As the Whitman campus practically shut down and classes moved online in light of the global pandemic’s worsening situation, the administration has repeatedly urged students to pack up and go home. But what first started out as strongly worded emails has now escalated to a full-scale attack on stubborn students who have chosen to stay in Walla Walla. 

In President Kathy Murray’s most recent newsletter, she forebodingly signed off with, “If you choose to stay on campus, we will not support you to the best of our ability. Consequences will be dire.”

Particularly vulnerable to these assaults are junior and senior residents with off-campus rentals, who have begun experiencing strange disturbances on their properties. Whitman initially promised squatters the return of their April and May rent if they agreed to leave campus, but as of late the college has resorted to increasingly brutal tactics to flush them out. 

Ryan Norden, a resident of a Whitman owned house nicknamed “The Toilet Bowl,” noticed some disturbing activity in his backyard Monday night. 

“I looked outside my window and saw three black-robed figures holding torches. They kept chanting, ‘If you have reliable Internet service at home and a safe place away from campus, leave immediately…or else.’” 

The most extreme case of reported administrative pressure came last Tuesday, when senior and resident of 711 Penrose Ave., Jeremy Stratton, was kidnapped by the Department of Off-Campus Housing. He was returned in one piece after 48 hours of intimidation and low-grade torture, but Stratton is deeply shaken and has arranged to leave campus as a result. 

“I was walking down Isaacs, and the next thing I knew a black SUV stopped right next to me and a couple of guys in ski masks pulled me into the backseat. They put a bag over my head and…took me to a Jewett study room. They kept me there for two days with the lights on, with no food or water and played a constant loop of “our business here is to learn,” said Stratton, visibly shuddering. 

Stratton’s two housemates, John Foutch and Eliza Stein, said that soon after they noticed his absence, a brick was thrown through their window with a cryptic note attached, reading:

Fearing for their housemate’s life, Foutch and Stein reluctantly turned their keys over, and agreed to leave once Stratton was safely returned. 

“It’s scary enough that there’s a pandemic happening, but having nightmares about Kathy Murray waterboarding me really pushed me over the edge. I guess I really am safer at home,” finished Stratton. 

Editor’s Note: This is a satirical article, published in the humor section of The Wire. All events described in the article are purely fictional.