The Shipwrecked Issue

The Plumber’s

The Shipwrecked Issue

VOLUME XXXIV ISSUE VIII April 9th, 2018

Faucet

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The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

CONTRIBUTERS Editor-In-Chief

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

Otman Benchekroun

Writers

Daniel Galef Hugo Schutzberg Freedom Sorbara Paul Orasanu Bahar Pasalar Sam Miller Meredith Charney Gretel Kahn Alex Dombowsky Harry Skinner

Illustrators

Asma Abdullah Stavroula Pabst Ismail Benchekroun Nick Brunt Sarah Lefebvre Lorenzo Carrara Bailey Hull Chetan Ashta Sayeef Mohammed Thomas Barrett Reem Madkour

Ismail Benchekroun Freedom Sorbara Ké Smith (Cover) Tess Van Donkelaar Claire Edrington Amelia Lindsay Kaufman Kiana Brett

Disclaimer

The Plumber’s Faucet is a Publication of the Engineering Undergraduate Society of McGill University. The opinions expressed in the Faucet are not necessarily those of the EUS nor of any other university body, unless such opinion appears over an authorized signature of a representative of the said body. The Faucet does not print works which are sexist, libelous, racist, homophobic, or violating the copyright laws of Canada. It should be noted that some content is meant to be satirical or humourous in nature.

For general enquiries, contact faucet@mcgilleus.ca.

Complaints

The EUS takes complaints very seriously. All complaints should begin with the heading “Official Protest to Content in The Plumber’s Faucet”, and should be sent to vpcomm@mcgilleus.ca, publications.director@mcgilleus.ca, and faucet@mcgilleus.ca.

The Plumber’s Faucet vol. XXXIV no. VIII

Monday, April 9th, 2018

This is it. The last of our issues for this school year. We hope we’ve helped you be unproductive in your work, and that we’ve furthened your ambitions of procrastination during particularly difficult times. For graduating students, we trust that this issue can provide you with a nice final farewell to the robust humour magazine scene of McGill. For freshmen at the end of their first years: good job. It can be tough and you’ve made it far. I hope you haven’t lost your sense of humour, because that’s the worse thing you can lose out here in this environment. Next year, we promise to double our efforts of silly jokemaking and toilet-entertainment.

Alas, it is finals season now, so enough with this heartfelt crap and let’s get to the comedy, so here goes.

OH NO! There’s been a terrible accident. The Plumber’s Faucet is SHIPWRECKED! That’s right, all our wonderful writers and illustrators have been marooned on a desert island! What do we eat? How will we deal with the loneliness? What grading scheme will our professor use for our final mark if we miss our finals? Our writers have had to deal with these tough, harrowing questions, and much much more in MARONNED: A Faucet Shipwrecked Story!

Have a great finals’ season, and an even greater summer. I’ll see you next year, I hope.

Otman Benchekroun

April 9th, 2018

Student Miraculously Rescued from Desert Island; Professor Transfers Midterm Weight to Final

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by Spalding the Ugly Step-Volleyball illustrated by Tess Van Donkelaar

Fourteen days ago, the world was shaken by the sinking of the cruise ship Booze Cruise in the South Pacific, a tragedy that claimed the lives of over 68 people in the 21st century’s worst maritime disaster (the 2011 film Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked notwithstanding). But today, with the improbable rescue of the 69th passenger, a grieving world has borne witness to a human triumph of the highest order.

Jean-Pierre-Luc Dubois, a student in mechanical engineering at McGill University currently taking MECH 420 Numerical Methods II, was feared dead along his fellow passengers after their vessel capsized in a storm two days after leaving port in Fiji.

Due to persistent bad weather, rescuers were only able to reach the Booze Cruise 24 hours after its initial mayday call – at which point the search for possible survivors was widely considered to be a forlorn hope. That sentiment had arisen after initial reports that the ship’s life rafts had been lost at sea the day before the sinking in the passengers’ failed attempt at “boat boat-races”.

Nonetheless, it has emerged that a single passenger – McGill’s own Jean-Pierre-Luc Dubois – not only managed to escape the capsized vessel, but, with the storm still raging, swim several miles to the nearest island. He then survived two weeks on that uninhabited and unnamed shoal, sustaining himself with a meager diet of coconuts, seabird eggs, and clams.

“It seemed pretty hopeless”, read Dubois in a prepared statement to the media this morning. “But luckily, I am an engineering student, so that wasn’t an unusual outlook for me.”

