The fruits of your labor

By Eric Brinling

Ripe Fruit: How To Know When Produce Is Ready To Eat

You wake up. It was all a dream. The coronavirus, the Trump presidency, the imminent environmental apocalypse, all of it. You sit up and rub your eyes, which are grapes. Your fingers are plump little bananas. It’s another fruity spring day of your freshfruit year at the University of Cherry Pitsburgh. 

    You check the clementime on your phoneydew. It’s late. You jump out of bedfruit and go to brush your teeth (which are snowberries) with jelly, or whatever the toothpaste equivalent is in your fruit-themed world. You’re meeting up with your old fruit school friend Jackfruit for the first clementime this semester, and you don’t want to be late. Finally, someone to wine to about how depressed (as in a wine press) and lonely you feel. 

    You head to the lawn below the Cathedral of Pearning and wait on a bench plum for your friend. To your annoyance, you have to wait for several persimminutes before Jackfruit arrives. Finally, you see him walking past the Thomas E. Star-Fruit statue. 

    “Hey Jackfruit, how’s it hanging?” you ask politely in the customary way that fruits greet each other.

    “Grape!” he says, more enthusiastically than you had hoped. You had expected him to have a similar calabur of general meloncholy to yours. His fruity play on the word ‘great’ took you by surprise, and not in a good way.

    “Why’s that?” you ask, your voice close to betraying your cavendisinterest.

    “I went on a date!” says Jackfruit, his pearly snowberries showing a wide, banana-shaped smile.

    “With who?”

    “Do you remember Melonie?”

    Of course, you remember Melonie. In your despearate attempts to find friendly fruits last semester you went to some lemon’s party at Carnegie Melon. There you met Melonie, whom you introduced to Jackfruit. You thought you had a fine fruitship with her, but your cornuspondence* had grown berry slow of late. Now, you suppose, you know why.

    But you just say, “Yes.”

    “Well,” says Jackfruit, “we’ve been hanging out (as fruits do) for a while now and I think we make a really good pear.”

    “Good to pear,” you say after a short pawpause.

    “What?”

    “Pear, you know, like hear. Maybe it’s better when read in text than when spoken aloud,” you hope that to be the case, but you also know it might have just been a bad joke. But it was easy. Low hanging fruit, so to speak. 

    “Ah okay. Well, I have to prune off, I’m afraid. Melonie will be raisin hell if I don’t get to lunch to watch her eat her fruit salad.”

    “No, yeah, that’s fine. I have to call my cran-ma and grand-papaya anyways,” you lie, having no intention to call your elderberries. 

    You watch the mango. You know in the peach pit of your stomach that this is the last clementime you’ll see him for a long while. You wish you would have said, “Orange you glad I introduced you two?” or “Please hang out with me more, Jackfruit, I’m cripplingly lonely,” but your wit was not quick enough. 

    You sigh and reflect on it all. You started the day with two friends, or so you thought, and ended with zero. Maybe you should’ve never introduced Melonie and Jackfruit. Maybe you should’ve just tried harder. You really did give it your best, but it seems that others have harvested the fruits of your labor. And what are you left with when it’s all said and done? Kumsquat!

*Important note: this is not, in fact a pun on the word ‘corn’ but rather a pun on the word ‘cornus’, a genus of fruit-bearing trees. Corn is not a fruit, so that wouldn’t work. Now that I’ve explained the joke, it’s hilarious, right?

Coaching Deity Pat Narduzzi Reveals Secret Strategy to Win Football Games

By Evan Rafferty

Author’s Note: This article was written long ago, based on an alternative timeline in which the author still felt happiness. When the sun still rose in the morning, the birds sang their cheerful songs, when Pitt didn’t absolutely blow it against NC State, and bungle it against Boston goddamn College. Football only serves as a chilling reminder that nothing will change, nobody loves you, and it doesn’t get better, so don’t get your hopes up. Until next Saturday.

    That’s right, nerds. Close that textbook. Put away that laptop. It’s time to watch our lads sling some pigskin and slam a bunch of losers into the dirt. What do you mean there’s a once-in-a-lifetime pandemic going on? Shut up, it’s football season.

