“You what?!” yelled Opinions Editor Kerry Lengel as he looked up from his Tetris game on one of the Wildcat computers. a
"You heard me," I said. "I can't write my column anymore. I’ve run out of ideas. I’ve made fun of everything — the administration, ‘Beverly Hills 90210,’ the Biospherians, ASUA, mimes and budget cuts. There’s nothing left for me to do. I’ve decided to move on to another writing genre. One that people will truly read.”
"What's that?" asked Kerry.
"I'm going to write limeriks on bathroom stall walls across the campus,” I declared.
"Look, don't be rash," Kerry said. “Take a week off and think it over.” W
I left the Wildcat offices and hopped on my bike. As I was peddling down University Boulevard, I heard someone yell from behind me, “Hey Jon!” I turned my head back and saw no one. It must have been my imagination. As I turned my head around, I saw the stop sign I was about to hit. Then everything went black.
When I woke up, I found myself handcuffed to a bed. Normally I don’t mind being handcuffed to beds, but this time I was a bit disturbed. What had happened? Where was I? I looked around the room. The walls were coated with Luke Perry and “Beverly Hills 90210” posters. As I surveyed the room, I realized that I wasn’t in an ordinary room. I was in a dorm … excuse me, residence hall room. I was still on campus. After an hour of dry-heaving from being surrounded by the “90210” paraphernalia, the door opened. A woman who looked just like actress Kathy Bates in that Stephen King movie came in and walked over toward the bed.
"how long have I been out?" I asked. “What’s going on?” d
"Well, you've been here for three days,” she said. “Now are you that Jon Burstein character who writes a column for the Wildcat?” HBO movies in my spare time.” disappeared, women around campus have been mourning the loss of you and your column. A group of women have been holding a candlelight vigil outside the Wildcat offices. Administrators have even talked about dedicating a bench in your honor.”
No. I'm full of crap. I don't think anyone has noticed that you’re gone.”
"Wait a minute," I said. “Are you a psycho-hose-beast fan who wants me to write more columns or you’ll hurt me?” c
"No, I don't like your columns,” she said. “I find them trite and inane. Your sentences are often convoluted and your sense of humor stinks.”
"Hey, it's not my fault. Once the editors get through with it ...”
"Silence?" she roared. "I kidnapped you because I am a generally malicious person with too much time on my hands. So I’ve decided to have a couple of my friends come over to talk to you, Mr. I-Think-I’m-Sooooo-Funny. Now it’s time to pay the piper.” o
She went over to the door and opened it. In walked ASUA President Derek Lewis followed by a gaggle of ASUA groupies. yelled. “You wrote a bunch of nasty columns about ASUA and now we’re gonna get you!”
"Yeah, we're gonna get you!" chimed in the ASUA crew behind him.
"By the time we're through with you, you’ll be feeling really bad,” Lewis said. c
"Yeah, really really bad," said the ASUA chorus.
"Are you through babbling yet?" I asked. "Jeez, all you people do is talk. What horrible things are you going to do to me?”
Lewis grinned and said, "First, we're gonna ... hmmm ... I haven’t thought about it much. …” fo
"Maybe we should form a task force to decide how to hurt Jon,” said one of the chorus.
"Yes, we probably should," said Lewis as he nodded his head. “That way we could determine the most efficient way to hurt Jon. How about we form the ASUA Task Force to Make Jon Feel Really Bad and we’ll meet Wednesday.”
"Cool", said one of the chorus. “Now let’s get back to the ASUA offices so we can sit on the Xerox machines and make copies of our butts.”
The ASUA group scurried out of the room. After they left, the Biosphere 2 crew came in and started pelting me with Grape Nuts.
"You're a bad man," siad one of the Biospherians. “Not only did you write that nasty column about us, but I remember your face from before. You were the one who would sit outside the Biosphere and have a Domino’s Pizza delivery man bring you food. Then you would eat it right in front of us as we pressed our faces against the glass. Bastard.”
"Hey, I heard there's a sale on tofu at Fry's," I said. “If you hurry, you could probably make it.” B
The Biospherians dropped their Grape Nuts and ran out of the room. A group of administrators walked in and hovered over the bed.
The top-guy begain, "Jon, you silly litle lout. After reading your columns about budget cutbacks, we think you are completely clueless. You see, the dynamics of a research university with a high density of total grant money from … blah, blah, blah.”
In the middle of the speech, I fell asleep. When I woke up again, I found myself laying in the middle of the road.
Homecoming Queen Tara Meyer sauntered by, stopped and said, “Are you like dead or are you just pretending to be a speed bump?”
"No, I ran into the stop sign and had this dream with Biospherians and stuff.”
"Dumbass," said Meyer as she walked off
As I sat in the middle of the road, I wondered what my dream meant in the cosmic scheme of things. Will I keep this column under 1,000 words? Then it hit me. I couldn’t stop writing my column for one simple reason..
It's too damn fun making fun of people.
Jon Burstein is a junior in journalism and political science. Look for his column next semester. Have a bitchin’ summer (and/or life). Read Next Article