Cornell Hunger Relief Stall Oddly Reluctant to Share Candy on Desk at Club Fest

BARTON HALL—Recently appointed Cornell Hunger Relief officer Mandy Jackson ‘24 made waves at the club fair with a slap heard ‘round the Barton hall track, after victim Matt Long ‘27 tried to grab a coveted pack of Reese’s Pieces. 

He recounted the harrowing experience, “Ya it was crazy, I was just following my usual club fair freeloading procedure, next thing I know my hand was loudly slapped away. The place was shaken.” Reports reveal that at that moment, every Asian dance group came to a halt, the fire juggling and straw club catastrophe resolved itself, and the sword club decided on non violence. 

“Of course this wasn’t my first plan of action,” said Jackson, defending her controversial behavior. “I tried staring him down and creating an awkward guilty silence but it just wasn’t doing it. This little cretin wouldn’t even scan the QR code that doesn’t even work half the time; so frustrating, we’d be better off doing just paper sign ups at this point…wait what were we talking about?” 

“Right, listen, if we give out candy to every loser who can walk, this system would never work,” added other club officers. “We look for the perfect mix of guilt, longing, desire, and shyness in a candy candidate. Our favorites are the ones that we can give a five minute monologue at, have them begrudgingly scan the QR code, and end by not giving them the candy after,” they cackled in an evil manner. 

“So do you really think it’s fair to deny us joy like that at a time like this?” countered Jackson. Though it was unclear what time she was talking about, her statement gives true insight into the difficulties of being a club officer in these trying times.

Stickless Big Round Puck Hockey Team Wins Match

BARTELS RINK—Enthusiastic and slightly confused Cornell sports fans packed the stands this past weekend at what some called “the strangest hockey game ever.”

“I’d never seen anything like it,” shared Connel McMillen ‘25. “The ice rink was rectangular and the players didn’t have hockey sticks. The puck was round and orange and they sort of bounced it around the rink? The biggest difference though was probably that this hockey team won their game! Super exciting changes!”

The coach of Cornell’s alternative hockey team shared that he had never seen such a turnout for a game but is thrilled that the student body is starting to take notice of other talented groups on campus besides Cornell’s ice hockey team.

“To be honest, I didn’t realize that Cornell had other hockey teams. But after this weekend’s game, I have really gotten into stickless-big-round-puck hockey and even other hockeys like kick-round-puck-with-feet hockey and row-long-boat-fast hockey,” commented Aaron Patil ‘27.

Even Cornell’s regular puck-with-stick-on-ice hockey team showed their support for their stickless, orange puck wielding brothers this past Saturday, with signs that read “Hockey Rules! Basketball Drools!” A heartwarming sentiment, although students were a bit puzzled by the second statement.

Weather Conditions Perfect for Making FWOOMP Sound Effect Before Busting Your Ass on Icy Sidewalk

ITHACA—As winter recess comes to an end, travel-weary Cornellians return to campus by the busload, only to be greeted by what one local weather enthusiast describes as “the ideal environment for some really funny shit to happen.”

Bryan Trast, a native Ithacan and self-proclaimed “Climate Harmonic Analyst,” looks forward to this time every year: “The snowfall, the windchill, the almost-but-not-quite shoveled sidewalks… The conditions are perfect for watching unsuspecting victi–I mean students–eat shit on their way to and from class.”

As the founder and head researcher of Ithacans for Climate-Related Levity (formerly Ithacans for Climate-Related Injury), Trast operates a network of repurposed trail cameras and ultra-sensitive microphones to capture what he calls “gaiety in its rawest form.”

“I’m always watching,” Trast murmurs as he presents his video collection of weather-related accidents*. “The SLOOPs and the SLEEEPs and the FWEEEPs are all well and good. My personal favorite is the SHWOOP–but that’s self-explanatory. The KRRACK is for the refined palette… But the FWOOMPs… rarely are conditions ever so slippery, so dangerous, so perfect…”

In preparation for the coming season, ICRL’s R&D department is hard at work researching ways to reduce the effectiveness of road salt and increase the incline of walkways “everywhere.”

*Editor’s note: ICRL’s administration insists there is “no such thing” as a weather-related accident.

Guy Wearing “This Is What a Cornell Engineer Looks Like” Shirt Definitely Didn’t Need to Clarify

DUFFIELD HALL—Last week, Bruce Reid ‘26, a Cornell mechanical engineering student, proudly sported his “This Is What a Cornell Engineer Looks Like” shirt around campus. However, Reid’s peers claim that they didn’t require his extra clarification to figure out his major.

