Reader’s note: This story is satirical in nature and published in a spoof issue.
Stories of drunken escapades have started floating around Rice Hall, sources who spoke on the condition of anonymity said.
Provost Vern Man was still reeling Wednesday from the previous evening, in which chief fundraiser Mike Lessberger ordered bottle service for Vice President for External Relations Lo-mein Voles’ birthday the upscale night club Cities.
The dozen-member cabinet had tried to outpace the pack of freshmen girls wearing patent leather pumps at the next table, and the hammered provost had vommed on the Vern Express – costing him and the University thousands in cleaning fees.
Vern Man knew he was in no condition to return to his Mount Vernon Campus home. Then he remembered the cozy trundle bed that awaited him in the master bedroom of University President Stephen Klapp’s house, which was covered by a former student’s hand-knit quilt.
“I can’t believe I even considered taking the Vern Express in this drunken state,” Vern Man said.
For the last month, Vern Man had spent the night tucked into a trundle bed that Klapp had desperately installed in the top floor of his 1925 F Street townhouse.
Klapp had made the purchase March 1, after his chief of staff Barbara Reporter flagged a sale item at IKEA. He said he had been disheartened by the provost’s pathetic attempts to convince cab drivers to drive him for 15 minutes to the Foxhall Road campus before upchucking in the vehicle. Driving Vern Man’s own vehicle was out of the question on most nights, multiple administrators said.
“I decided that my enormous salary could cover the costs of a trundle bed for my chief academic leader,” Klapp said, adding that he was tired of the provost trying to cuddle with him, his wife and Ruffles.
Though Vern Man had for years enjoyed his queen-size canopy bed on the Mount Vernon Campus, he had experienced sunken spirits since completing his life’s work, the University’s 10-year strategic plan, to little fanfare on campus.
The provost’s nightly excursions, made giddy with endless handles of cotton candy-flavored Pinnacle Vodka and Bacardi Big Apple rum, had become a troubling pattern.
One night, the slightly tipsy provost demanded a turn to drive the Vern Express. Freddie, the bouncer at Cities, once observed Vern Man, who describes himself as a “East Coast Princess,” squeezing into the college night crowd, sweaty and shirtless.
Klapp said he first convinced Vern Man to spend the night in his F Street home after he found him slouched in the bushes near the satellite campus’ bus stop. Klapp rolled down the window of his 2009 silver Hummer and waved his second-in-command to come over, only after promising to drive him to the Alexandria’s Glass Stache in the morning for mustache grooming materials.
Klapp even called in Reporter to stock the pantry so Vern Man could get his morning pancake fix.
“That’s all I’m good for anyways,” the stumbling provost said as he grabbed the door handle and pulled himself into the Hummer.