Unless you’re actually dumb, then you know that our Pitt Panthers opened up the 2020 season with absolutely dominating victories over a bunch of posers that call themselves the Austin Peay State University “Governors,” and a basket of oranges hailing from Syracuse. Who knew you could grow citrus in upstate New York? Anyway, if you know anything about the greatest sport in America, you could probably deduce that this means that Pitt is once again the best team in the nation (Don’t @ me, Clemson. See you on November 28th). But for Pitt and their head coach, Pat “The Thunder of Southern Connecticut” Narduzzi, with great power rankings comes great responsibility. The Panthers have an obligation, a moral imperative, to enlighten the mass media and give some insider information on just how the Panthers have gotten off to such a hot start. However, despite the onslaught of reporters foaming at the mouth, begging for an iota of detail behind the team’s victories, none have been successful at getting the coaching staff to spill the beans. It was time to bring in the big guns, the A-team, the best detective that upper campus has to offer: me.

    With help from my god complex and the motivation from my self-condemned Sisyphean struggle to try and inform the stupid common man, I was able to call in a few favors, whip up a little blackmail, and break into Heinz Field by disguising myself as a ketchup bottle in order to get a one-on-one interview with the man, the myth, the legend himself, Patrick Regan Narduzzi. While you might have expected someone to be surprised or scared by a walking, talking, stalking, popping, and locking tomato sauce container approaching you and screaming out of excitement, Narduzzi paid no attention to my presence. The man’s a stoic. His eyes were glued to a screen playing the entirety of Louisville’s offensive film at 139x speed, faster than any normal human could comprehend. That’s when I knew I had something special to report, and I had to go deeper than simple observation. It took a super-secret Pentagon safe word used to bring government agents out of their natural brain-washed state, ‘Linguini,’ to awaken the coach from his game-day preparation hibernation. 

    Narduzzi’s head snapped toward me with the incredible speed of someone snapping their head towards someone at an alarmingly fast rate. His eyes began to glow, a haunting shade of Pitt Royal™, HEX #003594.

A voice from deep within the Allegheny mountains rumbled to life and spoke from the language of the ancient gods, blasting directly into my temporal lobe: “Quid est bonum, fratrem?

“W-Well, your Duzziness,” I stuttered, trying and failing to maintain my composure and credibility in the face of greatness. “I have come before you to beg, to plead for a scoop. How have the Panthers grown into the greatest football team in football history, in such a short amount of football time? What’s the football secret- a new formation, a trick play, a UPMC-developed football steroid?”

Do not fear, my child. I was but a curious mortal once, as well. I will give you the answers you seek… for a price,” the coach said, a sly grin creeping across his face. 

“But of course, your Duzziness. Hell, I’d give an arm and a leg to learn the process behind the best football team in the wo-”

 I woke up in UPMC Presbyterian 4 days and 12 hours later, missing two of my most trusted and loved appendages. Sorry if the helicopter woke you up again, that was probably me. As my mind repaired itself from my encounter with such a powerful figure, I felt an object materialize in my pocket out of thin air. I reached down with my remaining arm and retrieved a note, a message from Patrick Narduzzi himself. Written with the blood of a Nittany lion (whatever that is), on ancient parchment made of the skin of a Mountaineer, the memorandum spoke thus:

Victory is not found in singular glory, or modern scheme

To win, one must score more points than the opposing team.

    My hippocampus began to shake, collapsing in on itself from the weight of pure godly knowledge that had just made its way into my brain. Every kind of doctor you can think of rushed into the room to try and save my life. An epinephrine injection directly into the brain stem, a defibrillator, and fourteen kinds of essential oils attempted to keep my very soul in its flesh casing, but all of them failed.

I write this account to you, dear reader, from the world beyond. I trust you with this message, and that you will use it to do good in the world. Just know that when January rolls around and Pitt is playoff-bound, the famed “Kenny Heisman” theorem of scoring more points than the other team, developed by Coach Narduzzi, and whatever Lovecraftian Yinzer lord lies within him, is what brought them there. Hail to Pitt.       

