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What follows is the transcript from the press conference called by Bradley Whitaker, AKA “Cap’n Brad,” a fourth year business student at a large state university.
“Everyone, thanks for showing up. I’ll try to keep this brief. I’ve got a hot date with a lit nine-hole golf course and a cooler of beer my buddy Lizard stole from the back room of his liquor store job that’s calling my name. There’s been a lot of speculation recently over whether I would graduate this semester and take my various talents to the corporate world. I’m not totally sure why everyone cares so much, or why I’m here, really. I only have a decent GPA, and I barely got the credits I needed in order to walk — and that’s only thanks to a little fudging of using a film appreciation class as an English credit, thanks to a lovely lady in her fifties working in the registrar’s office who likes to stare at my khaki snake outline every time I come in.
To be honest, I don’t know if I’m ready to get out in the real world. Sure, I have a couple of mediocre job offers lined up from alumni, and I’ve managed to get this far without accruing any debt, but there just doesn’t seem to be much on the other side of that fence that’s more attractive than being a lazy college student. So with that said, I want today’s press conference to mark my official announcement that I will return to school next semester for a full fifth year.
I want to make this clear: I am in no way coming back to add to my education. I’ve only paid enough attention in my classes so far throughout my collegiate career as to get middling grades that don’t jump out as terrible on a résumé. I plan to take on a minimal workload of scheduled classes, all of which will be electives with professors who don’t take attendance. I plan to be the best bowler to never show up once to the university’s lanes.
I’ve also made the decision to go ahead and take out a student loan. Now, my tuition is still being paid by the rotary club scholarship that I in no way deserved when it was awarded to me, nor have I upheld any of the honor code requirements attached. My loan money will instead be immediately transferred from my student account into my bank, and it will serve as a slush fund for questionable decisions. I’ll never have to worry about a bar tab again — or, at least, not in the immediate future. I plan on taking two spring break trips, and I will likely dedicate at least half of the money to my betting account set up with a shady offshore sports book. The money I’m receiving is certainly not free, but I’m confident in my decision to allow the older, responsible me who will have a salaried job in the future to take care of my current indiscretions.
However, despite my influx of federally subsidized debauchery funds, I will not use that money to pay for my room and board at the fraternity house. Oh, don’t worry, I’ll still live there, I’ve just come to an understanding with the guy in charge of collecting dues that my presence there as a role model will far outweigh the cost of them putting me up for free. Me having pictures of him banging a prostitute in the back of his RAV4, again acquired by Lizard, has nothing to do with this arrangement.
I’m now going to open up for a few questions.”
Q: “Have you informed your girlfriend who is graduating of your decision?”
A: “I have. She didn’t take the news quite as well as I expected, so we are no longer together. On the plus side, it does free me up to chat up as many freshman girls who aren’t familiar with my reputation as possible.”
Q: “How can you be sure that these job offers will be on the table for you in a year?”
A: “I don’t, but to be fair, I didn’t really do anything to deserve them in the first place, so I’m just kinda banking on the idea that continuing to not do shit will keep them there.”
Q: “Does your decision to stay have anything to do with the recent popularity of Fireball, and its magical ability to get everybody fucked up on cinnamon goodness?”
A: “No comment.”
Q: “Are you worried that an extra year increases your likelihood of a career-ending expulsion?”
A: “That’s the risk all of us fifth years take, so I’m putting it in God’s hands that my frequent habit of bringing home strippers, buying booze for underage members, and occasional narcotics consumption will continue to go undisciplined. Last question.”
Q: “Anything you’d like to say to any prospective pledges for next year?”
A: “Sure. Watch and learn, kids. Don’t let the system fuck you in your bootyhole. Go to class, get your shit done, and say hi to me on campus, at least until you get a bid. Then you better not fucking look me in the eye once without my permission. I’m just kidding, guys. I’m a fifth year now; none of us really care about pledging enough to be assholes about it. I look forward to a long and rewarding semester with you in which no university rules will be broken whatsoever. Am I right, Dean Bishop?”
[Dean Bishop rolls his eyes and walks out of the room.]
“Okay, that’s about it, folks. Thanks for showing up. Anybody got any rolling papers on you? I seem to have left mine in last night’s mistake’s dorm room.”
So that about wraps it up. I’ll be around Cap’n Brad for the next couple of hours if any of you have questions you’d like him to answer. Just put them in the comments..