Hackers Uncover “Campus Defense” Fee
Recently, our team of elite code monkeys at the Third Spur managed to evade Duo Factor authentication and hacked into the bursar’s office to figure out why tuition costs a hell of a lot of money. The results may shock you.
The surprise auditors found that 90% of tuition money goes to keeping closed a profane and tainted gate to Hell located in the basement of the [REDACTED] building. Of that 90%, 50% went towards forging “Cockscalibur”, a legendary blade wielded by none other than president Pastides, who spends his evenings fighting off hordes of demons in a suit of power armor designed by none other than the undergraduate engineers at Swearingen. The other 50% went towards something called “Pastides’ Pastries” which seem to be what fuels our brave leader in fighting demons.
Kyl3, the lead hacker and the most decorated member of the team (with an Excel certification) had this to say on the matter: “We simply typed in password and got into the mainframe, then we like, found out that Pastides actually fights demons, brah.” These demons are reportedly homunculi with Cocky’s head on the bodies of campus squirrels.
We also reached out to the head of the power armor design team to get the scoop and learned a lot more about what our heroic president is facing. Elon Musk recently took over the project after his split with Grimes and had this to say: “Bob Caslen, the butcherer of speeches, opened this portal right before he was replaced. To defend the presidency, we made this suit of armor powered by the kinetic force of students’ Duo Factor authentications.” If that doesn’t prove UofSC engineers are the best, I don’t know what does.
We reached out to Pastides for a comment on this situation. “For 4,000 years, I have protected this land from the profane, and for 4,000 years more I shall.” When asked what would happen if he fails, he said, “Caslens will take my throne, and probably my speeches, and make them his own.” The interview came to an abrupt end when we asked why so much money was dedicated to his pastries, to which he shouted heretic and sprinted away, Cockscaliber jingling at his side.
