In the ethereal dreamscape of Whitman’s Hall of Five Minutes of Fame, where the echoes of past glories resonate through the hallowed corridors, a fallen campus celebrity wanders alone. His name forgotten to the winds of time and new trends, Dexter “The Dazzler” McGinty, once the undisputed champion of college trivia nights, roams in a melancholic daze, now a shadow of his former self.
As Dexter meanders through the Hall, he gazes upon artifacts and pictures celebrating the college’s legends: the KWCW DJ that brought Mitski to Reid, the ultimate frisbee star who defied gravity and expectations, the math prodigy who solved equations faster than a calculator on steroids and the box that Justin stood in (unfortunately the Hall could not claim a real life clone of him). Each relic was a testament to their enduring legacy.
But where is Dexter’s tribute? He recalls the days when his encyclopedic knowledge of obscure facts made him the hero of every trivia night, beating the likes of former champion Kathy ‘Your Business Here Is To Learn’ Murray and Chef Jon. He was the master of the microphone, the titan of trivia. His Tinder bio reflected his accolades, ‘Campus Celebrity’ emblazoned right above the ‘Yes’ icon for marijuana. He was the one who knew the capital of Kyrgyzstan and the scientific name for the fear of long words (ironically, it’s hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia).
Now he walks past an empty space on the wall, the spot where his picture should have been. A single tear rolls down his cheek as he realizes that his downfall was not due to a lack of knowledge, but a lack of humility. He had become overconfident and arrogant. One fateful night, he was dethroned by a first-year who correctly identified the mating call of the lesser spotted tree frog, something he should’ve seen coming; it was an OP kid from Portland, after all.
As he nears the end, walking past a taxidermy duck (RIP) and a dumbbell that forever changed BFFC lore, Dexter pauses to try to come to terms with his fate, forever banished to a dingy house off Rose Street and remembered only by his iCloud backup. His tale remains one of caution, a reminder that even the brightest stars can fall from grace and end up as an archive of times forgotten on the OurWhitman Instagram.
