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  • Doily Allergen

Why Do Freshmen Sit Like That? An Investigation

weird pose

Captain’s Log: September 8th, 2023. I’ve finally been released from prison––I snitched––but the world I’ve returned to isn’t the one I once knew. The squirrels are beginning to stock up for the winter, it’s no longer hot enough for me to have swamp ass, and worst of all, there are way too many freshmen out and about.

The time first years hiding in their dorms and moving in groups numbering in the dozens has ended. They have accepted their individuality, embraced the outside world, and are spreading out on campus more and more each day. However, there are some habits that die painfully hard, one of which I am becoming increasingly disturbed by: the way they sit.

Squatting so their ass cheeks just barely touch the ground, knees raised high as their legs fold underneath them. Why do they sit like that? There’s no way it can be comfortable for them. How is it any better than just sitting criss-cross applesauce? The more I enjoy my newfound freedom, the more I am subjected to this nonsensical way of resting. There were two routes I could follow; I could allow this perversion to consume me before I snap once more and wind up right back in the cold arms of the law, or I could get to the bottom of this conspiracy. I didn’t have any other people to snitch on, so I was forced to take route two.

I started by infiltrating the freshmen the only way I knew how: by dressing like them. Donning a multi-colored propeller hat and a pair of short overalls, I walked up to the first freshman that I found. They were sitting in a chair like a normal human person, but I could see in their eyes that they had sat like That before. I’m not sure if my expert disguise impressed them, or if they were just frivolous about their secrets, but I was invited to a freshman mixer the next night (they also told me it “would get better”, but I’m not sure what they meant by that). In the time before the mixer, I did further research, crouching behind a group of shrubs and waiting for a freshman to sit like That, though after seventeen hours, no one did.

I upped the ante for my disguise for the mixer. This wasn’t some measly stake-out; no, this was a full on infiltration. Along with the propeller hat and overalls, I equipped myself with a comically large lollipop, which held a $140,000 set of camera and microphones that I mortgaged my family home to buy from the CIA. The mixer started off calm as I milled about the area, moving all the chairs against the wall so that if someone wanted to rest their feet, they would have to do it That way. But alas, no one did it. That was, however, until two hours into the mixer, when I had licked my lollipop so much that the lens of the camera was now beginning to show. The lights in the room dimmed, and suddenly, all the freshmen made a circle around the room. I joined them, so as to not be discovered.

The freshman who invited me stood in the center, beginning to do a series of squats. No one said a word as they began to follow his movements. Afraid to break my cover, I did the same. A low hum and the smell of static electricity filled the room. After what felt like five hours of squatting, we finally stayed sitting like That. The floor opened up, and I was shocked to see none other than Herky, connecting a comically large battery to a set of wires. Surrounding the battery were a series of tubes, which all lined up underneath the circle of freshman. It was at that moment all the dots connected for me: the freshmen are a power source.

For decades, the university has been brainwashing freshmen to sit like That, using the kinetic energy from the squats to charge that comically large battery. But why just freshman? Is it something about their sickly sweet blood that creates more energy than the washed up sophomore, juniors, and seniors? There’s no telling what this battery is for, or why freshmen are the main power source, but I vow to get to the bottom of this, even if it kills me. I’ll release the footage of the ceremony tomorrow night. The people need to know the truth, and the Doily Allergen will stand as the one trustworthy news source in Iowa City!

UPDATE: The Doily Allergen is heartbroken to announce that one of our writers has tragically died. Not much is known about his death, though the CIA has wrapped up their investigation and have released a statement:

“It is our findings that the reporter for the Doily Allergen committed suicide after a long fight with depression. He died by hanging himself from a seven foot rope tied to a five foot tall door frame before shooting himself in the back of the head twice, then being partially eaten by his dog that he had adopted just minutes earlier and locked himself in a suitcase before finally tossing himself and the suitcase into the Iowa River. He also burned all his journalistic reports before committing suicide. The CIA offers no further comment on the absolutely truthful cause of death.”


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