We’re losing the battle for UCI.
To the rabbits, I mean.
As you probably know, there is a significant population of rabbits at this university, in the same sense that there is a significant population of water in the Atlantic.
One cannot roam the campus nowadays without tripping over oodles of zippy little bunnies shagging in the park, darting under bungalows or lugging tiny backpacks around to blend in.
At first glance, the situation seems benign. It is easy to accept the rabbits as unthreatening when there are pressing issues to consider, such as what price to charge them at affirmative action bake sales.
You may contend that the rabbits are cute and harmless. You may be an imbecile.
The truth is that the rabbits have revealed themselves to be a growing criminal threat at UCI.
As a determined journalist, I knew that to fully uncover this story and maintain my credibility, I would need to conduct a relevant interview with the UCI Police Department.
So credibility was out.
Instead, I asked fourth-year political science and sociology major Jonathan Frey which species, in his understanding, has been responsible for the most campus bicycle thefts over the past year.
‘Humans,’ Frey said.
He must have been being sarcastic, because it is obvious that the rabbit problem is escalating in unsettling ways.
Quite recently I saw a mischievous duo of rabbits rush out into the path of a girl riding her bicycle swiftly on Ring Road. A quick swerve saved her, but if she had left class just seconds earlier that day, she and the rabbits would have collided in a spectacular explosion, blasting bicycle and rabbit parts into low orbit.
‘But those were just the rebellious delinquent teenage rabbits,’ you might say.
The adult rabbits strike surgically.
For example, I would not consider it unrealistic today for bunny mercenaries to ambush Chancellor Cicerone and leave him dangling from the flagpole with carrots protruding from his designated non-vegetable orifices.
Of course, that has happened only twice since 2001, so it is probably a bit far-fetched to consider another attack so soon. But the point is that it could happen again, and we as a student body would do well to raise awareness.
So take note.
To defeat the rabbits, we must first understand their origin.
According to a reliable source (the Internet), the land on which our campus rests was once a Mexican ‘rancho,’ or ranch. This is common knowledge; however, you may not have known that the land was actually an impossibly large flat rabbit.
Understandably, the rancheros kept this defect of the land under wraps when selling the ranch to James Irvine in the 19th century.
‘This land is definitely not actually an impossibly large flat rabbit,’ the rancheros said, possibly in Spanish.
Irvine bought their lie.
As a consequence of the truth, every crop planted, including zucchini, sprouted into thousands of litters of jittery bunnies.
Irvine suffered a fatal heart attack from the shock, so James Irvine Jr. (no relation) assumed control of the ranch and incorporated it into the James Company. Or maybe it was the Irvine Company.
Either way, in 1959, the University of California purchased approximately 2.5 billion krillion acres of the land on which to build this campus. It was to no avail that the Irvine Company tried to warn the University about the rabbits.
The conversation went like this:
‘We should tell you, this land is actually an impossibly large-‘
‘Large? We’ll take it.’
Thus UCI was doomed to its furry, jittery fate. But what can we do now to alleviate the situation?
First, I recommend that we all try to avoid the ‘rabbit danger zones’ on campus, which include but are not limited to: Arroyo Vista, Aldrich Park, Ring Road, buildings, east campus, west campus and campus in general.
I found myself easily following this tactic for much of my sophomore year.
Another course of action could be to hold the rabbits to the same rigorous university admissions standards to which the rest of us are subject.
I don’t know about you, but I doubt the average rabbit could score respectably on the SAT, at least without genetic modifications