For all those first years who deadbolted their doors, put in several pairs of ear plugs, and hid in the furthest corner of their room in order to avoid the herds of girls chanting nonsensical rhymes at seven in the morning or the gaggles of boys littered across the lawns of Catterson Pourt, waking up for Monday classes was probably much easier than for those who still had not recovered from Saturday’s events.
As these treasured souls awoke and made their way to Chambers, Wall, or (god forbid) Watson, which is objectively the worst academic building on campus, the walk might have seemed a little more empty than usual. As these first years took their seats in their first class of the day, they noticed about 90% (I don’t know the actual percentage of people for this, c’mon it’s a satire piece), of their classmates were missing. It wasn’t until the first 8:15 class that registrar Mandy Newberry checked the current class enrollments to find that almost every first year that had joined a fraternity, sorority, or eating house had dropped every single one of their classes.
After scouring email after email, wondering how this could have happened, it seems during the designated nap times between rallying points, every house had snuck in a message for all first years to log onto banner web and drop every class through add/drop. T&I professionals have marveled at the fact that the campus youngsters were able to do this when add/drop was decisively not open. Further investigation has revealed that professional hacker Julian Assange aided the social clubs in creating this massive class turnover. How the funds were acquired to recruit such an illustrious computer wizard is still a mystery to us at The Yowl™.
Frat Boy #1 had a good outlook on the whole situation though: “I mean really, what’s the big deal?” he said as he slipped on his Steph Curry jersey over a hoodie and turned his hat backwards, “So what if we don’t go to class? I’ve got my brotherhood and that’s all the education I need.” In a completely separate Outlook, an eating house attendee who started drinking at 6 AM the day of placement commented, “Sisterhood is forever, but classes are only for a semester.” Inspiring stuff.
As the registrar’s office struggles to regain access to Banner Web, first years have been seen enjoying a luxurious 3 hour commons brunch every day of the week and pre-gaming hall meetings just for the fun of it. All those who desperately emailed professors asking them to raise the ceiling for classes have been overjoyed to find that all classes are open to anyone who will listen. And for those seniors who still need to fill their Ways of Knowing requirements, this can only be seen as a blessing from the PCC gods.