Cyber-Reveille Hailed as Head of Mascot Warfare
Texas A&M University released a statement earlier this morning announcing the launch of a daring new procedure aimed at ensuring the present and future safety of Texas A&M and The United States as a whole.
“In the wake of the removal of Miss Reveille’s eye, we have been forced to confront the limitations of modern mascot technology,” said interim President Tommy Williams. “In order to survive in the dangerous world of college sports in the 2020s, we need to become something more. To have something more. A protector.”
The College of Engineering, in conjunction with the Corps of Cadets, has already initiated the training stages of a bold new medical process that sources claim will grant Reveille abilities beyond those of a flesh-and-blood collie. The current slate of procedures would supplement her duties as a mascot and prepare Texas A&M to survive the daily realities of the harsh intramural techno future.
“We have the technology,” said Dr. Barnabus Sterling of the newly founded Department of Post-Organic Life. “We can make her better. Faster. Stronger. The ultimate sol–sorry, I mean mascot.”
News of Reveille’s expanded arsenal of mascot-based abilities is already a hit among students..
“Have you seen Bevo? He’s got size, but I’d like to see him take on a superdog with laser eyes, he’d get SMOKED man,” said mechanical engineering junior Patrick Calding.
Sources say that Reveille’s new abilities may have broader national defense implications.
“I won’t mince words,” said an anonymous government source stepping out of his tinted black SUV. “The Department of War is very interested in how these new and improved mascots can be used to bring college sports and freedom to the places that need it most, like Iran, China, Venezuela, Canada, or California or my ex-wife’s house.”
As of today, sources deny claims of going too far in meddling with a power that mankind ought to leave where it lies. Further claims from an unnamed Rudder Plaza doomsday prophet declaring Cyber-Reveille to be the herald of a new-birthed machine god were similarly denied.
— Cult Zealot
He’s not in a cult, he’s just an English major, which is honestly worse. Cult Zealot treats every assigned reading like sacred scripture and every class discussion like a sermon no one asked to attend. He doesn’t “like” books, he is devoted to them, and will absolutely corner you after class to explain why you “missed the deeper meaning” of “The Cat in the Hat.” You’ll hear him before you see him, usually mid-monologue about feminism, punk rock or why your favorite author is “problematic.” We’re not saying he’s trying to convert you…but if you walk away questioning everything you’ve ever read, just know he’s claimed another one.