25April 30, 2009 HUMOR WhitmAn College PiOneeR

Scavenger hunt marred by unfortunate wording

The first annual Whitman College Scaven-ger Hunt also became the last annual Whitman College Scavenger Hunt last Saturday, when the wacky hilarity was brought to a sudden and violent halt at the discovery of a several-month-old cadaver. The location where the body was discovered or the supposed cause of death have yet to be released.

“I mean, I never guessed that when the list said we needed to find ‘someone late’ it would mean this,” said a horrified participant who wished to remain anonymous. Organizers of the event fer-vently maintain that they intended teams to search for a person who was late in the temporal sense, such as a student who had overslept and missed the beginning of an IM frisbee game.

Authorities, however, are taking this dark turn

of events much more seriously.“We haven’t ruled out the possibility that there

might be four more bodies somewhere on campus [five teams total participated in the scavenger hunt - ed.],” said an officer of the Walla Walla Police Department. To this end, divers trolled the bottom of Lakum Duckum yesterday, although no evi-dence has yet turned up to suggest the presence of additional corpses.

For their part, students involved in the hunt are simply trying to forget it. “I feel like somebody made me live out ‘The Most Dangerous Game,’” said one particularly well-read student. “I’m no General Zaroff! I’m not!”

Passersby wished to point out that this is totally not like that story at all.

26 27WhitmAn College PiOneeR HUMOR April 30, 2009

Wow, that last page was pretty dark, wasn’t it?Here, this one has much less to do with death. - editors

Night fell on Zuckerman’s farm. In the barn, all was quiet, save for the muffled, comforting sounds of sleeping livestock: the sighing of the cows in their manger, the faint squeaking of Templeton the rat as he snored in the feed trough. In a corner of his pen, Wilbur shifted slightly, blinking up at the stars.

Why can’t I sleep? he thought, puzzled. By this time he should be a soft, dreaming pink mass, not a very awake, very confused young pig. He snorted, feeling uneasy.

“What’s wrong, Wilbur?” asked a silvery voice next to his ear.“Oh, hello, Charlotte,” said Wilbur, looking up at his friend. “I’m just feelingrestless, I guess.”“Just restless?” Charlotte prodded gently. “You look worried.”“Well…” Wilbur pawed at the dirt with his hoof. “I watched the news through the Zucker-

man’s kitchen window today.”“Ah.” Charlotte nodded wisely. “You heard about the swine flu, I suppose.”“Yes. And Charlotte, I had a terrible thought: what if I get it?”The spider laughed so hard she shook her web. “Oh, Wilbur! There have been no reported

cases in our state! Don’t worry, you won’t get the swine flu. That’s just media sensational-ism.”

“Oh, thank you, Charlotte!” Wilbur said in relief. “If you say so then I know I’ll be just fine.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Charlotte, repairing a small hole in her web. “Chin up!”“It would be so terrible if I were to catch it. I would have to stay away from all of my

friends. Fern wouldn’t be allowed to visit.” Wilbur’s ears drooped sadly at the thought.“That’s called, ‘quarantine,’” Charlotte volunteered.“Whatever it is, I’m glad I’m not it,” said Wilbur adamantly. “But now at least I shall be

able to sleep. Clever Charlotte!”“Good for you, Wilbur,” Charlotte said, settling in the center of her web. “Keep your mind

on positive things, and you will become positive as well. Be happy and everyone around you will—”

Wilbur suddenly let out a loud cough, followed by a pronounced sniffle. There was a slight pause.

“Don’t worry, Charlotte,” said Wilbur. “I’m not ‘quarantined!’”The two friends shared a good laugh under the moonlight.

AQuestionForCharlotteby E.B. Whitechanneled throughEvelyn Windsor

Dear Familee,

I am running away. Pleese do not to try to folow me. I made this desishun after a lot of thought and I am not going to change my mind.

But wait, you will sey, we were always so nice to you Holly! We gave you kibles and walks and tummy rubs! We are good owners! And to that I sey, yes you were. I will never have another familee as nice as you.

But the truth is I am feeling negleckted. Everyone loves President Obama’s puppy so much and I am also a presidenchal dog and no one talks about me! To sum up I am unapreshiated by the campus even though you love me. So I am going to go leave. Maybe I will go live with Bo and then I will be in pikshures and the campus will sey, oh! That dog belongs to our campus! She is our presidenchal dog! We should never have taken her for granted! And I will agree.

I will miss you. I still love you very much.

Holly

An Open Letter from Holly Bridges (dog) - discovered at the Bridges’ residence

Thank You Students!!by George Bridges (president)Wow, students! Thank you so much for your help with finding Holly and getting her safely home. I know that all of you are extremely skilled when it comes to

dealing with Whitman’s demanding academic rigors, but who would have known you all are super sleuths as well! We just may have to change Sher-wood’s name to Sherlock once they’re done renovating it!

In all seriousness though, it means an enormous amount to me and my family that Holly has made it home safely. Boy, isn’t she a firecracker! I never would have guessed that those hours spent teaching her to read and write were actually working.

In conclusion, follow your hearts. And don’t be surprised if you see Holly auditing one of your Politics classes sometime soon! Don’t think I haven’t noticed these presidential aspirations of hers. Guess I better watch my own back!

George