It’s no secret that the world is hot as balls and is steadily getting hotter as ballser. Polar bears are pissed off, Priuses are getting uglier every year and somewhere Al Gore is sitting in a candlelit room on a romantic date with his Nobel Peace Prize. What’s causing this plethora of what-the-hellery? I’m talking, of course, about the greatest plague to our planet since Nickelback’s debut album: (cue ‘50s horror movie music) GLOBAL WARMING!
That’s right, the sun’s slowly eating our planet like a reluctant fat kid eating his vegetables, and it turns out the third leading cause of global warming in the world is right in our backyard! Wyatt Hall has officially surpassed loggers (the real ones, not our existentially confused namesake) as the third leading cause of global warming, only behind crowds waving cell phones at Nickelback concerts and Mitt Romney’s spray-on tan.
With temperatures that rival that of the ninth circle of Hell, our beloved humanities building is hot to the point of raising the body temperature of every student by one degree Fahrenheit. This concentration of body heat, combined with the heat from the building, creates a radiator effect that is helping to carve holes in the ozone layer larger than the ones in Paul Ryan’s nomination acceptance speech.
“It’s ridiculous how hot it can get in there,” junior Lucy Ferris said. “It can be 25 degrees outside, so I’ll put on three or four layers. When I get to Wyatt I’m like a poorly-wrapped burrito from the S.U.B. that’s been tossed into a sauna.”
“We’re supposed to be ‘living green,’” known freshman suck-up Lionel Peters echoed, “but it’s pretty hard living green when you’re turning red and dying of heat stroke. Have you ever tried to recycle a bottle while having a heat stroke? It’s tougher than watching a Logger football game sober.”
So what’s causing all the heat in Wyatt? Why not just turn down the temperature?
“We actually don’t know where the thermostat in Wyatt is,” President Thonald Rhombus remarked when approached about the number standing. “Trust me, if we could, we would turn the temperature down. We think Wyatt’s original architect hid the location of the thermostat somewhere in the blueprints, but the blueprints were burned to a crisp when they were left next to a radiator. The architect himself, attempting to rescue the blueprints from its infernal grave, was literally consumed by the mini atmosphere the radiator created. FWOOM! Gone.”
As the world slowly cooks on a spit, so too does the gentle, delicious community of Puget Sound. Will the University be able to find the thermostat in Wyatt before it’s too late? With all the irreparable damage from Nickelback and Mitt Romney’s increasing desperation, will Wyatt’s temperature be the tipping point for planet Earth? Are you reading this in an old-time TV announcer’s voice? Stay tuned, friends, and remember the next time you’re on your way to class in Wyatt, take a page from Dante: “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”
