Battalion Writer Longs for Lavish Lifestyle of Mugdown Writer

Tired and depressed after a long day of searching for stories interesting enough to make Texas A&M students read a newspaper, Battalion writer Darrell Burgess buried his face in his palms and longed for the lavish and luxurious lifestyle of the typical Mugdown writer Wednesday evening.

“Oh, what I’d give to write for the premier news organization on campus!” Burgess said. “I’d enjoy mornings sipping mimosas with French models at my bedside before I went off to engage in real journalism. Instead of this tawdry little desk in the MSC underground, I would go to work at an office that dwarfs the Parthenon. The leading minds of our generation would schedule years in advance to stand in my presence, kiss my knuckles and pick my brain. When it came time to retire from my work, I’d have the keys to the MugMansion, their $10 million temple stocked with every hedonistic pleasure known to man. For my journalistic rigor, I’d be rewarded with nightly ragers that’d make Coachella look like a Chuck E. Cheese birthday party.”

Burgess slammed his fists on his desk. “Alas! I am condemned to inoffensive mediocrity— my words deemed truth without meaning, my work ignored without consequence and my greatest contributions forgotten with the modest passing of time. If only I were worthy of the Mugdown elite, whose very thoughts could topple empires, whose writings illuminate the soul and whose diametrically superior lives I covet with every fiber of my being.”

Sources confirm Burgess spent the night sobbing at his desk until he fell asleep in the throes of envy and turmoil.

 

—Hullakazoo