FOREST HILL, ONTARIO – Constable Rod Flameling of the DARE program has one message for the Kindergarten class of Oakview Private School, located in the affluent suburb of Forest Hill, Ontario – “Dusters are busters!”
An active volunteer for the DARE program since its inception in 1983, Flameling has adhered to the motto “never too young”, and took it upon himself to book an entire morning at the prestigious private school to warn Miss Redgrave’s Kindergarten class about what he considers “the scourge of the playground” – the powerful dissociative drug PCP, or “Angel Dust”.
At 8:43am, Flameling marched into the classroom, and wrote “1(1-phenylcyclohexyl)piperidine” on the whiteboard, after which he stood in stoic silence for no fewer than 3 minutes, making prolonged and individual eye contact with each kindergartener in the room. It was when young Timothy Jenkins started to cry that he finally broke his silence.
“Hey kids!” said Flameling, now pacing from side to side. “You’ve got it pretty good, don’t you? You go to a great school in a great town, and just look at this classroom! Bet teacher lets you play all the newest floppy disks on those computer terminals over there” he continued, gesturing to a table of brand-new IMacs.
To a sea of confused and increasingly uncomfortable young faces, Flameling continued his speech. “You may think life is all about floppy disks, Teddy Ruxpins and GO-BOTS, but I’ll tell you right now, it’s not all Bonkers and Fun-Dip out there” he added with a stern expression on his face. “You’ll be facing an enemy this year – an enemy intent on exploding your brain – and I’m here today to help you beat IT before it beats YOU”.
Flameling then removed his retractable baton from his utility belt and smashed it against what he had previously written on the whiteboard, causing an immediate torrent of tears from no fewer than 6 students. “Chemists know it as Phencyclidine, but the pusher man will try and hook you on it with different names – ‘Rocket Fuel’, ‘Superwack’, ‘Vitamin Wizz-Wang’ – but more than likely, ‘Angel Dust’.”
The Constable then went into a 14-minute lecture about the pharmokinetics of Angel Dust, focusing heavily on the covalent bonds of its chemical structure and its actions on the NMDA receptors of the brain. Flameling concluded that the drug, a single molecule of which has not been within a 70 kilometer radius of the school since 1982, was “inevitably going to be 'pushed'” on the students within the next year, and that they had to take preparatory steps to avoid being “seduced by the powder of death”.
Sensing the terror of her students, more than half of whom were either crying or hiding under their desks by this point, teacher Miss Redgrave intervened and suggested that Constable Flameling lighten the tone of his message.
“OK Kids, lets have some fun now! Who is up for a little role-play?” asked Flameling, to stunned silence. He then put on a pair of dark sunglasses and a trench coat with more than 50 pockets in the interior lining. “Line up kids! I’m a pusher, and I’m trying to kill you with my death-dealing wares! What do you say to the dust pusher when he approaches you by the monkey bars?”
He then insisted that each student, in single-file, come to the front of the room and recite his catchphrase “Dusters are Busters!”, and in fact did not let them return to their desks until they did so.
As the students now sobbed despondently, begging to be reunited with their parents, household pets and/or stuffed animals, Flameling mercifully announced that he would be leaving, but that he would be returning the following week to discuss the imminent danger of Quaaludes.