1. YOU STUDENTS HAVE REALLY RUINED THE FAMILY FUN OF THE QUAD

A disgruntled family man

Everything was finally coming together when my family decided to rent an apartment in the “Baby Quadrangle.” The place had it all: reasonable rent, picturesque views of fine gothic architecture and a great location! Summer was heaven, one big blur of picnics, hide–and–go–seek and family dinners at the nice Americana bistro, 1920 Commons. But then summer ended, and something terrible happened: a randy gang of oversexed adolescent hooligans overran my family’s beautiful University City abode.

Fall’s been hell. Not only have I had to deal with unbelievable levels of rowdiness and the constant playing of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin',” but also my entire family has been forced to participate in bonding activities with our hall! After an exhausting round of trust falls, my four–year–old daughter was forced to go to a museum toga party wrapped in a pillow case and some guy named Brad foisted a handful of cheap condoms on my wife.

We would have moved at once, but the market’s terrible and our lease isn’t up until May. We really hit rock bottom when my baby capsized after her tricycle slipped in a puddle of jungle juice, which, by the way, tastes like the gangrene of a wasted generation.

Sometimes I’m forced to do keg stands just to use the bathroom, and my bully hall mates are constantly asking to borrow my decanters because it makes them feel “fucking badass.” I never thought that life could be so bad. And I’m really starting to feel like shit about myself because not one off–campus house has tapped me for fall rush. We’ll see what happens, but if this shit keeps up we’re moving to Hill!

2. YEAH I SAW WHAT'S IN YOUR BAG

A Van Pelt security guard

Don’t pretend like I don’t recognize you. You’re the one who goes up to the fifth floor to study ­— all high and mighty up there among the clouds, wearing your fancy designer clothes and your pricey headphones, eating your Magic Carpet. You probably think you’re pretty darn special, don’t you?

But not to me.

Oh no no no no no. You have to put on your pants one leg at a time each morning just like the rest of us, and I’m the only one that’s figured that out.

For you see, I know what’s in your bag.

Did you think I wasn’t even paying attention all those times you walked by me and opened your bag? Or maybe you thought I was simply looking for library books? Horse hockey! Penn hired me because I have the eyes of a hawk and the focus of a puzzle–master. Every goddamned trinket that passes in and out of these clear doors gets stuck in my steel–trap mind like an Asian in the stacks during finals. Your bag was no exception, your majesty. Or should I say plebe!!

Man oh man I’ve seen some crazy stuff in bags in my day. A cowboy hat, a baseball signed by Minnesota Twins legend Kirby Puckett, a case of Klondike Bars that were still cold after hours(!) in the library. Yep, just give me one glance in your bag and I can stare deep into your soul, read your past, predict your future. I’ve seen your true self, and you have commoner written all over it.

In fact, I’m gonna do you a favor. I’m gonna publish your name right here in this opinion piece so you don’t have to live this facade any longer. The whole world will know that you are just another living, breathing, Van Pelt–going human.

This will be good for you. Trust me. The name of the commoner is —

Aww shit. We got another homeless guy in Rosengarten. I gotta take care of that.

3. C'MON THROW IT AWAY

A squirrel

Hey guy.

What’s that sack you have there? Looks pretty heavy. Awkward to hold. A burden.

You should throw it away right here in this garbage can I live in.

You can’t carry that all the way to class. You’ll exhaust yourself. You be too tired to pay attention. You’ll fail the midterm next week. Your parents will stop paying tuition.

You don’t want that, do you?

No. It’s definitely time to throw that sack away.

Especially if it’s food.

Or something good for my nest.

NO! DON’T STOP TO TALK TO THAT GIRL!! I CAN’T WAIT ANY LONGER FOR YOUR SWEET, SWEET GARBAGE —

I mean, aren’t you late for some meeting? You Penn students always have things to do. Surely you can’t afford to waste your time talking to her. Besides, she probably has a boyfriend anyway. All the good ones do, ya know. If only you were lucky enough to be a grey squirrel, your courtship rituals would be reduced to spraying scent from your anal glands onto a tree. The ladies come to you!

But then again, maybe you have it better. I can’t buy a value meal at McDonalds like you recently did.

So help a brother out.

C’mon. Throw it away.

Yes, that’s it. Keep coming this way.

Wait, are you actually going to do it?

DO NOT FUCK WITH ME RIGHT NOW!! EITHER TOSS IT IN OR STOP TEASING ME! I HAVE TO HIBERNATE IN TWO MONTHS. I NEED THE CALORIES MORE THAN YOU NEED TO RECYCLE, ASSHOLE!!

That’s it, just a few more steps!

Extend the arm! EXTEND!!!

Oooh. Sweet. Fucking. Christ.

Holy mother of shit, this is the good stuff.

Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-EHEH-EHEH-EHEH-EEEEEEHEH!

Pardon. Lost my cool there. Just let me catch my breath for a sec.

You know? You’re not too bad. I tell you what. I was planning on jumping through your dorm window and eating your Wheat Thins later today, but I think I’ll just shit on your roommate’s bed, amigo.