It is a dark and stormy night. Jon and three disposable characters are sitting in the living room of a gloomy house. Disposable Character #4 comes running into the room.
Disposable Character #4: Ohmigod, did you hear the news on the radio? It's horrible! I think I just wet my pants.
Jon: What's so bad? Is someone appealing the results of the ASUA presidential elections again?
D.C. #4: No, it's even worse. I just heard a radio bulletin that several administrators escaped from the Administration building and are looking for programs to ax! We could be shred to pieces!
Jon: Calm down. Before we start panicking, everyone should yell out what their major is. One of my majors is journalism.
D.C. #1: I'm a journalism major too.
D.C. #2: I'm a grad student in the Communication Department.
D.C. #3: I'm a Near Eastern Studies major.
D.C. #4: I'm heavily involved with Mexican-American Studies.
Jon: Oh crap.
The lights go off and a whirl of a chainsaw can be heard.
After several scenes of mindless mayhem and mutilation, Jon manages to get to a phone to call Sheriff Paulie.
Jon: Sheriff, you gotta help us! There's an administrator running through the house and killing us left and right. I just found the Communication grad student impaled by a copy of Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People.
Sheriff Paulie (off camera): Son, calm down. Now is there anyone in the house who does research?
Jon: Whatdoya mean research?
Sheriff: I mean, does anyone in the house use techno gizmos to study stuff like mosquito brains?
Jon: Why should you only be concerned about research? We're students in highly regarded departments that train us in our respective fields of interest.
Sheriff: Stop sounding like an ad for ABC Welding School. The research of today may give us bigger and better jelly doughnuts for tomorrow. Why should we worry about journalism students? All they do is write snotty articles in the Wildcat. It's pretty obvious you aren't going to do any research that will add to the prestige of the university. I'm just going to continue watching "Different Strokes" and forget about your call. I love it when that Arnold kid says, "What you talking about Willis?" Good-bye. (He hangs up the phone.)
Jon: Hello. Hello! Hello!
As Jon yells in the telephone, a whirl of chainsaw can be heard.
Later, Jon is being chased around the house by a faceless administrator with a chainsaw. Jon falls down repeatedly, and each time the camera zooms in on his horror-stricken face. Jon finally finds the door and runs into the surrounding woods, but he trips and twists his ankle. The faceless administrator walks slowly toward him.
Jon: Please don't kill me. I promise I'll be quiet. I could even change my major to business.
F.A.: No, it's too late for you, just like it was too late for the rest of them. (The administrator rears its head in maniacal laughter.)
Jon: You can't kill me yet. All psycho killers, except for Jason of "Friday the 13th" fame, have to explain to at least one of their victims why they are nutso. For example, you may say that when you think of the Journalism Department, you think of the icky newsprint that gets all over your hands and it makes you crazy.
F.A.: Oh, I do hate that, but that isn't the reason why you are getting the ax. Look at the facts, only 30 percent of journalism majors can get jobs in journalism-related fields.
Jon: So what? What percent of history majors become historians? What percent of German majors become German? I know more poli-sci majors that work at Arby's than go to law school.
F.A.: Stop arguing. You can't fool me so easily.
Jon: It must be getting breezy.
Jon: Your fly is undone.
The administrator looks down at its pants. Jon seizes the opportunity to run away. When Jon is about 100 feet away, he looks back to see the administrator still looking at its pants.
Cut to final scene with Jon running onto a freeway as cars filled with UA students whiz by him.
Jon: Everyone listen to me! No one is safe! If you turn your heads away and let them cut whole departments, it may be your heads that are lopped off next! Listen to me before it is too late!
Ominous music starts up as the picture fades to black.
HOPEFULLY NOT THE END
Jon Burstein is now a junior in business. His column appears Tuesdays. He likes to sing the "Grimy, Greasy Gopher Guts" song. Read Next Article