Flipping gracefully through the air in a shower of gold coins, Father Leahy soaked in the munificent goodness of his vast top secret money pool for the final time this Sunday. Navigating a series of diamond buoys, he hopped from treasure to treasure with the bright determination of a kleptomaniacal dolphin.
“It sure will be a shame to lose my billions in bullion,” thought the crafty old priest, backstroking through the lost gold of the Spanish Armada. “But a new football stadium won’t build itself, and the Irish Mob already turned down my loan request.”
Emerging from the glittering ocean, Leahy sighed and grabbed the silken towel handed to him by his Ultra-butler — a colossal serving organism composed of hundreds of tiny, ordinary butlers. Shaking a few priceless artifacts out of his hair, he strolled to the entrance of the EagleVault and entered the 600-digit code required to access its unfathomable riches.
“We have so much to be thankful for on this glorious campus,” spoke the great Jesuit at his official announcement. “But as the lord says: ‘He who is rich, let him spend his wealth to stimulate the local economy; and he shall be forever blessed in my sight.’ Obvious sexism aside, this passage provides great wisdom for us today. It is why I shall be converting BC’s excess funds into a Football temple that shall make Tom Brady himself shrivel up in impotent jealous rage!”
The students cheered loud, and proceeded to make merry by organizing a celebratory orgy right there on Stokes lawn. But as father Leahy looked off into the distance, he saw the rows of armored trucks ready to steal away his greatest treasure- unbelievable piles of money. A single tear rolled down his anointed cheek, as he realized that nobody would ever know what he had sacrificed to offer such a gift to the world. And even if they did, how could anyone who hadn’t simmered in a gold-and-opal Jacuzzi possibly understand?