A Message from Dean Bonner (updated to contain information we obtained by answering the sphinx’s 69 riddles)

By the writers of the Pittiful News;original email: corrections made in bold

Dear my little sources of income– I mean– Pitt students,

Today, the University (and by university I mean me, like who else is sending these emails?) announced that the Pittsburgh campus plans to move out but still see the kids on weekends from the Elevator Risk to the Gwuarded Wrist Posture, on Monday, Oct. 34, assuming that there are no significant changes in weather conditions. It’s Pittsburgh. In October. Say goodbye to the sun for a while, seriously. Moving to the Guardians of The Galaxy Risk Posture offers us new flexibility, (in more ways than one-we can do the splits now!) and it is the direct result of irresponsible little shits’ behavior and compliance with health and safety guidelines. You have earned this by working together as a community! I’m talking to you, freshman who gather at Flagstaff in groups of 100+ every weekend, this is because of you! I feel even less bad this year for retroactively raising your tuition by $30K. Hell may be hot, but I love a tropical climate. 

What will this change mean for you and your body?

(For more guidance, please reference that American Girl Doll puberty book, available at Hillman Library) 

Please note that these changes do NOT begin until Monday, Oct. 34.  Gwuarded uwu Risk also does not mean that we are returning to a pre-pandemic way of operating and physically, mentally, or sexually engaging with each other (exceptions may be made sexually). We’re still not back to normal, I don’t think I can ever feel normal again. Especially not after the bad trip I had last night with the Provost. I also want to emphasize that you will still need to wear your Axe body spray, follow physical lifting guidelines and practice good genital hygiene. Stay sexy, you dirty dogs!

  •     Instructors may begin to offer more parts of themselves to someone who doesn’t appreciate it. Fall in love with someone who doesn’t care, lose themselves in the moment as well as in-person instruction in most classes. Students still have the choice to attend class remotely if they prefer to watch soft porn in bed while having “technical difficulties.” Watch for more communication from your instructors about specific changes to sexual satisfaction.
  •     We will offer bone-in options at select on-cam-pussy boning centers, with limited glory holes and specific health and safety guidelines. Please pay attention to and personally thank all signage in the boning facilities. Additional details will be provided whenever I goddamn please, fuckhead.
  •     Students should continue to be held in my warm, loving arms. However, student organizations will be eligible to host in-cahoots events, with a limited number of nerds and if their club is cool (greek life people if ur reading this can I come to the next party? lol). Students will still be required to wear proper undergarments, physically distance and practice good handjobs at these events.
  •     At this time, the guest policy in the residence halls will not change. You are still limited to 4 prostitutes per academic term (note: staff members are an exception to this rule).
  •     Time Travel guidelines for student organizations will not change. Please limit your personal time travel. If you do time travel, please quarantine for 14 years after traveling. You will need to remain on-campus and will have to continue paying for your housing.
  •     Student Affairs with staff members will continue to destroy families virtually.
  • The meal plans will remain shitty and not what you signed up for. Enjoy your $150 dolling diners, dumbass. 
  • Student spaces and some offices in the William Pitt Union the Elder may begin to offer in-person hours, with unlimited capacity, we are breaking the laws of physics to make sure you get COVID. We will share more details about these plans next week.

The Gwuarded Risk Posture still requires to be loved by someone as much as she loves them, is that too much to ask for? and our responsible behavior. Each of us needs to continue to do our part to safeguard the stash of weed in the mouth of the panther statue. If that gets stolen again, I can and will cry. I want to remind you, too ;), that the rest of the term still offers us some spicy challenges. Halloween is just around the corner, and it’s a great time to experiment with your budding sexuality, become a goblin, relax and rawdog—but Halloween 2020 isn’t going to be “normal, or fun,” either. We expect that you will follow Pitt’s fun and fresh guidelines on Halloween, too. Enjoy being miserable you fuckers, I had my four years of college halloweekends. (They were mf awesome btw). Shout out the homies in Pike!

In addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, shifting realities to Hogwarts like all the youths on TikTok and maintaining our emotionally Gwuarded Mindset Risk Posture—with new privileges and equality for all walks of life, comrades unite! and opportunities—is contingent upon our community suckling at the teat of Pitt’s health and safety guidelines, low Rice Purity scores and other county and city factors. If positive cases of chlamydia go up or compliance with paying for my new Tesla via your tuition goes down, then we will remain at or return to an Elevator or Wet ‘n’ Wild Posture quickly; I won’t hesitate, bitch. 

