“Bwaiiiiins!” was the rallying cry of the undead rodent army that took over River Campus this past week, slaughtering countless students for their juicy, powerful thinking meats. Despite the zombie groundbois — nicknamed the “zombois” by UR meme pages — being clear about their intent to massacre the student body for sustenance, since their arrival on campus, not a single student has tried to organize against them.

In fact, some students — such as junior and president of the recently inaugurated Zomboi Appreciation Community (ZAC), Zachary Smith — are actively welcoming the carnivorous critters onto our campus. When asked why he started the club despite the zombois’ malevolent designs, Smith wrote in an email to the Campus Times: “Look at their little feet! Oh my goodness, don’t you just want to pick up their little pawsies and play with them all day? Awwwwww, good baby.”

It is unclear where the zombois originated, though there is speculation they may have come about as some form of divine retribution for kids who go around killing black cats on Halloween instead of acting like decent human beings. Whatever the reason, the zombois have already staked their claim on the entirety of campus. They are now the sole proprietors of every building, except for Hopeman, which their spokeszomboi Widdle Wally said was “too scawy even for us, and pwobabwy filled with ghosts.”

It should be noted that as he said this he stood up on his hind legs and sniffed the air a little with his itty-bitty button nose, exposing his fluffy little tummy and his big round eyes. This reporter was not permitted to give belly rubs because of some bullshit about “journalistic integrity,” and also “razor-sharp teeth.” 

The zombois are currently taking up residence in random students’ dorms, where they lay low for a couple days before violently ripping out the student’s throat and devouring their insides. Absolutely no students have attempted to remove them from their dorms, despite undoubtedly being well aware of their fate. Sophomore Lila Clark, who is currently hosting a zomboi named Emaciated Earnest, told CT that they were “pretty okay with the whole situation.” This was said as they booped Earnest’s nose over and over again while he napped under the warm light of a sunbeam.

“Look at the tiny baby!” Clark squealed. “Look at his teeny-weeny little ears, and his tail — such a good boy, yes you are! Yes you are!”

Both Smith and Clark have mysteriously disappeared since their respective interviews. In a prepared statement given this past Friday, Wally said that this was clearly a “twagic accident” and that “we all hope they’re in a safe place where their bwains can be used for yummy soups and pastwies.” He then stood on his hind legs again and did a widdle dancy-dance, to a standing ovation from the crowd.



A few things I look back on fondly from the asynchronous era

I admit that on some days I wish that I could just throw on a shirt, open my laptop, and instantly be in class again.

CT is pro-mask… until…

Next time your friend or housekeeper or workshop leader mentions their mask smelling like eggs or sweat, don’t give them the side-eye or raise an eyebrow like the experience is completely foreign to you.

Screaming Into the Void: A night with UR’s creative writing faculty

The process is the best part of writing — or any art form, for that matter. It’s where one can find the joy in building their own unique world.