Nuclear Engineer Spares Campus from Final Exams
With finals season in full swing on campus, students with newfound skills and resources from their coursework are devising desperate plots to evade their exams. Among them is nuclear engineering senior Timothy Mitchell.
Mitchell plans to go beyond the classic fire alarm trick used by other students and has drawn blueprints for unleashing nuclear winter to avoid his PHYS 415 exam.
“We have two nuclear reactors on campus. It is simply a matter of triggering a meltdown,” said Mitchell “Prepare. For as dawn approaches, I will light in the sky above West Campus a new sun that will shine upon Aggieland.”
As word of Mitchell’s glorious revolution spreads, many have entered into a period of unseasonable jubilation.
“We will witness the birth of a new world,” said Mitchell to a mass of two dozen students from his class who were dancing exuberantly on the Memorial Student Center grass, “one without rules, order or exams!”
Others have responded differently, choosing instead to continue studying.
“It is not the nature of torment to end,” said Ella Montclair, one of the last remaining, sunken-eyed occupants of the Evan’s Library third floor.
While it is currently unclear whether Mitchell’s version of salvation will come to fruition, campus experts suggest that many would face their impending doom with thankful tears in their eyes, proclaiming their academic war to, finally, be over.
— HypochondriAg

What’s that blob walking down the sidewalk? It’s HypochondriAg in her sparkling clean biosafety level 4 suit! Going into medicine purely to cure every disease on the face of the earth, HypochondriAg has a singular focus in life. Once that last germ is eliminated with one of the many Lysol wipes found on her person, HypochondriAg will ascend from this earthly planet and morph into her final form – a being of pure antibiotics with betadine coursing through her veins. Initially causing strife in meetings by reinstating Covid-era mask mandates, skeptical Mugdown authors were quickly silenced by her award-winning work. From her air-locked and heavily filtered apartment, HypochondriAg pumps out the purest satirical articles ever featured in Mugdown history. Clearly, the only bug she’s caught in her life is the satire kind.