Let’s continue to show the world the ööPower of ööPitt! I will check in with you, face to face, body to body, mouth to mouth, next week with more intimate details about our shift to the Gwuarded Risk posture. Until then, remember to take some shots so you don’t look like a loser this weekend, call Student Health Institution for Testing (SHIT) if you have STD symptoms or do not feel sick af (724-359-4394) and turn up!

The facts don’t care about your feelings,

Kenyon Renyon Boner

Rice Provost and Dean’s Milk of Students

If you or a loved one has been affected by the Coronavirus, you may be entitled to compensation! Not from us though, hand over that housing deposit, lol. 

Racist Zombie man comes to Pitt and an Update on the Broader Zombie Apocalypse

By ?????

               As many of you may know, there is a crazy pandemic going on right now. There are a bunch of zombies wandering the streets. On Pitt’s campus we have been pretty good at not letting zombies wander around. However, this is about to change as our Zombie in Chief is coming to campus. He plans to not bite anyone of color. Those of you who do not have the complexion of vampires, you are safe for now, but once he amasses his hoard, you may need to run up north, where they don’t have zombies, just overly aggressive geese and moose (mooses? meese?).

               Why is Zombie man coming to town? To the best of my knowledge he is looking to make more zombies, hopefully not in 9 months with porn stars.  Right now, it seems that once Zombie man gets to town, he will hold large events where zombie enthusiasts sit very close together and are asked to bite the people they are sitting near. I suggest that everyone who does not want to become a zombie should stay inside their own Zombie apocalypse bunker. I am staying in mine, and luckily my zombie gf has not given me a hickey in a while.

               If you run into a zombie, the best way to protect yourself from them is to ask them about choices, that will keep them occupied long enough that you have time to escape. Becoming a zombie does not just make you insanely sexy, it also makes it harder to run and breath. Right now there is no cure for being a zombie, however as you kill more zombies in call of duty zombies, you become less of a zombie.

               In news off campus, the governor of Michigan was kidnapped by Zombie Man Fans. She has been returned but we suspect that she will soon be a zombie, as there is a zombie incubation period. The zombies involved in this kidnapping have temporarily been sent to prison but Zombie Man has hinted at releasing them from prison. Why we gave Zombie Man the ability to release zombies from their cells is beyond me but we can stop him from having an eternity of making other people Zombies by voting for the only person who likes to make phone calls, he likes making them so much that he calls many people every day

Overall, stay inside, do not make out with zombies (I know it can be hard, my zombie gf has been locked in the shed so she does not bite me or my family), vote for phone call guy, and most importantly wear your zombie resistant shoulder pads as that limits the spread of being a zombie.

An Exclusive Interview With the Rats of Lothrop Hall

By Ella Mizera

As a human resident of 190 Lothrop Street, I too often make the mistake of only paying attention to residents of my own species. It’s a species-wide blind spot that I believe stems from a societal impulse to declare ourselves superior to other animals, our level of technology, our height, and (loath though I am to say it) plain old species-ism.

For too long, the Pittiful News has been dominated by the affairs of humans. It’s time to give a voice to our fellow residents who live, work, and play just as we do– yet so often go unnoticed.

These are the rats of Lothrop Hall.

Interviewer (Ella Mizera): Could you please introduce yourself?

Reginald Rattington III: Most certainly, my dear. My name is Reginald Rattington III, freelance omnivore, part-time de facto resident of Lothrop Hall, citizen of the world, statesman, and lover of life. My hobbies include calligraphy, golf, and enjoying the Pittsburgh nightlife, if you know what I mean. 

EM: (cautious) I’m not sure I do.

RR: Rats are nocturnal. It’s– that was a joke.

EM: Oh! Yes. (forced laughter) Anything else you enjoy, Mr. Rattington?

RR: I enjoy long walks on the beach, and my favorite show is the Office.

EM: How–

RR: US version.

EM: … Obviously.

RR: Obviously.

(There is a pause as the interviewer struggles for words.)

EM: So, er, Reginald–

RR: Oh, please do call me Reggie. Reginald was my father. 

EM: Reggie. Let me just say, it’s great to see you again. You’re looking well.

RR: Thank you so much. And thank you for having me, truly. It’s really quite refreshing, you know, to be welcomed with open arms by the University of Pittsburgh’s most popular and engaging paper.

EM: Not a problem.

