Our latest in a series of hard-hitting investigative journalistic “scoops” here at The Black Sheep, we set out to see how well our beloved university equips its denizens for survival in the big bad world. This first installment follows our former university president, Father Dennis Holtschneider after he left DePaul’s warm folds of mediocrity and took a much-deserved trip to sunny Las Vegas.
To hear him tell it, Father Holtschneider is doing “just fine” after his release from DePaul for allowing a controversial white nationalist to speak on campus. “I’m actually in a really good place right now,” he says, interrupting his story to do a line of coke off a coffee table. “Things are looking up. I’ve got a comfortable job in the city and a place to sleep. Plus, some nice gentlemen down by the docks loaned me the money for this sweet trip to Las Vegas. Oh yes, things are looking up for old Daddy Holt.”
Sadly, Father Holtschneider’s bleary eyes and slumped shoulders tell a different story: a story of hangovers and midnight bus rides, of gambling addiction and disillusionment. The seedy Vegas motel room he was sharing with a group of scarred Armenian men didn’t do him any favors either. It was clear to our reporter that the world is a dangerous place for an innocent, vulnerable 40-year-old priest, on his own for the first time.
We reached out to God, Father Holtschneider’s former employer at DePaul, to see if He had anything to say about Holtschneider predicament. “Dude,” said God. “It sure sucks to be Daddy Holt right now. But, I mean, he tried to help DePaul’s fascists spread their white nationalist message and then let the student protests get way out of hand. I had no choice but to let him go. These things happen. At least he’s found a new gig, and I sometimes send a little extra cash his way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta get back to ignoring some of those thoughts and prayers.”
Sure enough, Father Holtschneider has found new work in Vegas. Putting his strong jaw and silver fox looks to good use, Holt has been performing marriages as a stripper priest for drunk Vegas couples. Apparently, he’s skilled enough to be in high demand but unfortunately cycles most his money back into coke-fueled gambling benders. Oh, how the mighty fall.
When asked how long he expects to stay in Vegas, the former president seemed unsure. “Well, I’ve definitely got to make back the money I’ve lost or those guys back home are NOT going to be happy,” he said, using his foot to stuff a pair of dead prostitutes into the trunk of his car, while his Armenian roommates looked on. “And I’ve got this situation to deal with now. But as long as I’ve got an ass that won’t quit and newlyweds to officiate, I’m gonna be okay.”
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