An investigation conducted by WashU’s Premier journalists has exposed where your gross food-particle-y spit goes post COVID test (we know you don’t actually abstain from unholy indulgences/extravagances like food and water for 30 minutes before the test, you ignorant fools). We never actually see where the vials of spit go post 0.5 mL line-fill, and we find the accuracy of the spit tests questionable considering the amount of WashU students who sit maskless at Kaldis (worth it for their recent BOGOs tbh). Frankly, there are a lot of people at this school who should have gotten COVID but haven’t, and we find it hard to believe that the SigEp COVID outbreak was because they have been the worst at social distancing.
Motivated by these questions, we sought to figure out what happens in WashU’s COVID testing labs. We attached one of WUPD’s laptop trackers (WUPD’s single redeeming feature) to a test tube that we threw into the beer-cooler in the testing tent and saw what happened from there.
The first red flag we noticed was the method of transportation. The test tubes are taken to the Med School via lime scooter (bird scooters are too conspicuous). Once students’ spit arrives in the lab, we found that instead of being analyzed for COVID-19, it is being used in preliminary cloning research. Utilizing the stellar journalism skills we learned from taking Creative Nonfiction Writing 2 pass/fail, we were able to uncover that the administration has been using COVID testing as a guise to gather our DNA and build a better class of WashU undergraduates. Through advanced cloning and genetic-modification, WashU aims to breed the actual Ivy-League versions of ourselves (think: the kind of people who would featured in the Class of 2025 profile as a “world-famous juggler” or “neo-eco-Marxist Tik Tok creator”).
These new-and-improved versions of ourselves would be the kind of incoming class that the Administration has been waiting for. Each one of these clones will be programmed to never steal food from Bauer or Cafe Bergson, and frequently sign up for the Writing Center. They will register ahead of time to use the Zoom-Study-Dine Pods, will actually meet each other at the Bunny, and they will definitely take time to get to know their WUSAs. Furthermore, our clones will find other ways to have fun without drinking alcohol (Ursa’s nitelife anyone??), would never dream of stealing a Tuesday Tea mug, and, of course, each of them will write for StudLife.
This undercover plan comes right out of the office of Chancellor Martin, but has been met with wide approval among biased test groups. The WashU Career Center enthusiastically approved this plan to expand their alumni network, and the Board of Trustees believes that cloning is the key to expanding our endowment (now they can charge parents twice!).
Unfortunately some shortcomings remain in the Med School’s ability to genetically modify these clones: try as they might, they just can’t seem to make WashU students athletic. Researchers believe it will be years before technology can perform that kind of a miracle.
Also in the process of cloning, WashU conducted their own 23andMe. Unsurprisingly, 74% of WashU’s student body is Ashkenazi Jewish with an ancestor from a New York suburb, 88% of WashU has anxiety, and 22% of WashU is in the 1%”.