Dominik Mikulaschek (born in Linz in 1983) writes children's books that you start reading "just one chapter" of – and suddenly it's late. He loves puzzles that can actually be solved, rules that can be politely ignored (if necessary) and stories in which friendship is stronger than any clipboard. His adventures are exciting, but never too scary: they're about discovery, about sticking together – and about that tingly feeling when you realise: something's not right here... and we're the first to notice.
Dominik Mikulaschek
Mission: Class Photo
Funny school story for ages 8 and up | When everything goes wrong
tredition GmbH
© 2026 Dominik Mikulaschek
Printing and distribution on behalf of the author:
tredition GmbH, Heinz–Beusen–Stieg 5, 22926 Ahrensburg, Germany
This work, including its parts, is protected by copyright. The author is responsible for the content. Any use without his consent is prohibited. Publication and distribution are carried out on behalf of the author, who can be reached at: Dominik Mikulaschek, Holzwurmweg 5, 4040 Linz, Austria.
Contact address in accordance with the EU Product Safety Regulation:
Chapter 1 – The photographer with the clipboard
Mondays at Regelberg Primary School usually smelled of freshly mopped linoleum and the fear of unannounced vocabulary tests, but today there was a pungent smell of hairspray and chemical flashlights in the air. Milo Mertens (9) stopped at the school gate and watched the large grey van that sat like a tank in the teachers' car park. On the side was an official seal from the ARR, the Office for Peace and Order, and underneath it was emblazoned in bold letters: PROJECT PERFECT PICTURE. It was class photo day, the only day of the year when even the most stubborn chewing gum chewers tried not to puff up their cheeks like hamsters, so as not to end up on the list of troublemakers. Right next to the glass door hung a new sign that looked as serious as if it had eaten bad mood for breakfast: "SMILE ONLY AFTER PERMISSION". Below it was a red stamp announcing that this picture was the official property of the "Department of Image & Behaviour" and that any form of uncontrolled facial expression was strictly prohibited. Milo adjusted his satchel and felt an uneasy tingling in his fingertips, which he always got when the authorities got involved and tried to organise away the fun. "Turbo, what are you doing with your face?" Milo asked when he spotted his best friend Tarik "Turbo" Tan frozen like a statue next to the rubbish bin. Turbo pulled the corners of his mouth up so far that you could almost count his tonsils, while his eyelids twitched dangerously and he looked as if he were electrified. "That's official grin level 4," Turbo squeezed out without parting his teeth, which made his voice sound like the creaking of an old door. "I'm practising my seventeen official smiles so the photographer doesn't think I'm a messy student and kick me out of the row right away," he continued, trying to wink at the same time. According to the new ARR handbook for photo discipline, , a smile that was too wide was already a violation of the school's symmetry regulations and could be punished with disciplinary points. Fina Fuchs knelt a little further away on the floor and stared so intently at a piece of neon yellow tape that it looked as if she wanted to move it into another dimension through hypnosis. "Look at that, Milo," she said, pointing to a tiny, carved cross right next to the mark, putting on her detective look. "If it's marked, it's intentional," she added her famous running gag and immediately made a note in her notebook. Milo bent down and saw that there were small crosses and arrows all over the asphalt, looking like a complicated pattern for giants, pointing the way to the gym. "Maybe it's the runway for particularly small aliens who want to be in the photo today?" suggested Turbo, who had just switched his smile to grin level 7. However, the new level made him look more like he had eaten a whole lemon without sugar and was now trying to think of something nice. Fina shook her head and noted the exact position of each mark, because for her there were no coincidences, only poorly disguised plans by the authorities. Chaos was already in full swing in the gym, but Inspector Ordnung immediately put a stop to it with a whistle that sounded shrill as an offended steam locomotive in rush hour traffic. In the middle of the room stood the photographer, a man with a face as grey as a rainy Tuesday afternoon, clutching a clipboard as if the salvation of the world depended on the perfect alignment of the students. Next to him was a technical monstrosity that reminded Milo of an oversized toaster, but equipped with flashing sensors and a laser eye. "This is the new Generation 4.0 photo scanner," announced Inspector Ordnung in a voice that smelled of dusty file folders and unwashed socks. The scanner emitted a menacing hum and a red light scanned the surroundings as if searching for the smallest crumb or a forbidden laugh. "It beeps at every crooked grin, every wrong head posture and every form of too much personality," the inspector explained proudly. He checked a list labelled "PROJECT PERFECT PICTURE: SEATING ARRANGEMENT" and smoothed his suit. Mrs. Krambeutel, their class teacher, was desperately trying to tame Turbo's hair with a comb that looked like it had been through several world wars. "We all want you to look good in the photo and for your parents to recognise you, children," she said with a concerned undertone. Milo watched as the photographer stared nervously at his watch and constantly drew new marks on the floor with chalk that made absolutely no sense to normal people. The photo scanner suddenly emitted a shrill "BEEP" as Leni walked past it because her braids were not sticking out from her head at exactly the same angle. "Asymmetry detected! Individual expression exceeds the limit!" boomed the scanner's tinny voice, prompting Inspector Ordnung to immediately make a note on his clipboard. Milo looked over at Fina, who had just discovered that caretaker Kratz was setting up a huge screen in the back of the gym that contained a suspicious number of hidden symbols and lines. "Whoever controls the background controls the image, and whoever controls the image controls the memory," Kratz muttered as Milo slipped past him. His eyes flashed as mysteriously as an old torch whose batteries were almost dead but still had enough power for a warning. Milo sensed that this class photo would not be a normal photo, but a mission in which every smile could be a trap and every seat a dungeon. The photographer now raised his clipboard and called out in a voice that sounded as if he had just eaten a packet of thumbtacks for breakfast: "Class 4b, get ready for the first official photo discipline test according to paragraph 12!" Milo saw Turbo trying to put on his smile number 11, but it looked more like a suppressed hiccup with wide-open eyes . The photo scanner was already flickering dangerously and casting red warning lights on the wall as if a disaster were imminent. Outside the gym, the distant clattering of more ARR transporters could be heard, obviously delivering even more equipment for the PERFECT PICTURE PROJECT to nip any fun in the bud. Milo knew that the real battle for the class photo had only just begun and that they would need more than just a good comb to survive this chaos. The photographer now pressed a button on his device, and Milo watched in horror as the seating plan list on the clipboard changed as if by magic and new names jumped into the wrong places.
Chapter 2 – Turbo practises his official smile (too early)
Chapter 3 – Fina discovers the seating plan list
