That night, I felt a great disturbance at URochester, as if millions of voices cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I woke up in a not-so-cold sweat (thank you to whoever decided the First-Year Quad doesn’t deserve air conditioning), and after looking around, I noticed a bright-green light coming in from my window. It disappeared as fast as it showed up, so I just assumed it was a result of some particularly intoxicated residents of the Fraternity Quad before going back to sleep.
Upon waking up the next morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about that light and proceeded to dedicate every minute to researching last night’s phenomenon while listening to the “Star Wars” soundtrack. My exams could wait until after the mystery was solved. Was the light truly just a frat party? Or was it something more supernatural, like a bottle of week-old Mountain Dew? After hours of research, I found a headline about recent donations to URochester’s Laboratory for Laser Energetics (LLE). The site warned that some “routine tests” had taken place, including last night. Any rational person would have stopped there, satisfied with that answer. But I had my tinfoil hat on, so I knew something else was up.
I infiltrated the LLE under cover of darkness. After a shockingly easy break-in, I began scouring files to see what was really going on. The title “URDStar” kept floating around, but most of the data on that was blocked off. I tried to gain access to the files every way I could, but I made no progress. Just as I began to run out of ideas, I heard some almost cartoonishly-evil cackling coming from down the hall. Feeling curious, I crept up to the door where the sound originated, and when I looked inside, I saw University President Sarah Mangelsdorf decked out in a black robe, sitting on a quite luxurious office chair in an otherwise empty room with a giant window overlooking the campus. As if she could sense me, she called out to me.
“Come forth, young Skywalker!” President Mangelsdorf shouted. “Or— whatever your name is!” As I approached her, I felt a sense of uneasiness rise in me. “So, you have uncovered the truth. You found out that I’ve been raising the price of tuition each year and accepting donations to the LLE so that I can construct a Death Star laser to finally show the University of Richmond who the real “UR” is! I’m sick of them always flaunting their copyright, thinking they’re better than us. But no mor —”
“Actually,” I interjected, “I hadn’t figured any of that out whatsoever. I was honestly kind of stuck on how to look at some of the more-hidden files. But thanks, this was way easier.”
“Oh—” the President sighed. “Shit. That was not my brightest idea. Well, now that you know this, you can’t leave. You see, in just 24 hours, you shall witness the firepower of this fully armed and OPERATIONAL battle station! Our first test shall be upon Pluto. It’s a dwarf planet, so who really cares what happens to it? At last, we will reveal ourselves to the University of Richmond. At last, we will have our revenge!”
“Uh-huh, that makes total sens — LOOK OVER THERE!” I then made the heroic and noble choice of cowardly running for dear life, and hoping I didn’t get vaporized by lightning on my way out. Thankfully, I escaped and made it back to my dorm. The President never got my name so I’ve remained under the radar. And she was right, no one cared that Pluto blew up. (Have you seen any headlines about it? Exactly.) This article is far too important to be kept under wraps though, so I implore everyone reading this to remember my tale. Whenever the LLE gets brought up, know that the University of Rochester is dangerously close to acquiring a weapon of mass destruction. It’s up to everyone reading this to convince the University of Richmond to give up the “UR” trademark so that no actually relevant planets suffer Pluto’s fate.
