SATIRE – For what is likely the first time in recorded university history, a student has picked up a copy of The Vermilion at a newsstand in Griffin Hall.
The shocking, unexpected event took place on Friday, Nov. 12 at 3 p.m.
It was witnessed by one of the little orphan boys who hands out The Vermilion in busy thoroughfares shouting “Extra, extra! Read all about it!”
If his name wasn’t so insignificant, we’d print it here.
Normally, these orphans go home penniless. Unable to buy rations of gruel for their aging families, they’re often forced to lose fingers operating printing presses in The Vermilion’s basement.
However with this recent development, our hungry, seven-fingered orphan can afford a loaf of bread with the Buffalo nickel given to him by the passing student.
The generous student, who wishes to remain anonymous, told The Vermilion that he was excited to become a part of university history. For over 100 years, students toiled away producing a paper that no one read. Now, everything has changed.
“Well, I didn’t exactly read the paper. I needed something to hide the Scantrons I steal from the university bookstore, and The Vermilion was the perfect size,” the student said.
Following this news, the university issued a statement praising The Vermilion for the first time ever. The statement also announced that the public execution of The Vermilion’s editorial staff has been postponed, which comes as a relief to some and a disappointment to others.
Staff writers know what they’re signing up for when they join, and we’re all prepared to lay down our lives in pursuit of the truth. For instance, if everything in this story wasn’t 100% true, I’d be strapped to an electric chair waiting for Cayenne the Pepper to flip the switch as we speak.
That’s also why The Vermilion never makes any mistakes, ever. If you think you found a mistake and feel the urge to leave a comment on our social media, go right ahead. We’re writing this stuff under the threat of painful death, and you’re sitting on a toilet scrolling through Facebook. We are not the same.
The Vermilion’s relationship with the university has always been tense. Ever since our founder, Eleanor B. Vermilion, was accused of witchcraft and tried for her crimes, university administration has kept a watchful eye over the paper.
What they don’t know is that Eleanor was actually a super witch, and that when she was sentenced to death, she cursed campus for always and eternity.
Today, we call that curse “UL Parking and Transit” or “The Office of Transportation Services.”
Hopefully, the fact that someone has picked up a copy of The Vermilion means that the curse is broken. And as more students become aware that we exist, the more powerful we shall become.