Student Submits Blank Page for Mid-Term Paper: “Professor Won’t Read It Anyway”

You’re fighting for your life, sweating bullets on a flag room couch. You got in a wrestling match with a Kyle Field bat and the bat won. He whooped you faster than a junior-by-hours. He beat the 12th man out of you. You better be glad he let you keep on ever-living… ever-loving… You’re alive, but now you feel it coursing through your veins: pure rage in the form of a viral infection. Sure you could get treatment, but old army’s tougher than that. Reveilles 1 through 8 would be rolling in their graves. There’s only one redass, good bull way to handle this. Say it with me now. BEAT. THE. HELL. OUTTA. RABIES. Whoop!