Hundreds of MSU students, upperclassmen and freshmen alike, were surprised when they returned this fall to find Langford and Hapner Halls completely replaced by gigantic piles of decaying fruits and vegetables.
These putrefied foods stand where, since 1960, young men and women have formed countless communities in the gender-specific, discreet housing that was popular amongst incoming freshmen looking for a comfortable first year.
Now, after considerable construction during summer break, those dorms are gone forever, replaced by mound after stinking mound of organic debris meant to revamp the brickwork that blended in perfectly with the rest of campus’ architectural scheme and that nobody really had a problem with in the first place.
“When freshmen pulled up to their new homes and were greeted with the word ‘Hapner’ constructed from a two-foot-high facade of slowly liquifying celery, I assure you their smiles were wider than ever,” Associate Representative for the Whole University Jeff Humpdinger said, referring to the prominent lettering that rests on top of the new dorms. “It’s a charming touch of on-the-nose decoration that doesn’t match the rest of campus’ visual identity and that none of the other dorms even have a version of at all.”
“We didn’t even try to make the spoiled food match the color palette of the rest of the buildings,” Humpdinger continued, referring to the glistening green mold covering much of the structure, “because we knew students would love such a broad change made to their living environment without any real input.”
Students in all dorms seem to agree with Humpdinger.
“I can’t think of a better way the millions of dollars spent on replacing two perfectly serviceable dorms with gargantuan mountains of sun-blackened sludge could have been used,” remarked freshman Abby Schwartz, who is currently living in a Hannon lounge with twelve other students due to record enrollment at MSU.
Schwartz stated that she “just can’t wait” for a planned 70-bed dormitory meant to accommodate the additional influx of students over the next few years. The multi-million-dollar project promises lavish suite-style rooms built of stale bread trucked in from Wheat Montana facilities. “The only thing better than sleeping in a cramped room with twelve strangers is sleeping in a cramped room with twelve strangers while being attacked by hungry birds,” Schwartz said.
Humpdinger promised that more renovations are to come. He estimated the new dorms will last two to four weeks before more renovations are necessary, because “if you look closely, it turns out that it is all fruit. We have replaced these buildings with fruit.”