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It’s 2 a.m., Why is the University VP for Administrative Services in Your Bedroom?


Oh no, we’re at it again. As you lay in the bedroom of your shitty, off-campus house dreading your 9:10 class, you realize that you’re not falling asleep any time soon. The lights are off, you’re thinking things about you-know-who in your IAH class that are far too sexually explicit for even The Black Sheep to post, when, suddenly, it feels like you’re being watched. You roll over, and jump up in an unhealthy mix of shock and fear as you see this man peeking up from under your bed.




“Psst! It’s me,” he whispers to you with a giggle. “Satish Udpa! I’m the Vice President for Administrative Services at MSU, but obviously you knew that.”


Your jaw stays agape in disbelief as you begin to assess the situation. Satish is dressed for business, his pants perfectly pressed. He gives you that classic, Satish smile as he waits for you to make the next move.


Minutes pass, and the silence gets more and more awkward. Satish takes a seat, and continues giving you his smug little grin, demonstrating the patience necessary to land you a job in University Upper Administration where nobody really knows what you do.


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Satish finally breaks the silence, “I think you know why I’m here.” Your heart starts beating fast; you know that having an engineer-turned-bossman in your bedroom in the wee hours of the morning is never a good thing. You rack your brain, trying to remember exactly what went down at PT’s last night, but it’s still a little hazy. You begin to panic, doing everything you can to think of a possible explanation as to what the hell is going on:


You’re Dreaming:

An obvious first thought, a dream is the only rational explanation for having an old Indian man in a suit in your bedroom smiling at you patiently. As far as dreams go, this one is pretty weird, but so was the one about being chased around campus by a Sparty holding a giant, black dildo.


“This is going to be hard for you to believe, my friend, but none of this is real,” Satish suddenly says, raising his eyebrows and bringing his fingers to his chin. “Just kidding, it’s real. Gotcha.” He gives you a playful punch on the arm. “By the way, dreaming about a mascot holding a massive, penetrating sex toy is not good, probably.”




He kindly smiles at you again. “But no, this isn’t a dream.” To prove it to you, he pokes you in the stomach, making the “woo-hoo” sound that the Pillsbury Doughboy makes when he gets poked.


You Experimented with some Crazy New Drug at the Bar:

Well, the Vice President for Administrative Services isn’t only in your bedroom, but he’s also poking your stomach and reading your mind. You know you’re not dreaming, because that poke definitely tickled a little. But the only other time you had a late-night run-in with an imaginary school administrator, you were on ‘shrooms, so a hallucinogenic drug would make sense here.


“Guess again!” Satish exclaims, holding up a vial of yellowish liquid. “You’ve got some of the cleanest piss I’ve ever seen! And I’ve seen some clean urine, let me tell you.” He shakes his head, reminiscing about all the clean, drug-free pee that he has experienced in his past. “I was on TV once, look!” he exclaims, brilliantly changing the subject and holding up his phone next to his face to show you a video of his face.



“You’ve been under for too long, my friend, you really need to wake up now!” Satish declares. You concentrate with all of your might, attempting to push yourself back into the real world. Mocking your distress, Satish rolls his eyes. “Oh my God, are you for real kid? Twice in a row! This is as real as it gets!”


Shit’s Fucked:

As you continue thinking, you’re left with only one conclusion: the world is just falling apart. Trump said “pussy” while campaigning this week, your top prospect as a Valentine’s date is a Cottage Inn pizza (which you’re not above doing American Pie-esque solo sex stuff with), and now, some university administrator is literally in your bedroom smiling at you, holding a vial of your own urine and keeping you on the fence as to whether or not this is reality. The stress has finally gotten to you.


“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” Satish yells, jumping up and doing a little dance. “I thought life was good too, but then I went on the “Michigan State University Class of 2018” Facebook page, and it was pretty much a bunch of people posting Asian porn videos, so…” He pauses, still smiling. “So, shit!” he giggles. He runs out of your house into the night, cackling like the madman all professors eventually end up becoming.





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