“Oftentimes, images portray an idea better than words,” said Jabari White ‘25, who saw Reid leaving a Phillips Hall restroom without using soap to wash his hands. “The mysterious orange stain covering the lower half of his shirt and its accompanying smell communicated more than a slogan ever could,” White added.

Jillian Abhrahams ‘25, one of two women Reid is familiar with, concurred.

“Yeah, he wears that shirt pretty often…for days at a time, and without washing it,” Abrahams said. “But just look at him, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist.”

Despite criticism, the engineering student defends his choice of wardrobe, arguing that it is never okay to judge people for their appearances.

“Making assumptions about people is never okay,” Reid responded. “I am more than an engineering major–I am also minoring in computer science.”

Pyramid Scheme? Consulting Club Member Sells You Six Donuts, Encourages You To Find Six Friends To Sell Them To

DUFFIELD HALL—Feeling tricked after spending her first few weeks of consulting club membership as a Krispy-Kreme saleswoman instead of practicing insider trading tactics, Emma Nichols ‘27 formulated a strategy to reach her sales quota early. She developed this donut-distributing plan based on advice from her mentor at CCCBD360, who sold out of their stale boxes instantly by telling potential customers they could profit by selling each donut in a half-dozen to six other fools instead of eating the entire box alone in their dorm.

“We’ve put an ungodly amount of funds towards donuts this semester instead of our weekly sake-bombing socials. All the top donut vendors have been selling in bulk to business people with entrepreneurial drive, so our fine consulting club, of course, had to take part in their success,” the jaded mentor advised Nichols, a recent recruit who has yet to learn the ways of donut dealing. “Just tell the next broke-looking person to walk by to buy a half-dozen and sell each donut to six friends, if they have any, who can each cut their donut into six slices and then sell each one to six more dumbasses!”

Following her consultation with such an experienced donut distributor, Nichols pitched the business opportunity to two hungry students at the table, who were already eager to get their greasy hands on some more raspberry-filled dough.

“All you need to profit is some entrepreneurial spirit and a small buy-in of just ten dollars a box! Join CCCBD360’s donut dynasty while you still can! It’s easy and helps the great cause of money and business or something!” After hearing her enticing speech, a dough-dealing crowd gathered to partake in the donut dynasty.

Within minutes, the market for donut chunks among students had become oversaturated, with friendless Krispy-Kreme purchasers desperately wandering between tables, offering donut leftovers for sale. From whole boxes to the mere sticky chunks that remained, not one profitable crumb would be left to waste.

“It’s So Hard to Make New Friends” Complains Guy Who Follows Exact Same Routine Every Day

NORTH CAMPUS—Cornellians are privileged to have access to such a wide variety of unique opportunities, and new students are always eager to take advantage of the multitude of offerings. Many freshmen have already forged new friendships through the abundance of extracurriculars that this university provides. Tragically, the dream college life has not materialized for one unlucky freshman, who is struggling to find his home at Cornell despite his best efforts to adhere to a strict routine every single day. 

“I’ve tried to reach out to people, but everyone here seems so closed-off,” lamented Shane Conley ‘27. “I usually make extended eye-contact with a girl I walk past on the Slope at 3:46 PM on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but today she wasn’t even there.”

Evidently, Conley hasn’t yet realized that his regimented daily routine may actually be inhibiting his social life. “Yesterday, after I found some kid sitting in MY spot, I panicked, pushed him off the chair, and dragged him across the floor to another table,” he admitted. “In my defense, I thought everyone knew that the Cocktail Lounge had assigned seating.” 

Variety might be the spice of life for most people, but Conley’s unwavering commitment to monotony, loneliness, and boredom is certainly impressive. Despite dissatisfaction with his admittedly pitiful social life, he staunchly refuses to attend club meetings or initiate conversations with his peers, arguing, “it requires effort to do so. And they might be weird.”

When asked if he has hobbies and interests that could save him from his dreary, repetitive life, Conley responded, “I love movies. I can never get enough of Groundhog Day.

A Capone? Friend Includes Increasingly Threatening Photos of Parents, Siblings in Concert Invitations

ARTS QUAD—Police surrounded Klarman Hall today in the biggest organized crime bust in Cornell’s history. The tens of attendees at The Dons’ third annual a cappella performance were shocked as officers stormed the stage and started making arrests instead of beatboxing. 

The big bust was made in part due to the bravery of one particularly self-respecting sophomore, Rebecca Niles ‘25, who politely declined an invite to the concert instead of simply ignoring it. “I didn’t mean any offense,” Niles explained, “I just didn’t have time to watch an hour-long show of men I barely know spitting on each other and making fart noises.” 

