Sunday morning after the Student Activities Fair on Saturday, September 1st, 2018, Jacob Shipley reported a flooded inbox, after apparently receiving an email from every club at Emory University.
Shipley describes that, on Sunday morning at approximately 11:00 am, he woke up and opened his computer, expecting to feel defeated after checking OPUS “one last time” to see if he’s gotten into an irrelevant freshman seminar. Instead, he noticed his mail notifications increasing at an exponential rate. His inbox was full of emails from desperate student leaders excited for his interest in their very important clubs.
“When I first saw the emails, I was like ‘huh?’” said Shipley, considering the fact that he skipped the student activities fair, preferring to get “way too drunk” at a fraternity that only invited him along so his roommate would come.
Spoke reporters asked Shipley whether he remembered angering anyone to such an extreme that they would visit every single club table to write down his email, year, and whether he would be open to “unconventional propositions” from executive board members.
He reported not knowing how or why this happened, considering he is “all about those good vibes.”
The Spoke’s news team deduced first-year Ethan Burakoff as the culprit. When asked for a statement, Burakoff disturbingly declared, “He had to pay,” as his head sunk into the back of his black hoodie.
Burakoff explained that on the prior Thursday night, he attended the well-known and well-reputed Mansion Back to School Bash. Burakoff had his eyes on a girl in a black crop top that he referred to completely seriously as a “spicy meatball,” not even attempting an Italian accent.
He reported that he mentally prepared for 2 ½ hours to go talk to her, even calling his mother for a pep talk.
Near the end of those steadfast hours of planning, Jacob Shipley reportedly swooped in and began chatting with the girl. Burakoff described the scene, “My fists immediately clenched. They stayed that way up until I watched them get into an Uber together. It took so long that my pinky finger is still in fact clenched. The doctor said it’s a permanent muscle contraction or something.” Burakoff continued to say that the doctor had no cure for his broken heart.
“The relationships that start right at the beginning of freshman year ALWAYS last. I am going to die alone,” he murmured disheartedly, resting his head on the reporter’s chest.
At press time, Burakoff reported finding a new soulmate in a similarly plain black crop top, exclaiming, “What are the odds??”
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