Salvation finally came for Dubois when a rescue plane mistook his smoke signaling for an SOS call. He later explained that he was actually just using this signal fire to order samosas. The plane, equipped with pontoons, landed to investigate the fire. The crew soon encountered the ravenous castaway, who became distraught on hearing the news of his 68 travelling companions, and that the plane was not carrying any samosas.

His safe return to scholastic life was fully secured only hours later, when his Numerical Methods II professor sent him an email congratulating him on his survival, and explaining the changes to the course’s grading scheme that would be necessary due to his continued existence. The professor explained that in light of missing the course’s second midterm, its 20% weight could assuredly be shifted to Dubois’ final – an exam to be now worth 80% of his final grade come April.

Now that Dubois is safe at home, and not required to write a make-up midterm for MECH 420, he says he looks back at his ordeal with a peculiar fondness and nostalgia.

Pausing briefly to compose himself, Dubois concluded his statement to the media with a bit of melancholic reflection.

“I only wish that this could have happened five months ago. Then I might have finally gotten a Fall Reading Break.”

Calculating your grade using the grading scheme like

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The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

The Plumber’s Faucet Mailbag

by Alex Dombowsky

Once again, we open up the Faucet mailbag! Now, as many of you know The Plumber’s Faucet does not have an address and therefore cannot accept mail. So, as always, we arm Alex Dombowsky with a blood-stained sledgehammer and send him to the Montreal suburbs to hunt down a mailman, grabbing his mailbag in the process. The Faucet legal team is making us assure everyone that Alex Dombowsky and The Plumber’s Faucet are in no way affiliated with the despicable criminal now known as the Mailman Murderer of Montreal.

Now that I’ve got all of that annoying legal stuff out of the way, it’s time to open up another month’s worth of mail! As usual, the mail never has anything to do with the Faucet, so sorry about that. And, to our haters out there who say that stealing mail is a federal crime, I say stop being such shills for the Canada Post. Lastly, we have to apologize to some writers since we cannot read the mail soaked in the mailma—I mean, someone’s blood.

Dearest Mother, It has been too long since I have seen you. Moving to South Korea just to live with my boyfriend Chet was the best choice I have ever made, but I still find myself missing home.

What I would give just to see Montreal covered in snow again, to walk outside as the winter sun sets and see the tranquil city dim into darkness. I made the mistake of taking it all for granted: the summer daytrips with Dad to Vermont, the sledding hill you took Celeste and me to, and the warm feeling you get when the wind is howling outside and you’re separated from it by the wall of a house, sipping from a mug of hot cocoa. I didn’t appreciate it when I was there, but is that not just the folly of youth? We always focus on the imperfections and annoyances and, before we know it, time has slipped away from us and we have few happy moments to reflect on.

The two of us did, however, do a recent tour of Eastern Europe, since that’s where Chet’s family originated. It was a great time and we saw so many beautiful sights, but sometimes I feel like we entertain ourselves with these travels just do distract us from our inadequacies.

We met the most amazing gentleman there in this strange gothic castle… but I do not have enough room in this letter to relay that tale.

Anyway, I just wanted to reiterate that I miss you. Hopefully, you can come to Seoul soon.

With love,

Ana Anderson.

Ana, This is kind of nice but it’s a little above the scope of a campus comedy publication, don’t you think? And, hold on a second, you took being cold for granted? That’s the dumbest thing we’ve heard here at the Faucet. Just go to an ice rink in Korea or something, geez! Korea is cool enough. And you said that you’re living with your boyfriend, which tells me that you’re getting laid. At that point, what do you need parents for? Bury your insecurities! Also, you live in South Korea and traveled to Eastern Europe? Is your MO that you want to scout out future craters or something?

Sorry, folks, but this letter is just a dud; there’s no other way to say it. Let’s hope the next one is good.

The Faucet Mailbag will resume further in the issue on page 11.

April 9th, 2018

You Had To Go To The Library Without Makeup! Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

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by Kat von d(istressed)

He’s dreamy. Perfect. The best. You have a crush on him. That’s correct, we are discussing the boy from your international relations class you have no *real* chance with, but you’ve somehow gotten his number and talked a couple times (he sent a smiley face once), so you technically have *sort of maybe* a chance with him. Anyways, today you are going to the library, but you aren’t wearing makeup! Oh no! Can you avoid him? Or will he see you without makeup, which means your chances with him are completely over? Let’s find out:

CHOICE ONE: You’ve arrived at McLennan. Will you stay on this floor or will you

go up?

