^ Skip Tilly on day nine of quarantine. Photo by Sue Ellen Tilly.

SMALL TOWN, USAーAs all Davidson students know, social distancing has been a challenge for people all over the globe. People have coped with the loneliness and stress in different ways, ranging from picking up macramé again to binge-eating bulk ramen to saying, sure, I’ll give my marriage a second go. However, The Yowl received word of one particularly disturbing quarantine ordeal that a ‘Cat of our own experienced.

According to Skip Tilly ‘23, his break started about the same as everyone else’s. He had the standard tearful goodbye in Rich Circle and cried while listening to “See You Again” in the Uber to the airport. (Usually, he would’ve covered up his sobs with coughs, but given the state of things, he figured that wasn’t the best idea.) Once home, he successfully regressed to his high-school self by moping in his room and yelling “Go away, mom! I don’t want any food if it’s not the Union Red Line Special!” when offered dinner. However, after the first day, Tilly reported that he was feeling a little better and was even able to muster up the energy to do eight of the ten push-ups for the Instagram push-up challenge.

This apparent improvement proved to be short-lived, however. As the days passed, Tilly found himself scrolling through his camera roll upwards of twenty times a day, checking social media obsessively for the chance to glimpse one of his friends’ faces, and crying hysterically when the Davidson Confessions account was deleted, saying, “Sure, people were kinda getting aggressive and a cappella was really taking a beating, but it was just, like, my last link to campus, you know?”

On Day Ten of quarantine, Tilly reported experiencing serious psychotic symptoms. Tilly himself blacked out for most of the day, so The Yowl contacted his mother for more details.

“I came upstairs to see if I could coax my Skippy to eat breakfast–I had made pancakes shaped like Lux’s face–but when I peeked in his room I saw him staring at himself in his mirror chanting, ‘Once a Wildcat, always a Wildcat!’ over and over and then laughing deliriously,” Sue Ellen Tilly sniffled as she recounted the trauma.

Sue Ellen then tried to talk to Tilly, showing him the pancakes she had made, but Tilly was already headed for the door, babbling about how he and da bois were headed down to F that night. Tilly walked toward the front door, and Sue Ellen panicked. She threw the plate of pancakes in the air and tackled Tilly, holding him down while quickly grabbing her phone from her pocket. In a truly Herculean feat, she kept Tilly subdued while also replying to one of the 15 emails from Carol Quillen about community and solidarity and other nice things, requesting the one thing she knew that would calm Tilly. Luckily, Quillen was really on her shit that day. Within minutes, Sue Ellen’s phone rang. “Honey, this call is for you,” Sue Ellen said and handed Tilly the phone.

Tilly regained consciousness just as he heard a beautiful male voice say, “Skip? Hey, man. This is Steph Curry.”

Tilly reported that he almost dropped the phone, but he did manage to squeak out a “Hello Mr. Steph. I mean Mr. Curry” before Steph frickin Curry continued.

“Listen, buddy, I know this is a hard time, but you just gotta trust that this will all be okay. We’re gonna get through this together. I believe in you,” Steph frickin Curry said.

Tilly, realizing that he had been saved from a very dark place by his hero, said, “Thanks, Mr. Curry. And, hey, while I’ve got you on the line, would you mind saying one thing for me?”

Even through the phone, Tilly could hear Steph frickin Curry’s eyes roll, but the star player nonetheless replied, “Sure, Skip, I know what you want. ‘I love Commons!’”