'U' Triumphs over GEO in bloody struggle

by Seymour Butz
Delay Staff Reporter

The long-awaited contract agreement between the Graduate Employees Organization and the University, which was solidified recently in the face of a GEO strike, abruptly ended yesterday in a Stalinist reign of terror on the steps of the Rackham building.

A huge, unruly crowd had gathered on the steps of Rackham, shouting, “Hell, no, we won’t go! Hell, no, we won't go!“ as police tried unsucessfully to break up the mob.

Suddenly a bearded Graduate Student Instructor shouted out in terror, “They're taking out their guns!!!“ The next few seconds felt like an eternity, the chaos seemingly proceeding in slow motion. The entire membership of GEO pierced the air in one collective blood-curdling scream.

It was the worst sound LSA sophomore Wink Kepple has ever heard. “It was really scary,” said Kepple. “I almost had an accident in my new chinos.”

Then, DPS and AAPD, working with a feeling of togetherness not seen since the infamous party-busts of late ‘98, started firing their automatic weapons into the crowd. GSIs of all backgrounds dove to the ground, trying to avoid the sharp pieces of metal speeding towards them at hundreds of miles per hour. The “k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k” of the machine guns soon managed to silence all of the screams.

Soon, not a single GSI was left standing. The administration got their wish — the GSIs were dead. Without GSIs, there could be no GEO.

Gan Damble, head negotiator for the University, ran to the front of the steps with the giddiness of a young schoolgirl. Licking his lips, he walked up the steps and perused the carcasses of the former GSIs. He nodded his head in recognition as he saw some of the former GEO-negotiators laying face-down in a pool of their own blood.

Damble bent over and lifted up the face of his nemesis, GEO Negotiator Eric Funky-Odor. Funky-Odor was still alive, but just barely. In his whiny voice, Damble whispered into Funky-Odor’s ear, “Never go against the family. You wanted more money? These bullets you got in you are worth over twelve bucks. Mighty generous compensation, I’d say.” With a swift kick to the head, Funky-Odor was no more. “Keep the change, you filthy animal.”

Damble slowly turned and walked back down the steps, staring at the waiting crowd of thousands of faculty members. The administrators looked as though they were awaiting Moses’ return from Mount Sinai. They looked upon Damble with wonder and awe, for he was the man most responsible for the Administration’s tremendous victory. He reached the bottom of the steps, and a slight breeze blew his hair up out of his face. With a newfound air of confidence, he looked upon his people and said, “Well... it looks like they have accepted our counterproposals!”

A huge cheer erupted from the crowd. University President Bee Lollinger walked over to Damble, extended his hand, and said, “Let me be the first to congratulate you... and to thank you.” A group of twenty or so administrators went to Gamble and lifted him up, carrying him through the thousands of swarming groupies, while “We Are the Champions” sounded from the bell tower.

Lollinger explained his reasons behind the siege. “I know we signed a contract with those, those, creatures,” he said. “Or at least I think we did; I don’t do any actual work around here, I just meet with radical activist groups and get all my administrative information from the University Record.

“In any case, I just didn't like Funky-Odor. He was really annoying, and he was always talking to the media and making me look bad. Plus, who could stand his constant ‘We GSIs need enough money to pay the rent and buy food’ whining?
“So I just told my boys at DPS to put the smack down on GEO’s ass, contract or not. President Lollinger don't take no [expletive] from no one.”

Kepple is excited about the death of his GSIs. “GEO was just a bloated cadaver of inefficiency, anyway. They deserved to die.”

There was another reason behind his elation. “I had a history paper due the next morning,” he said. “Now I can spend the day gambling and whoring in Windsor! It's all legal over there!”

This article was published in the 1 April 1999 edition of the Michigan Delay.