RR: I mean, it really beats being chased from room to room with a rolled-up magazine right on my tail, scurrying for my life between dorm furniture.

EM: I said I was sorry about that before we started recording.

RR: No hard feelings, darling. The Rattingtons are a sturdy clan. You probably didn’t notice it was me–

EM: No, of course not.

RR: –Perhaps you mistook me for Ralph, or God forbid, Randy.

EM: I’m sorry, who are they?

RR: Whom, Ralph and Randy? Oh, no, don’t put them on the record. Nothing to worry about, not in the slightest. They’re simply my no-good cousins from Towers. 

EM: I see.

RR: They keep insisting they’ll move out and find their own place. Well, it’s been years, and they still show no signs of budging. Not a centimeter*. At least the overflowing trashcans at the Towers are supplying them well, so I won’t have to wire them money this month.

(*A centimeter is a small unit of length equal to approximately 0.4 inches, for those of you who are humanities majors. –Ed.)

EM: Hold up, rats can wire money?

RR: We’re not animals, you know. (scoffs) Really, the rudeness of it all!

EM: I’m very sorry to offend, but would you mind telling us what rats use money for?

RR: I say! We use money for the same things you do– paying bills, buying groceries, getting fur cuts, going to nail salons.

(He shows off his very well-done nails and I have no choice but to marvel at them.)

RR: Really, I might ask of you “what do you humans use those freakishly large brains for?” Obviously not critical thinking, or you’d have already grasped the basics of rat society.

EM: Well, we mostly use it to “forget” that the mask goes over your nose.

RR: Hm? Oh, that plague I keep hearing about. Horrendous, horrendous mess you’ve made. Makes me glad I’m a rat, to be honest. 

EM: I suppose you rats don’t have a pandemic to deal with?

RR: To think! No, we learned proper hygiene the hard way in the 40s and haven’t looked back since. 

EM: Excuse me, the 40s?

RR: 1340s, darling, do try to keep up. I find it quite remarkable, actually: you lot are spreading this one all by yourselves! 

(We share a laugh that reflects the pleasure of bonding with another soul in these plague-ridden times as well as the deep and unending bitterness at the state of the world.)

EM: Now tell me, Reggie, what projects are you working on right now?

RR: Well as you know, I’ve always been a spokesperson for the Lothrop rat community. Ever since I was a little ratling! 

EM: I’m sure.

RR: And now! To be interviewed by the Pitt News! Why, my mother always told me, “Reggie, I know times are hard for us rats right now. But one day, I know it, you’ll be famous as any human, getting photographed, making headlines, giving interviews. That’s the day rats start being respected around here.” That’s what my mother told me (may she rest in cheese) and I’ll be damned if it didn’t just come true. The Pitt News… (he sighs dreamily)

EM: Um, Mr. Rattington, I think there’s been a mistake. I’m here with the Pittiful News, not the Pitt News. 

(There is a long pause. Finally, Reggie sighs in disappointment.)

EM: (clearly dejected that she does not write for the rat’s preferred news source) Thank you for your time.

Songs That the Pittiful News Writers Have Stuck In Their Heads Right Now

By: the writers of the Pittiful News 

Try and match the songs with the writers! (email us with your results at pittifulnews@gmail.com, subject line fw:fw:fw: Cousin Nathan’s Bar Mitzvah and how the left is destroying the world) 

