TEMPLE OF ZEUS—’Twas a day most ordinary in the most extravagant food shoppe in Ithaca: Doth Great Temple of Zeus. For Junior Owen Sowerberry ’25, the price to feed a troublesome caffeine addiction was damn near impossible. Upon the realization that he had spent his last pittance to wash his ragged work clothes, Sowerberry realized he had no choice but to beg the patrons of Zeus to spare a little kindness for a struggling young boy of just 20 years. A pathetic orphan with only two parents.
“It was really fucking weird dude,” revealed Daniel Claypole, the first student approached by Sowerberry. “He came up to me all pathetic with his head down and said ‘please sir can you spare sevenpence-halfpenny so that I can afford to feed myself sir.’ So naturally I responded ‘how dare you speak to me with such intonation yer idle young ruffian. I’ll whop yer if yer asketh me again.’ After that he got the hint and fucked off. What a freak.”
Hardened by the sting of rejection and by the sharp pain of starvation, Sowerberry reached a new resolve. “I musth do what I said I would ne-er do when I first became a dirty street beggar nearly six minutes ago. But six minutes ago I didn’t suffer from a minor caffeine headache. I must picketh a pocket.”
With heavy hearts and scornful stares, passersby watched as Sowerberry trudged to a nearby student and plucked a five dollar bill from his wallet, nearly half the price of Sowerberry’s beverage of choice. They continued watching as CUPD leapt into action, chasing Sowerberry around with clubs drawn. “THIEF! DRAG HIM TO THE STOCKS,” they shouted in unison “HANG HIM BY HIS THUMBS.”
Tragic is the tale of poor little Orphan Owen, cast out by his parents with nothing but the clothes on his back, the ones in his suitcase, a full meal plan, an apartment in Student Agencies, some gas money, and a little spending money because his parents aren’t fucking monsters and Owen got like a 3.6 GPA last year which is SO much harder than you think it is. If only society took pity on its most vulnerable.
Hey friends. Just thought I’d check in because all week, there’s just been one, singular question on my mind. Seriously, this puppy’s been keeping me up all night. If you die, what happens to your BRBs?
Is it like a next-of-kin thing? Like a “oh hey, sorry your brother died, but at least you’re set on pasta bowls for life” kinda deal? Or can you pick a person like a whole bequeathing “I’ve summoned you all here today with some bad news, who wants free sesame chicken for a semester” kinda joint? Sorry, I know it’s a trivial question, but I really wanna get to the bottom of this one.
I mean, really, if your BRBs go nowhere after you die, that’s just good money being left on the table. At least send it to, like, students in need or something? Or maybe it could be like a raffle, sort of a “millionth person who gets a salad at Trillium’s wins all of this dead student’s BRBs” kinda deal. Or you could wait for them to build up and give everyone free lunch on the last day of classes like a “hey, it’s the last day of fifth grade so we’re having a school wide pizza party even though it’s being funded by dead people’s money” kinda deal?
Or, and now hear me out on this one, is it like a “Hunger Games-style people fight to the death over the remaining pool of dead people’s BRBs and then pool also gets larger when people die in the Hunger Games because those are dead students too” kinda situation, or more of a “we put numbers on a bunch of turtles and people choose turtles and whoever’s turtle wins gets all this dead kids food money to spend at Mattin’s on deflated quesadillas” sort of competition?
Anyways, I’d appreciate a swift reply on this one, not like a “oh, great question but I have nothing to add to the discussion” sort of reply, but more of an “I’m an ‘in-the-know’ kind of person” that can provide an “I’ve got some knowledge for you” kind of response.
DAY HALL — The Cornell administration recently announced that the newest editions of the Big Red Bucks will feature a woman on the card for the first time.
“We pride ourselves in being a progressive university that always keeps up with the times,” said Anderson Blackwell, head of student life, in statement dictating a duty to stand up for social change, “Honoring Tubman’s accomplishment is important to the university, and we love social causes. I remember back when we decided to add ethnic minorities to our website photos, and now look at us. We have a woman on the BRB.”
Students and faculty had been protesting the lack of a racially diverse pioneer of civil rights on the Big Red Buck for several months, and the Cornell administration happily agreed to mint the new design during the next iteration of printing.
“I’m really proud to be a Cornellian right now,” said Hugo Sinclair ’18. “We were among the first universities to let in African Americans, and now we’re the first to have a woman on our legal tender. Still progressive as always”
BECKER DINING HALL — In a new move to encourage the naughty children not to eat in a most rapacious manner, Cornell Dining will begin the new “All We Allow You to Eat” meal plan this semester. Under the restrictive dining option, only one bowl of gruel shall be appropriated to each boy and girl, with an extra spoonful of cream on the most special of occasions.
“We give our residents only as much as they need,” said Miss Mann, Madame of Cornell Dining, “not an ounce more. If e’en one of them comes asking for another scoop of porridge, it’s straight to bed with them!”
Many of the children in such a hungry and destitute situation are upset with their new meal plan, becoming so voracious with hunger as to dream for even the slightest morsel.
“All I wanted, sir, was a slice of the bread ma’am keeps in the cupboard,” said Edwin Swubble, a boy of diminutive stature, whose growth may have continued unimpeded had his nourishing been sufficient, “I thought I had been good, done all me work for ages, but instead I got sent away with no supper just for asking. I nearly ate my roommate that night!”
Though the new meal plan has left many unsatisfied, the bony, starving children can unanimously agree that cooking for oneself is a far less desirable circumstance.
DUFFIELD HALL – After swiping his ID card and anxiously staring the Mattin’s Café register, mechanical engineer Ben Hornstein ’19 was pleased to discover that he had scored slightly above a standard deviation of the mean BRB balance.
“It’s such a relief to see all my work pay off,” commented Hornstein, excitedly clutching his Chipotle Chicken Wrap. “I haven’t been doing all that well this semester, and it wasn’t until I saw my BRB score after buying Ivy Room sushi that I realized I needed to get my act together.”
“I always hear about the massive dining dollar deflation at Cornell, compared to other Ivy League schools like Harvard,” said Hornstein. “All of my lunches are super intense this semester, and the dining program here in general really isn’t a joke.”
It was also reported that students who scored two standard deviations below the mean have already started dropping BRBs completely and switching to an easier City Bucks meal plan.