Cambridge, MA--- In Harvard’s biggest scandal since the editor of Simplicissimus referred to the Slavic Studies Department as “treacherous, communistic untermenschen,” a traumatized horde of freshmen, predominantly composed of skinny white guys wearing ironic t-shirts, was seen wandering around Harvard Square Sunday morning, shaking their heads and occasionally moaning, “Oh God, I thought only cows had udders,” after each of them had accidentally attempted to join the staff of The Harvard Lamb Poon, a student-run production company that has brought comfort to thousands of lonely rams and yokels over the past century.
“I got in there and the room was completely empty, just a few photos of sheep’s asses on the wall,” said a visibly shaken Aaron Greenberg ’18, a Pennypacker resident whose high school friends occasionally laugh at his jokes. “And I thought to myself, ‘Okay, this is kinda weird, but it’s an absurdist magazine, right?’ Like, I assumed they’d all jump out and make fun of us or something, and then give us guidelines for the comping process, but we were terribly wrong.” Greenberg then reported that a man who was “dressed somewhere between a Honey Boo Boo extra and Hugh Hefner” walked into the room and started playing a video of sheep copulating in a variety of positions, occasionally featuring subtitles for particular baas that referred to ‘checking the pan-pipes’ or ‘ordering a pizza with a little extra gyro,’ before switching to The Ovine Centipede (First Fleecequence) and then wrapping up with the live-action remake of Lamb Chop is Love, Lamb Chop is Life.
The confusion, caused by the two organizations printing out fliers at the same time at the same Lamont printer, has disturbed many, including Angus the Sheep ’17, a Currier House resident who is concentrating in baaology with a secondary field in New Zealand studies, and who has dreamed of working for the Lamb Poon ever since he saw Harold Ram’s 1978 classic, National Lamb Poon’s Animal Hoes.
“I was so excited to pitch them my screenplay for Back-Fence Ewes 10, and when I got in there and saw a guy in overalls, on his knees and panting, I assumed I’d come to the right place,” Angus mournfully recounted. “I waited, but nothing happened. Another guy occasionally poked him with a stick, and once in a while someone tried to light something on fire, but that was it. No rams with footlong horns hoofing two half-Dorsets, no hot ewe-on-ewe action, not even the shepherd position or a bleatjob.”
In other news, the college’s depressed-Bridgestone-enthusiasts’ doo-wop group, the Sad Tire Five, announced that it had received a record number of audition requests.
Image Credit: Sogning
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