The Mugdown’s Guide to a DIY Aggs-orcism
This Halloween season is sure to be fraught with many a terror, but none can come close to the absolute horror of a two-percenter in your backyard. Luckily, The Mugdown is here to keep you safe during these trying times. This step-by-step Aggs-orcism guide will help you instill the Aggie spirit in even the least dedicated among us.
To begin, you must procure the uniform of a cadet from Gator 2 Company. Yes, it has to be this company specifically. No, you don’t get to know why. The uniform must be worn as vestment during the act.
Next, the ceremony calls for a relic to channel the spirits of the Aggies of yore to fight off the unholy, definitely T.U.-related demons plaguing your red-ass home. The best place to find such a relic is the annual bike sale hosted by the Texas A&M Surplus Property Office. These holy objects, infused with the sweat of a million 12th Men and the maroon blood of the purest of freshmen, are the perfect vessels for the job.
You will also need a rosary to perform all mandatory prayers. It is to be made of 62 of the pennies left as an offering to our Lord and Savior Lawrence Sullivan Ross. So what if a student fails their organic chemistry midterm because you stole their good luck charm? You’re serving a higher purpose.
As a liturgical tool, you will need a copy of Mike Elko’s employment contract, printed at the most hidden printer in the building on the farthest corner of campus. Not only do you need to have it, you need to understand it. So, break out those annotating tools you told yourself you’d use in your textbooks. It’s time to figure out what “winning the conference title” actually means.
Finally, you will need to mix one part sweat from a stressed-out BIMS major and two parts water wrung from a pond hopping freshman’s shirt. This mixture will act as the holiest of waters and aid you in your Aggs-orcism.
With these tools, ten Daddy Welshes and twelve Farmers Fight prayers, your faithless peers should either abruptly move out of town or start adopting maroon and white into their wardrobes.
May the Twelfth Man be with you,
The Mugdown
— Boot in My Mouth & Stephen Ring
Stephen Ring does not merely write psychologically thrilling satire, he lives it every day. Ring’s life is characterized by uncanny, paranormal and shuddersome happenings both on and off campus. For example, when Ring once spent twelve hours straight writing satire in Evans Library, each of his twelve fingers spontaneously turned into an Olive Garden breadstick before falling off and rolling down the stairs into the Starbucks line. Ring swears that once, while driving down Texas Avenue on a foggy night, a stampede of the ghosts of all nine Reveilles past were led in front of his car by the partially blind Rev X. Rev X spoke to him telepathically, imparting the cryptic message “My third eye sees that The Mugdown is the greatest student organization to ever come out of Texas A&M University.” Stephen Ring gained his two extra fingers when a Yell Leader granted him a special wish. Ring wished to have twelve fingers to be able to wear twelve Aggie rings at all times because he believed they would ward off evil spirits.