ST. PETER, MN – Gustavus celebrated homecoming this weekend, a beloved tradition of letting alumni pretend they’ve made their lives count. Events included a rave where black tar heroin was pumped into the air for ninety minutes, a human sacrifice of St. Scholastica’s entire football team, and bingo. 

There was one problem, though: the alumni. In an effort to escape from Gustie grads, many students turned to private parties. But this presented a problem of its own: uninvited first-years. One such first-year, Billy Primpkins, was immediately noted for his impressive height and long trench coat. At eight feet and nine inches, Primpkins cut a striking figure. But when Primpkins stumbled on a pumpkin, everything crumbled. 

“One minute he was one person and the next he was four,” said Jordan Krangus, the party’s host. Upon further inspection, the fallen “first-year” turned out to be four Gustavus Alumni: Bruce Slapp ‘19, Beau Bungee ‘97, Brunhilda Grapnitz Frapner-Garramgurungunum ‘78, and Vern Grumbold ‘46. 

Grumbold, a ninety-eight year old alum, was discovered in a heap at the bottom of the coat, rummaging around the carpet for stray joints. Unfortunately, Grumbold was only apprehended after taking a whiff of “the strongest zaza you’ve ever sniffed,” according to a local mortician. Grumbold was dead twelve minutes later. 

Bruce Slapp, who had tacked a pack of fast snacks to his flask’s cracked hasp, tumbled out unshackled from the costume’s grasp. Slapp had napped under the back flap of the coat’s clasp. “It’s crap!” Slapp snapped, black slacks aslant. “I just wanted to bask in campus life again, and now I’m trapped!”

Joe Bungee, meanwhile, had stuffed his pockets with “Once Upon a Potty” posters, which he reportedly “couldn’t poop without.” Frapner-Garramgurungunum, on the other hand, merely grinned and muttered something about “the curse of Jacob Uhler” and “no one ever really leaves this campus.” 

Although the three surviving infiltrators were escorted off campus, the question remains: what drew them in the first place? And perhaps more importantly, who’s really worse: first-years, or alumni who just won’t let go?