Column: A memo: We’re all boxed in

A memo from Students for Student Involvement on Campus:

Fellow Colonials/hippos, the advancement of our University, which will certainly boost GW into the Top 50, and then the Top 10, has reached a dangerous impasse. And we are boxed in.

It’s certainly no fault of the University; our president has served us admirably, his warmth guiding us through cold District nights, soothing our fears with his calming voice and affable demeanor.

But still there are forces pushing against us. They are taking over our streets and abusing the legal system to stunt our growth. In clandestine canasta lodges and shuffleboard clubs, they plot against our very existence. That’s right. They are the residents of Foggy Bottom.

They are old. They buy up our land and shake their jowls and canes at us menacingly. A lot of them smell like old tuna and cornmeal; some are especially cornmeally. GW has been in Foggy Bottom for over 90 years, and while most Foggy Bottom residents were only teenagers back then, they’ve spent the four-and-a-half score years refusing to appreciate the prestige and commerce GW has brought to this community.

And as their bones have grown hollow, their unchecked expansion has grown dense, encroaching upon our beloved campus before our very eyes. Soon the effects will be devastating. Without swift action, we will become a campus of early bird specials and bingo nights. They will weaken us with soy tapioca and soon after, they will use their bad landscapes and pruning shears as weapons against us.

Resistance is nearly futile. The insurrection has already begun. Last Halloween we planned a trick-or-treat event in Foggy Bottom. They put razor blades in our candy apples. An 84-year-old woman gave us the finger.

Foggy Bottom residents may appear feeble and listless, but make no mistake about it, their dentures have been filed sharp and they are ready for blood. If you are alone in Foggy Bottom and a resident tries to approach you, you must be prepared to act without compunction; tag them with a shovel, and run for dear life before it’s too late. If a resident approaches you on campus, call UPD immediately or find a blue light because either will unquestionably save your life.

This is a battle and we can’t be na?ve. Our intelligence has gathered that the residents have designs to turn Kogan Plaza into a park for feeding pigeons; pigeons that Aramark so vitally needs in order to stay afloat. The rest of campus is only a matter of time.

It has been said that when a mongoose is boxed in, it strikes in its most deadly of capacities. And while mongooses are actually illegal in the United States, we believe that the student body must strive to be mongeese…gooses.

This is why we are adopting the mongoose as our third mascot behind the Colonial and the Hippo. You may pick up your official GW Mongoose shirt at the GW bookstore for $18.99. Don’t worry, you can charge it on Colonial Cash.

Now, most importantly, there is only one possible way for the Mongooses to fight back against the residents. You must join a University-sanctioned student organization in order to gain the protection of the flock. Otherwise, you will surely die.

Next week we are going to have a programming meeting at Bertucci’s. Afterwards, we might just go to Cone E. Island for some fro-yo. That will cheese off the Foggy Bottom residents aplenty. Then they will break their hips and we will finally triumph.

We have your tuition money to spend. There are concerts to plan, there are snow cones to eat, there are climbing walls to scale. There are souls to empty. But you must believe that if the university can get acts like Patti LaBelle to perform here, then together we can do anything. The fourth floor of the Marvin Center awaits you. Fly, Mongooses, fly! Godspeed.

(Students for Student Involvement on Campus is an independent 527 organization dedicated to promoting student involvement on campus.)

-The writer, a senior majoring in Middle East studies, is a Hatchet humor columnist.

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