  1. The hollow ringing sound of putting my metal straw into my metal tumbler in the middle of the night when I’m trying to not wake my roommate up as I have my midnight skim milk 
  2. Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande
  3. King Tut by Steve Martin
  4. WAP (Medieval Remix)
  5. Tequila by The Champs
  6. O Canada sung by Fergie (if at first you don’t succeed…)
  7. A low beating from inside the walls, as if someone were begging to be let out. 
  8. Margaritaville by Jimmy Buffet
  9. Margaritaville by Jimmy Buffet, but every line ends with sponge cake
  10. Brick House by the Commodores
  11. The Kill Bill sirens
  12. Soulja Boy’s 2008 hit, Kiss Me Thru The Phone, but only the phone number part
  13. The Weenie Man song
  14. Cheeseburger in Paradise by Jimmy Buffett
  15. It’s 5 O’Clock Somewhere by Jimmy Buffett
  16. *ominous Latin chanting*
  17. Two Trucks
  18. A horde of local theater kids’ rendition of Seasons of Love from RENT
  19. The sirens in the background of Bonfire by Childish Gambino. No, mom, this doesn’t have any deeper meaning.
  20. Atomic Dog by George Clinton (you may know this little ditty from the cinematic masterpiece that is Legally Blonde 2: Red, White, and Blonde)
  21. lofi hip hop radio beats to relax/study to
  22. The ear-splitting “YUM” that comes from the speakers at my local Red Robin every 30 minutes
  23. Trap bangers about cocaine as I walk through my majority-white upper class suburb
  24. Sweet Caroline but with the Migos vocals from Carpool Karaoke
  25. Contemporary Christian rock
  26. The sounds of the phone number for the closest pizza place being dialed, only to realize it’s been closed for 40 years
  27. Avatar’s Love, but sad
  28. The concept of a zucchini being thrown at a cat
  29. A math teacher being stabbed multiple times because she said that she could explain something multiple ways but continues to only explain it one way
  30. Yer A Wizard Harry but he keeps saying Harry is more things
  31. I’m A Barbie Girl sung by the Russian military
  32. North Korean accordion music
  33. Any song by Weird Al Yankovic 
  1. Tyler
  2. Abby
  3. Morgan
  4. Ella
  5. Savnah (edited for space)
  6. Evan
  7. Sarah
  8. Eric
  9. Jermy Jordan
  10. Tyler but with a knife in his hand
  11. Ivana Tinkle
  12. Jerry Sandusky’s goldfish
  13. That one Denny’s waitress who gave me extra ranch without asking and I subsequently fell in love with her
  14. Steve Buscemi
  15. Maxamillion Von Hammerslag
  16. Perry the Platypus, sans fedora
  17. Sans Undertale, wearing a fedora
  18. Pittiful News Writer #6
  19. Lionel Richie
  20. Kermit the Frog
  21. Steve Buscemi (but in comic sans) (font changed for formatting purposes)
  22. President Vladimir Putin
  23. KGB leader Vladimir Putin
  24. Ex and Future Prime Minister Vladimir Putin
  25. Once and Future King Pladimir Vutin
  26. Legolas Greenleaf
  27. Charles Entertainment Cheese
  28. Tyler, but this time he is talking about empires of the steppe
  29. Tyler, but this time he’s a spider who won the popular vote for president but was then sent to jail, this of course is a possible outcome of the upcoming election, vote Alfred E. Newman for president
  30. Alfred E. Newman
  31. You
  32. Jerry Seinfeld
  33. A Yankee Candle employee

How I got banned from Chuck E Cheese

By Tyler Sikov

Before I start this story, I would like to mention that this happened before we were all trapped inside of our houses all day long. Now that that disclaimer is out of the way I will tell you why I was at Chuck E Cheese. I was doing my normal weekend routine of going to places populated by children and just hanging out. This weekend was particularly hard on my because my girlfriend, who is also my cousin’s hamster, broke up with me. We have only been dating about a month but that is like 30 years in hamster time. Because of this sad event happening I needed a bit more cheering up so I go to Chuck E Cheese.

               I went to Chuck E Cheese a number of times while I was a kid and I always enjoyed it. Now at the end of my life, early 20s, I wanted to play some more games before I am gone. By play games I obviously mean cheat. I would stand on the ski ball machines and just drop the balls into the highest point goal, I won many tickets. As a person who is the same age as many of the workers I could pass as one of them so no one questioned why I would be opening up all of the machines or taking prizes from the shelves and putting them into my car.

               Once I was done playing the games, I went over to listen to some music but it was not nearly hype enough. I had to do something about this. So, I go and reprogram the band to play WAP. I knew that the band could not hype up the crowd without some help so I jump on stage and start shredding this song. Right at the end of the song I stage dive into the crowd of adoring fans. I neglected to notice that all of my fans were 6-year-olds so I squished a few of them but that is fine, their parents can always make more without too long of a setback.

