The Crip's Club Magic Clubhouse

20260720

Prompt from Eiiri’s Prompt Foundry, “Pride 2 Disability Boogaloo”.

At first, everyone thought it hilarious that someone had put a “crip’s club” sign on the unused utility cupboard. Students took pictures. Laughed. Posted jokey memes on the school chat boards - and edgier memes on channels adults couldn’t monitor.
There was a fair crowd present when Tabitha rolled through, head held high.
“Hey, look!” A student shouted. “You’ve got a clubhouse!”
“Uh-huh.” Tabitha gave them all a thin smile - then rolled up to the door and opened it, to reveal an opulent lounge that had to be at least six times bigger than the pokey closet.
Before everyone finished gawping, much less scraped their wits back together, Tabitha had rolled into the room and let the door shut behind her.
That broke the spell, and three people collided trying to grab the doorhandle at once. It opened without resistance… to show the closet.
“What the fuck??”
“Sorry. You’re not in the club.”
Everyone looked up to find Jimmy leaning on his crutches and smirking at them. “You know the rules, right? You can only go in a clubhouse if you’re in that club.”
“Nobody else got a magic clubhouse!” “This isn’t fair!” “Who said you can do this?? I bet you’re gonna get in trouble!”
“Everyone else gets the normal clubhouses.” Jimmy scoffed pointedly. “This one’s for people who can’t get up those stupid steps. That’s why the school said we could have it. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
He ignored the hubbub and pointed at the door, which swung open, sweeping the people standing there aside and revealing the lounge, where Tabitha was stretched out on a sofa with headphones on. Jimmy briskly marched through, letting the door swing shut - and ignoring how the closest student tried to dart in and bounced off the threshold.
There was an uproar. Every member of staff was bombarded with questions and demands. The head finally put out a statement that the magic had been donated, and could not now be amended.
“THIS ISN’T FAIR!!”
A cost-saving measure had spawned uprising. Students were planning protests. Parents kept coming in droves to indignantly complain about their children being stuck with second-rate clubhouses.
And, in a comfortably furnished extra-planer space (complete with its own, fully-accessible toilet), the disabled students happily minded their own business.
Attempts to prevent them accessing their clubhouse were futile; all they had to do was stick a sign - or even just a sticky note - reading “crip’s club” onto any school door and the connection opened. No one not on the club roll could cross the threshold, and that list was kept securely in the clubhouse.
They’d already told the head they were happy to give it up… IF the normal clubhouses were made equally accessible.
“Fair’s fair.”
Desperate calculations and surveys were underway, trying to figure out how much it would cost to replace the stairs with ramps, or perhaps fit a lift, or… and how quickly could this be done??
But that wasn’t the crip’s club’s problem.

Prompt was “Space for us”.