Just a Band of Bros, Dudeee

Illustration by Smol Oof

The members of RIT’s 1829th Regiment came from different backgrounds, different parts of, like, the world and stuff. Some were engineers, others were also engineers, yet still more claimed to be engineers even though they definitely were not. 

Regardless of STEM or also-STEM backgrounds, our troops have been trudging through this war-torn land, fighting the good fight and givin’ ‘em hell.

You see, dude, it all started when President Wrestler announced his retirement. That man loved this campus, so we knew something was up when he announced his abdication. Shit just didn’t add up, man.

Turns out Munchkin was making money moves and went for the coup. As a final act of defiance, Wrestler gave his weather machine to the president of SG — at the time — Larry Banquet, for safekeeping. Banquet did pretty well with it. He got a tutorial from Wrestler so he knew all the quirks that weather machine had. Unfortunately, we lost Banquet in Operation: Graduation, and his climate expertise went with him.

Now, we have Bob Oakley running things. He was Banquet’s right-hand man, so he’s doing pretty well. There’s no substitute for genuine understanding of the weather machine, though. I mean look around ... he’s trying his best but we’ve had a polar vortex, windstorms, ice and I’m pretty sure I even saw a dragon once but that might’ve been for other reasons, you know? Yeah, you know.

One thing Oakley didn’t see coming when he took the job, though, was the sheer amount of anger and resentment Munchkin harbored for Wrestler over not getting that stupid machine. So, one gloomy September day, he decided he wanted payback.

Munchkin looked out the window of his lair at the top of Eastman and he saw happiness. He saw joy. He hated it. He was like the Grinch taking everyone’s presents away on Christmas Eve.

And then, the dots were gone.

They were a source of joy for us all. I mean, what’s life without dots? How do I live? How do I continue? How do I know when my sentence is over? We knew we had to fight back.

We mobilized. Rounded up everyone we knew. Most were pretty eager to join the fight. The SOFA students were the only ones that were a little hesitant — I don’t think I’d seen them leave their caves since the eclipse — but we promised them new art supplies and they came out mouths frothing. That might be more from the asbestos, though.

We thought it would be an easy victory ... but the war just kept dragging on and on. CAST and CIAS fell practically immediately, as they were turned to the dark side. We fought so many hard battles, but it seemed pretty bleak, man. To make it all that much worse, every loss was met with a new “motivational” poster. The Battle of the Campus Center ... the Battle of Res A ... and most tragically, the Battle of Salsa’s. Every time one of those damned posters went up, dude, like Munchkin was hoisting his flag.

It’s tough to get close to Munchkin, too. I don’t know why, man, but there’s always a bunch of bees wherever he goes. It’s fuckin’ weird ...

Supplies started running thin sometime around December. Saw one dude resort to eating at Gracie’s ... it wasn’t a pretty sight.

We found a pack of Gennys once ... turned out to be a trap set by Munchkin. Bees everywhere. Lost some damn good bros that day ...

I mean, what’s life without dots? How do I live? How do I continue? How do I know when my sentence is over?

Things are starting to take a turn, though. We were able to win a victory for the clubs and they kept their colors without falling to the orange and black menace.

We have found a few weaknesses in their line, too, so that’s good. Every time Munchkin is around, for example, we’ll start talking to him and socializing and he’ll usually just hiss at us and run away. It’s how we won the Battle of the Fountain Suds.

We’re just running low on soldiers. So many have deserted, so many were lost ... and so many more got too distracted by the MAGIC building. Their eyes just kinda glazed over and they haven’t left that damned building since it opened. It was a smart move on Munchkin's part — I’ll give him that. 

There’s still hope, though, dude. This new group of freshmen soldiers coming in in a few months should help reinforce our army. And I’m ready. My vape is charged, my beer stash is chuggable and my dot stickers are extra sticky. Munchkin doesn’t stand a chance.

But we still need help. We still need more soldiers for our forces. We need you.

It’s time we end this senseless war once and for all and restore the dots to their rightful place where the world can see. Consider enlisting at your local recruitment station at Institute Hall, where the dots still shine true. 

This message was brought to you by Tigers for a Brighter Dot Future.