The answer might surprise you.
On Wednesday, Oct. 16, economics professor Dr. Matthew Hendricks gave a presentation comparing TU’s allocation of funds to that of other colleges and universities. Many students I have talked to have praised Hendricks for his great use of graphs and straightforward explanation of our money usage. One student even said, “Dr. Hendricks was amazing! He makes economics look so fun!”
Recently, an associate approached me, and I was informed that all of Dr. Hendrick’s data was fabricated. You may be wondering, “Why would Dr. Hendricks fake the data?” The answer? He’s being paid off by the university to keep quiet about what our funding is really going towards.
You’re probably also wondering, “But if it’s fake, where did he get the data?”
Supported by the pharmaceutical industry, The University of Tulsa is putting a lot of effort into burying the true money trail. But why? Obviously, they don’t want us to know what they are actually doing with the money. So, where has the money really gone?
After doing some digging (Literally. They legit buried a path of Benjamins from Collins Hall to the College of Law), I have determined the answer … The Golden Hurricane, one of TU’s mascots.
What does that mean? It means there is a hurricane made purely out of gold waging war on the plains of Oklahoma. It is completely possible and the only logical explanation.
The administration withdrew the billion-dollar endowment from all departments it was funding and traded it for solid gold bars. The administration also convinced every investor to withdraw all money from programs and add their equivalent gold bars to the stash. Because of this, the administration had to cut all programs that weren’t receiving government funding. (They couldn’t very well tell the government to do the same as the common folk.)
Administration’s next step was to melt the gold down into one enormous vat. Stirring clockwise 665 times and then once again counterclockwise, the gold began to emit blue sparks and the scent of deceit. They then finished the dark spell to create a hurricane, which sucked up all the gold. The spell slightly backfired, however, because every three days or so, a gold bar will fly out of the tornado and hit a student in the head, which the administration has somehow managed to explain away as part of their fees.
The university’s president, Dr. Gerard Clancy (did you know he’s a doctor?), and provost, Janet Levitt, were spotted drawing yellow squiggly lines on the sidewalk in front of all academic buildings. When questioned, they said, “We’re just dropping hints about the big announcement that is to come at the last home football game on November 23.”
They wouldn’t disclose what this “big announcement” is, but we all know it will be the unveiling of the Golden Hurricane. They either have not considered Houston’s history with hurricanes or it’s all part of a larger revenge plot for homecoming last year.
If they’re willing to go this far over a measly fifteen point loss, how much farther are Clancy and Levitt willing to go against a kicker who can’t kick?