As announced by the head of Emory Dining last month, students on the unlimited meal plan will no longer be able to swipe their upperclassmen friends into the DUC. The news has garnered a wide variety of reactions from the student body, mostly hunger pangs of the student stomach, and many students have demanded answers from the administration.
“Fostering a profitable community of care means holding our students to the highest standards of integrity and lowest standards of nutrition. We cannot allow this insolent rebellion to persist,” said President Sterk. “Plus, I need to skim a little extra off the top this semester,” added the visibly uncomfortable administrator, shifting in her seat. “There are some holes in the budget this semester, and my old friend Dilma gave me some ideas on how to plug them.”
Emory has been dipping its fingers into students’ wallets since 1836, leading to the celebrated tradition of staving off malnutrition through creativity. Shorter students would stuff themselves into backpacks to sneak in; the more devious designed elaborate heists to rappel in through the skylight; others simply walked past the unattended station on the left.
“I think it’s great Emory’s taking a stand against all this,” said college sophomore and notable asshole Mason Greene. “One time I swiped into the DUC only to find thieving upperclassmen had taken all the chicken; how am I supposed to bulk in time for semiformal and get the 500 grams of protein I need every meal unless in the form of boring, dry chicken with no sauce? It’s an outrage.”
Other students were less thrilled with the news. Some were simply confused.
“What the hell do they care about us stealing food for?” wondered junior student Rocky Boyer. “I already got those Shakespeare folios from the library, a pallet of unmarked cash from the admissions office, and even Robert W. Woodruff’s frozen head! Although I did find that in a freezer in the DUC, so maybe that’s the real reason they’re stepping up security.”
“If I had known that my group wouldn’t be able to swipe me in after Orientation, I would never have signed up. What was the point of becoming an Orientation Leader?” wondered disappointed OL Leah Blatsky.
Last year, The Daily Meal ranked Emory as #10 in the top 75 Best Colleges for Food in America. It’s just a shame students can only afford an average of 11 of those award-winning meals per week. But why bother with three meals a day when just thinking about all the extra cash in President Sterk’s slush fund is nourishment enough?
“It was hard enough to eat before just thinking about how much debt I was racking up from going to school here,” said junior Ali Lincoln. “Now I’ve had to mortgage my textbooks just to afford food I don’t even want to eat!”
At press time, a desperate group of sophomores in the Woodruff Library were using the whiteboards to draw up battle plans for a raid on the cafeteria.