               I leave the music zone and go head towards the big pot of peas. I always love eating these multi colored peas that you need to take your shoes off before getting into the pot. I also love that there are many kids always swimming around in this big bowl, they add a bit of extra flavor to this rainbow pea soup. After eating most of the peas I am still hungry so I head to the salad bar and start eating many of the different dishes. After eating a bunch of plates and bowl I make myself two salads, the first I put on a plate for now and the other I pour into the trench coat I have been wearing the entire time in this establishment. I have also been wearing a top hat, a monocle, holding a cane and in a Mr. peanut costume.

               As I have to feed the 12 tape worms I keep safely in my stomach I am still hungry after that. I decide to go over and pick up a small child and eat him. He was surprisingly tasty, I had never eaten a person before, but I mean aren’t kids just appetizer people. I was getting some strange looks at this point so I decide to go and eat several more children in the tube climbing structure. Luckily once I get up there, they have no escape so I fill up on these small children.

               Once I get down from the climbing structure an employee comes up and asks me what child I brought with me. I tell him I just ate several kids and he told me he did not care, but that I needed to have a kid to come to Chuck E Cheese. I did not want to leave so I regurgitated a child and tossed him through a nearby window. I then shape shifted into Slenderman and siphoned the gas out of everyone else’s cars and filled up Chuck E Cheese with gasoline, lit it on fire and drove off. When I got home Chuck E Cheese himself appearing outside my window telling me I could not step foot in a Chuck E Cheese ever again. He should have been more specific because I went to another Chuck E Cheese and levitated all around the place. The night after I got back from my levitation, he showed up again and told me he was impressed by my chaotic energy and told me that I was banned from coming back to Chuck E Cheese ever again. I asked him what was stopping me and he removed his mascot head to reveal that he was actually Danny DeVito on Stilts. I bowed down before his majesty and have not been back to Chuck E Cheese ever since.

What the club you quit after one GBM says about you

By the Writers of the Pittiful News

Student Government Board: you got disillusioned with the american political system at way too young an age

Italian Club: not enough Buca di Bepo field trips

Jarjar kinks club: you’re not Tyler Sikov

Any a capella group: you watched Pitch Perfect and only enjoyed it a Normal Amount, okay? (and Pitch Perfect 2. And Pitch Perfect 3.)

Imagination project: you’re a disney adult that hates children and was only in it for the cosplay. 

Club Sandwich: You ate it, and there was nothing left for the next week.

Student Organization Resource Center: You realized it was an office, not a club.

Chocolate Milk Club: the lactaid wasn’t provided

Any club sport: You were a JV junior who TOTALLY could’ve gone pro, if it weren’t for that career ending papercut.  You decided club sports would take time away from your life of leisure and spikeball.  Also, why do you feel the need to slap your friends on the ass when they score points? Why the ass-slapping?  

Golf Club: They just gave you a golf club

Improv: you realized you still had a shot at having a social life. 

Any christian club: you went to the first GBMs of 20 different ones and realized they’re all the same, so you decided to give up. Or you’re Tyler Sikov.

Blue and Gold Society: you’re colorblind 

Greek life: not enough spray tan. 

Anime club: they told me in the first meeting that Naruto wasn’t a real person :(

Quidditch: you’re a “oh I like harry potter” person, not a “i sleep in hufflepuff themed sheets” person. 

Outdoors club: you’re agoraphobic

The Math Club: They gave you pizza the first time and then only gave out werther’s originals at future meetings

The Back to the Future Club: where you try to go back and, um, you know, um, with your mom, but then Biff shows up and um, tries to you know, um, but your dad stops him

Rick and Morty Club: he turns himself into a pickle, Morty. Funniest shit you’ve never seen.

Spanish Club: You don’t speak spanish

Cathy Club: You looked at yourself in the mirror and came to the depressing realization that no one will love you, ever.

Any theater club: you declined to join the giant orgy that they have after every performance

Business Club: You’re not a business student?

Film club: your knowledge of independent film studios doesn’t go beyond A24

French club: You DO speak french, you just have a terrible accent and they just immediately identify you as American and make fun of you

Turning Point USA club: You grew a brain cell.

Bird watching club: they did not plan on making watches for birds as advertised 

Indie music club: You’re not a gatekeeper or a gaslighter. Or they gatekept you from becoming  an official member and gaslighted you into believing you didn’t want to join. 

Pitt Amnesty: You voted for Donald Trump

Pitt Amnesia: What club?

