Extra, extra! Read all about it! Oh, hello there. Read what, you ask? I decided that UTD didn’t have enough newspapers on campus, so I threw my newsie cap into the ring and made one myself! All I needed before I got started was stories. Now, I would normally chase down the scoop myself, but unfortunately I lost the physical scoop I use for the news in my divorce with ex-wife #8,394,432, so I had to ask my ratfans to bring the scoops to me. Let’s see what you guys thought everyone should know about!
Climate change is bad and we need to combat it
Mmm, I don’t think so. There’s nothing the ladies love more than a ripped rodent riding the waves — that and sham marriages, at least from my experience. Our campus’ lack of totally tubular tides is probably what’s responsible for UTD’s burgeoning incel population. The easiest way to fix this problem is to throw as many used car batteries into the ocean as we can, thus melting all the icebergs and finally bringing beach babes (and bros) to the MIT of the south. It worked for me back in Atlantis, so surely it’ll work here.
A guy is training UTD’s squirrels to overthrow the student body
I’m shaking in my rat-sized boots, personally. Those squirrels are a savage bunch, and direction was the only thing they needed before tearing every Comet limb from limb — financially speaking, that is. This man is teaching squirrels the basics of pump-and-dump schemes, and how to convince people to engage with predatory binary options trading. Actually, this is on the down-low, but I’ve heard whispers about how the squirrels are going to naked short sell university bonds, dooming everyone who goes here. Personally, I would recommend gathering everyone you love and moving ASAP. Me and my ██████ ex-wives certainly will.
Not enough people wash their hands after using the restrooms
As a rat with a plethora of experience with the ladies, I would recommend against handwashing. Anytime a date smells the aroma wafting from my paws, they always ask, “Eww, are you from the sewers or something?” The answer is yes. Yes, I am. Then five minutes later we have a marriage ceremony officiated over Omegle. If your potential huzzlet absolutely requires handwashing, then you can kill two birds with one stone and use your business to take care of business. The ladies love it when you stay economic.
Tall butch women
I could be your tall (6-inch) butch (desperately looking for a wife) woman (rat).
The Vega Hall rat, Bastard, is missing
First things first, I swear I’m not Bastard’s father. I would never procreate outside the divine light of holy matrimony. Second, this isn’t a conspiracy anymore. They’re coming for us. I knew I should have left campus when I had the chance. It’s too late for me now — but I can still warn my on-again, off-again toxic situationship! Run, Ratalina! Run!! RUNNNNN!!!
