Cameron Fitz, a sophomore at the University of Tulsa, was seen staggering around campus, begging people to help him out of his business suit. “I put this on in the hopes of successfully adulting, and now I can’t stop!” Fitz cried, tearing at his rapidly-greying hair.
It all started when Fitz donned his professional attire just to see how adulting really felt. “I just wanted to try it … just once … and now I’m stuck,” said Fitz, attempting to loosen his necktie. “It’s not just the suit anymore, it’s affecting my daily life. This morning I caught myself eating a full breakfast and reading the news.”
“Earlier today, I actually did my homework assignment that isn’t even due until this afternoon! And I put on real pants instead of — I have to take this,” Fitz paused as he took an “important business call” which quickly proceeded to become a Skype-for-Business call as Fitz pulled a whiteboard out of seemingly nowhere and started graphing the rise and fall of profits. Upon completion of the call, Fitz just shrugged and said, “It’s just business, man.”
That evening, Fitz was seen in Helmerich Hall, carrying a stack of wrinkled papers and sipping on a cup of coffee far past his caffeine-bed-time. Fitz had newly acquired glasses on his face, four pens in his shirt-pocket protector, and looked both disheveled and uncharacteristically qualified for whatever task could potentially be thrown at him. Throughout the course of one day, Fitz had gone from an average sophomore to being a prestigious member of the “Executive Advisory Board” for the entire college.
When asked about the pile of papers in his hand, Fitz informed State-Run reporters that students “just kept walking up, shaking [his] hand, and giving [him] their resumes. I really ought to get a padfolio to keep all of these organiz-” Fitz stopped mid-sentence, as he realized the professionalism of what he just said. “Please … help me.”
The State-Run Media is unable to comment at this time on whether they helped Fitz out of his suit or not.