There was once a giant tent in the middle of Mudd Field. Only real ones remember. Then the COVID-testing tent was vanquished and the power to test for COVID was returned to the people, who immediately commenced gleefully swabbing their noses in the middle of Stanley’s. However, those of us who hoped that this would vanquish the evil have been disappointed and frankly terrified as other tents have begun popping up across campus like mushrooms after the rain, or mushrooms in your roommate’s drawer after she started trying to make a KWUR guy think she was cool.
Senior Classics major Nick Anderson identified the problem immediately. “There can only be one possible answer. The COVID-testing tent was a Hydra (Greek: Λερναῖα Ὕδρα), a serpentine water monster that regrows two heads after one was cut off.” WUnderground independently confirmed this theory after getting our moms to FedEx us our copies of Percy Jackson.
Panic began to spread across campus as visibly frazzled university higher-ups began running around, hacking at the tents with swords. Their efforts were in vain. For each tent defeated, more would crop up in its place. WashU donors left homeless by record inflation even started seeking shelter in their plasticy white depths. This is Joe Biden’s America.
“It used to be that the only tent I had to dodge was the one in my roommate’s sheets in the morning as I left our Umrath double. I swear that thing draws my eyes like a car crash. Anyway, now there are tents wherever I go. One appeared in front of me the other day, and then when I turned around another had appeared and I was trapped. I had to miss 131 studio,” confessed freshman Jonah Hickson.
WUnderground’s editorial board wishes to express our sincere hope that WashU fixes this problem, and to remind our readers that according to our sources (Disney’s Hercules (1997)), the solution is fire. WashU administration seems to have realized this, but has accidentally served donors shrimp cocktails rather than molotov.