Rabid lawn Roombas out for blood

The lawn Roombas get a taste for blood. Administration doesn’t care, but what else is new?

In August, TU bought two oversized Roombas to mow the grass in the Old U. They were quickly deemed harmless by everyone except the obsessive-compulsive students on campus, who were horrified when they looked upon the vast green and reportedly saw disgusting criss-crossed lines in the grass. The robots weren’t physically hurting anyone, that is, until the month-long warranty on which President Brad Carson had splurged expired.

Students recall the robots acting strange the first week of September. Where the robotic landscapers once followed long, straight paths in the greenery, they now whirr in circles making scary, weird clanking noises. Some students said they actually preferred the sound of the human lawnmower crew kicking up grass and pollen as they walked to class over whatever the hell those creepy ass Roombas were doing.

“They look like crop circles,” sophomore Jeremy Jergens stated, looking over his shoulder at what used to be the beautiful Dietler Commons. “Watch your back, bro. You know aliens are real, right?” Jergens continued to look over his shoulder periodically as he rushed off.

Later in the week, senior art major Willow Willis fell victim to a vicious attack as she cut across the green late at night. She sustained severe injuries to both achilles heels and was hospitalized after a freshman discovered her screaming on his way to a booty call. When asked for a statement, Willis said, “One second it was passing by and the next —” Willis trailed off in a fit of sobs, unable to complete the sentence.

On Friday, tragedy struck once again. Jonah Johns recounts the date he was having with his longtime girlfriend of two months. “We were having, like, a really good date. I’m serious. She actually might’ve been the one.” When pressed for details, Johns said, “We were lying on our picnic blanket in the Old U, because my skin is sensitive to the grass, of course, and I left to go take a piss. I wasn’t gone for more than five minutes, but when I came back she was gone! The blanket was shredded up and soaked in blood. Like, real blood! I looked around for her but she was just gone. I did find this, though.” Johns held up a broken pink acrylic nail. “It’s all I have left of her,” he added.

As more students began complaining about the dangerous lawn Roombas, TU administration realized they could no longer pretend to ignore the issue. An email blast was sent out Saturday morning, not really addressing but severely downplaying the Roomba related incidents. It warned students to steer clear of the Old U and to stop tampering with university equipment, which was the reason the robots were being provoked, according to administration. The email also stated that TU was not liable for damages to students or their property.

Since last week, five students have been reported missing by professors who take attendance and fellow students.

“How is this happening? Why is this happening?” A coordinator for resident life opens up about her son’s disappearance. “I can’t figure out why his Life 360 isn’t working! His last known location keeps popping up near the charging station by Lottie, but he’s not there!”

Students reportedly noticed a putrid smell and more flies than usual surrounding the charging bases in the last week. When Campo finally deemed it time to investigate after students conducted two petitions and a protest outside Collins Hall, they moved the charging bases and found remnants of bone and clothing underneath.

Due to the investment the board made into the robots, they have decided to remote wipe and reprogram the lawn Roombas despite an overwhelming response from students wishing to destroy them for their crimes.

“We can’t let that money go to waste,” one board member said, laughing in my face. “Do you even know how much we pay to make this goddamned campus look nice? Be grateful.”

Post Author: Shelby Hiens