Shuffleboard Club: you’re under the age of 65

Any LGBT club: they told you simply wearing large earrings and/or being on alt tiktok doesn’t actually make you LGBT 

Redeye Theater Project: not a bunch of stoners.

Pitt Men’s Glee club: When i told them i’m not gay they said “for now”

Gardening Club: You wanted to be a cottagecore ho but irl you can’t take care of a plant, or any other lifeform for that matter.

Olive Garden Club: we gott-a unlimited breadsticks, you must-a eat them all

Kenny BonBon’s Mani-pedi Mondays: You expected to unlock the truth of what on God’s green earth a “provost” is and why she keeps emailing us. You had no such luck.

Pitt Pole Dancing: You don’t have what it takes, which is a gorilla grip cooter. I do, though, lol. 

Classical Civilization Club: they promised you Catullus 16, but what you really got was Catullus 101.

Geography Club: They don’t even listen to Maps by Maroon 5

Austrian Club: After leaving the previous club, you were disappointed to find out that this one didn’t wanna throw shrimps on the barbie

Panther Fly Fishing Club: who makes fishing rods that small?

Quiz Bowl: there was no halftime show 

American Society of Highway Engineers: they said their way IS the highway

JUM PST ART: they did not actually plan to make much art

Pitt Celibacy Club: F me am I right

PGH Incel: You thought it stood for Intercollegiate Cellists. You were wrong, but you’ll never be the same.

Pitt ROTC: You thought it stood for Recreational Octogenarian Tag Championship

Model UN: You had the idiotic idea of trusting Sweden.

Pitt Crossfit: You don’t have what it takes to be on American Ninja Warrior

Pitt E-Sports: No one wears deodorant

Pitt Billiards Club: What nerd calls it billiards? 

Anti-Maskers of Lower Campus: R.I.P. Gone, but not forgotten

Panther Central: You picked up the phone too early. Fired.

Pitt Emergency Club: You get kicked out of your dorm in the middle of Calculus homework because some idiot on the 4th floor pulled the fire alarm

Flex@Pitt: You thought you could learn a second language over Zoom, now you have a -0.37 GPA

Spoon Pittsburgh: You thought you might finally have some loving, human interaction. You left with a full stomach, but a hole in your heart.

Pitt Dance Marathon: Who hurt you? 

Pitt Inquisitorial Squad: You thought you would at least get extra credit for being Gallagator’s personal spy, but you don’t even get a wand :(

The Pitt News: you can get PAID for being in a club? And it’s MINIMUM WAGE?

Pitt EMS: you thought it stood for Extreme Men’s Sports. It doesn’t.

Ice-Cream Sundays: You aren’t actually allowed to eat the ice cream

Pitt Philosophy: They started talking about Sigmund Freud

Pitt Ping Pong Team: It was just a scam in order to get enough funding to go to a really expensive restaurant. 

Pitt Hikes: All they do is walk up and down cardiac hill.

PEN-Fifteen Club: they wrote it on your hand and suddenly you realized.

Jazz Club: it’s about the meetings you don’t go to.

Pitt Cthulhu Club: c̴̳̳̾̐t̶̰̐̏h̴͎̟̆͗̐̕ͅu̵͈͖͎̮͑͊͐l̷̝̓̍h̵̫͕̣̞̒͑̈́ṳ̷̑ ̷͇͂f̵̠̗͛̊͛̀’̸̜̔t̴̯͘ä̸̘̳͉̑̿ģ̵̪͉̍̂h̵̜͈̠̫͒̕n̷̪͝

Project Potter: You were the only person sorted into Ravenclaw and all they do are house activities so it’s just you awkwardly solving puzzles by yourself in a breakout room while the board members watch. This is not based on a true story. 

Game Dev Club: You thought playing Nintendogs made you a gamer.

Pitt Musical Theater Club: *gay panic*

Musical appreciation club: How does a bastard orphan son of a whore and a scotsman dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the caribbean by providence impoverished in squalor grow up to run such a horrible club

USITT: u stand.

UPTV: They wouldn’t let you produce your idea for a reboot of the cult classic “the room”

Student alumni association: You weren’t an overachiever in high school that got rejected from Cornell and ended up at their safety. 

PITTWAP: You didn’t realize that it stood for “we are panthers” 

Pittiful News: you read any of our articles.