And lo, the incorporeal manifestation of St. Mary’s College of Maryland spoke to Delia, the humor columnist. She had heard the voice of her College many times before, and though she had been prescribed a strong medication by her therapist, she had eventually decided would just have to let this weird shit be.
The College summoned the journalist to the highest hill o’er the lowest valley by the widest tree in the land of St. Mary’s, which happened to be exactly on the spot of the Arby’s. So the columnist and the disembodied voice of her undergraduate school split an Angus Three Cheese and Bacon, for all know that Arby’s is a hearty, delicious experience you can count on. And the College our School said, “Hear me writer, ye must obey the deadlines of your editors. Turn your articles in on time, lest someone would make you wait ‘til the last minute on a Sunday. And the columnist said, “Nay, this I cannot promise, for I am like, super busy all week and I hath promised my friend Jamie that we could party in honor of her birthday this Sabbath eve.” At this the College grew cold, and super passive aggressive. “So be it, writer. Well I guess if ye of so much pride can do as ye please, then ye shall not mind if I just let seven plagues descend upon thine campus, since, ye know, we’re just doing whatever we feel like now.” And the journalist said. “Ok! Ok! I shall obey my deadlines, so swear I.” And the College said “No, no, do not go out of your way on my account. Actually, I want to do seven plagues now. I really do.” And the journalist rubbed upon her temples and said ‘I cannot talk to you when you’re like this. Why must you punish all who dwell on campus for my transgressions? If they discover I am the cause, they shall surely throw me into the river.” “Yep.” Came College’s reply. “Pretty much.” And thus seven plagues came in time to St. Mary’s College, and the humor columnist was stuck with a bill for $37.45.
Plague 1. Floods
The College commanded the waters of the St. Mary’s River to rise and floweth all through the dormitories. The students of the first floors all screwed their faces up in disgust as puddles formed in the halls, and a lone pair of underoos floated out of the laundry room.
Plague 2. Insects
Next the College commanded the creepy crawlies of the earth of to make themselves at home within the students dwellings. Flies teemed to trash cans, gnats blackened the ceiling and cockroaches called into question their ability to survive a nuclear fallout, because they straight up died everywhere. And the students bemoaned their fate and went ‘Auggghhhh, that is so grooooosssss!”
Plague 3: Hurricanes
Next the College brought about a sweeping deluge to knock the power out during freshman orientation. “Wait a moment,” said the humor columnist. “I’m a little confused about the chronology of all these plagues. Didn’t that hurricane happen…” College then cut her off with a second, milder hurricane that nonetheless meant being stuck inside right after Hallowgreens. The journalist was silent after this, for she missed her Netflix and did not wish to provoke anymore wrath upon her binging of ‘New Girl.’
Plague 4: Mold
College then sent a great many spores of fungus to line the walls of Prince George and Caroline. It then softened the administrators’ heads so that action was slow and indecisive as the mold grew in size and health hazardy-ness. In time the studentites were forced on an exodus from their home dorms, and put into the neighboring inns, where it was super inconvenient. In a moment of pity and also really mixed up Old Testament references, College gave the wandering students an arc, on which they stayed for forty days and forty nights, possibly more, I don’t care.
Plague 5: Mice
College sent the creatures of the Earth to once more run free through of homes of the Studentites, and lo, the journalist spoke again. “This is intensely crazy, I’m putting a stop to this.” “Be my guest,” replied College. “Tell everybody I’ve been talking to you in your head and that this is actually all your fault. Please, go right ahead.” The Writer was silent for several moments, and The College, our School, said “That’s what I thought.”
Plague 6: Budget Cuts
College sliced the fiscal resources of the school, and lo many ‘difficult decisions’ had to be made. “This is idiotic.” Said the journalist, sitting behind the cardboard box that was now her desk. “Quiet please,” said her professor, using a piece of brush to clear the sand, thus switching to the next slide of the ‘Powerpoint.’
Plague 7: The Dearth of the First Years
Finally, College sent a Common Application all across the land, and the enrollment of the school began to perish. There were not enough freshman to fill the slots allotted for the class of 2017, and administrators searched far and wide for people to fill the roles.
“College, you have made your point, and filled me with shame” said Delia the columnist. “I shall flake on my deadlines no more.” “And this is very good.” Said College, “But why looketh you so bleakly?” And the writer replied “When so many things go wrong, how can I look out gladly upon my school?”And the College replied, “How? Why, look around you writer.” The writer looked, and before her were many wonders. She saw the river and the beach and Daffodil Gulch, she saw the deep woods of North Campus. She saw Kent Hall where her teachers filled her days with meaning and challenges. She saw the apartment she called home, and the friends she shared it with. She saw the clubs she cared about, and the newspaper she was proud to write for. All in all, for any seven plagues that came, she could say there were far more than Seven Wonders for it. Indeed, thought the writer, this was her school, and whatever the reasons, she was proud of it. And the writer said. “You’re right, this is very good.”
And don’t forget to stop at Arby’s.