Unfortunately for Niles, The Dons have a long reputation of not taking “no” for an answer, with unconfirmed reports of coercion, ranging from advertising free food to guilt tripping, stretching back to the group’s origin. “They told me it was an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Polly Tarth ‘23 reported, reminiscing about The Dons’ first performance, “But like… it actually really was.”

The group’s reign of terror came to a well-deserved end after one member overstepped in his intimidation tactics. “It started with a picture from my Mom’s Instagram,” recounted Niles, “which I thought was weird but maybe just a bad attempt at flirting. But then I started getting photos I had never seen before: my little siblings outside of their school, my mom crying alone in her bedroom, my dad in a hotel room with his secretary, Monica. I started to get worried.”

Refusing to succumb to duress, Niles reported the event to authorities. Detective Pangborn, who has been struggling to build a case against The Dons for years, was ready for his big breakthrough: “It’s really hard to convict on the basis of being annoying. But being annoying and creepy is an easy 25 to life.”

The disappearance of The Dons from the a cappella scene has granted students with but a brief reprieve, as rival groups such as With The Fishes and The Molls vie for the remains of The Don’s now destitute empire.

Hordes of Soulless Undead Converge at Morgan Stanley Networking Session

STATLER HALL–Many were gripped by shock and awe today as what looked to be a procession of animated undead corpses made their way across central campus. Upon further investigation by campus officials, it seemed that the would-be arbiters of Armageddon turned out to be attending an investment banking information session.

A witness to the ghastly advance, John Balbus ‘24, had this to say about his experience:

“I was leaving the library in Statler and then I saw them. Hundreds of bodies, all slowly filling in like floodwater seeping into a basement. You couldn’t feel a single drop of warmth or humanity. One looked directly at me, a vast black abyss in his eyes… I couldn’t run, I couldn’t breathe, I was frozen. I thought I was drowning.” 

Some reported that the mass of unholy thirsted for single-family homes and pension funds. Others heard groans emanating from the crowd, including what seemed to be the words “bulge bracket”, “superday”, and “discounted cash flow”. So far, no injuries or casualties have been reported, save for a faculty member who was mistaken for a visiting Morgan Stanley banker, and was subsequently overrun by a group of living-dead asking about “firm culture”.

A passerby near the end of the supernatural session, Cecil Stanley ‘26, had this comment:

“I saw one of the creepiest parts of that day… At the end of whatever those things were doing, every single one went up to this other zombie up front. Each and every one took their hand, shoved it into the hand of the other zombie, and then vigorously vibrated their hand. I would call it a handshake, but it looked more like some kind of stabbing and gutting. The line was so long it blocked off my route, so I had to hide and watch this…ritual…for 2 hours.”

Onlookers say that the crowd dispersed after 3 to 4 hours, and most slowly wandered back into the night. Officials checked gravesites and found that almost all still had their bodies buried properly, so the origin of this rising is as of yet unknown. As a precautionary measure, students have been told to stay away from Statler Hall, Warren Hall, and Mann Library during evening and night hours.

Cornell Abolishes PE Requirement, Extends Clock Tower Detour Instead

HO PLAZA—Celebrations that Cornell abolished its physical education requirement were short lived amid the university’s announcement that it would be extending the clock tower detour as a replacement. The new detour spans several miles and even requires walking up the slope.

When pressed about their decision to extend the detour, Cornell officials explained that the previous detour “was not rigorous enough” and that it was “embarrassing students couldn’t handle walking an extra 10 feet to go around the clock tower”. 

Some students were taken aback by the new detour, which seeks to emulate a real physical education class: “There were people threatening to make us run laps,” said Katarina Christianus ‘24. “I was making my way up the slope when all of the sudden a middle aged man in athleisure started screaming ‘Move it or lose it, ladies!’.” Christianus claims she speaks for all students when she says she “would really like to go back to the Helen Newman basement, please.”

Other students who thought they schemed their way out of introductory swimming were horrified at the lochness monster in the lagoon spanning the second part of the detour. Charlotte Melle ‘25 described her commute to Milstein Hall as “The saddest, least athletic triathlon recorded in modern history.”  

Though students are obviously unhappy with the recent changes, officials are thrilled to remind students the clock tour detour is only temporary, the normal route through Ho Plaza will be reinstated when the construction is completed in 2-50 years.

Oliver Twist? Student Must Picketh a Pocket to Afford a Zeus Latte

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.