly like the Fortnite we know today,” stammered Mr. Mohr, frantically racking his brain for a way to keep the con going, “but it still had all the dances and the…um…parachutes”.
When he thought he might be out of the woods and could move on to discussing the Franklin stove, student Emma Carson, 11, raised her hand and asked, “did they even have computers back then?”
“At that point the words just started flowing out of me.” said Mohr, “I told them that instead of computers, Franklin’s original Fortnite was played by pulling a series of strings that controlled an intricate system of wax dolls”.
“I thought he was doing another one of his jokes,” said Mason Harper, 10, “but then he went on and on and on about how you could customize your wax puppets with different skins and travel around finding little crates filled with weapons made of corn cobs and I thought, ‘why would someone even make this up?’”
By the time he was interrupted by the school bell, Mohr had reportedly spent over 30 straight minutes explaining in detail the game’s mechanics and backstory – even flying dangerously close to the sun by claiming the Revolutionary War started when Franklin called George III ‘a noob’ through the pigeon-powered in-game chat.
“As soon as class got out, the adrenaline high faded and now I’m realizing there’s no way I can just move on to a normal lesson tomorrow like none of this happened,” explained a now anxiety-ridden Mohr to reporters, “so I guess I’m going to be up all night writing a textbook chapter about how Paul Revere had spider powers or something…”