B. Let’s go up to the 2-3rd floor. (Go to Page 7)

A. I’ll stay on this floor. (Go to Page 8) C. Let’s go to the 5-6th floors. (Go to Page 10)

An Open Letter To Café Campus

by Meredith Charney In the interest of transparency, I must admit that I am not a frequent patron of your fine establishment. That said, I visited Café Campus one Tuesday not long ago and I have a suggestion for a small change that could really improve the experience: you know that thing you do sometimes, in between shining dim lights on the crowd, where you flash all of the lights on for a fraction of a second? Don’t.

Why are you forcing people to look at their surroundings? Do you not know how viscerally unpleasant of an experience your establishment is for a person who can actually see it? How sticky the floor is? How sweaty and awful everyone looks? I can’t possibly imagine why you think that anyone’s Café Campus experience is improved by seeing Café Campus. Your customers do not want to witness their surroundings, nor do they want to see each other under direct lighting.

Trust me on this. Ignorance is bliss. Just let us dance in the dark and pretend we’re someplace nice that doesn’t smell like a gym sock. I do not want to see people – please don’t make me.

Thanks.

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The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

by Freedom SOrbara

April 9th, 2018

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Dating Corner: Desert Island Edition

by Sam Miller Lonely Hearts’ Column from Steve I am a man, looking for a woman, or a man, or a tree that looks a bit like a man, or a ball I could paint a face on and pretend it’s a human. My hobbies include going for walks around the island, sitting, and waiting for a rescue. I like books, and have read ‘Treasure Island’ 59 times since it washed up on the beach a few months ago. Unfortunately, the last few pages were pretty wet, so if anyone knows what happened, come and get marooned with me! Haha, seriously though somebody come help me I’m really lonely the island is really boring and I miss Netflix.

Steve MISSED CONNECTIONS From Brenda You were the ship I saw on the horizon 4 days ago. I was the woman that tried to swim out to you.

A little bit about myself: I am a strong independent woman who loves her space, and decided to go on a solo adventure cruise around the world last year.

Unfortunately, I did end up getting shipwrecked, but just like everything in life, I’m learning from it, and rolling with the punches. If you are interested in taking things further with an adventurous fun-loving woman, please send a message in a bottle to my island. I am unsure where it is. Probably the Pacific Ocean.

P.S. please rescue me I don’t want to eat any more coconuts and I’m tired of talking to trees and I am really lonely and bored and I miss Netflix.

Hope to hear from you soon - the woman on the island.

Brenda

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE Two: Oh snap it’s him, walking down the stairs!!! Game over, sorry about your

luck. There are plenty of fish in the sea though, right? Haha just kidding, have fun drowning your sorrows at Sephora.

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The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

Top 8 People To Eat On A Desert Island

by Paul Orasanu

8. Whoever got you stuck there in the first place “Even if they’re dead?”

“Especially if they’re dead”

6. Whomstever speaketh like this

Whomst the fucc dost they think they be conversating like such.

4. That guy right ahead of you in line who bought the last samosa about a month ago

You’re kidding yourself if you don’t think you’re harboring deep-rooted resentment for this guy; you watched as he chowed down piece by piece on that delicious indian savoury treat. Little does he know, the most savoury treat of all… is revenge.

7. Whoever ate someone else first

Technically, they have the nutritional value of two people. Wait until they’ve eaten multiple people for maximum value.

5. People who put pineapple on pizza

Islands may not have pizza, but they definitely have people with disgusting eating habits.

3. People who put pizza on pineapples Stop.

2. Guy Fieri

Welcome to Flavortown, population: ate.

1. The physical manifestation of the island’s spirits that present themselves to you after eating some weird-ass mushrooms oH m̷A͢N ͘t̵H ̵ ̜ r̸̘̪͞O͈̤ o̭͟ M͎ S̡͜ ̧̰͟ w̷̼̳ ̸ ̢̯̪́o̯ ̴͘͜҉͈A ̣ ̵e͈̮͉͝S͈̖E̴̩̱̺ s̛͈̼̱ H̶ ̭̮̪ ̖̼̘̬ ͝ H̻̘̺̕ ͠ ̷̴̧ ̴͎̥͟͜͡͠E̼̺ ̩̦̤̪ ̨ ̩͙͘͟L̡͇̫ ͠ ̮̲̳​̳ ҉​҉̧̖̗̮͇͡ ̬ ̜͕̬ͅ ͞ ́͘҉̣h ̭͍̠ ̣͔̞ ̻ ̮̟ ͙̥ ̣̝̺ ͍̫̘̻͇̺ ͔̙ ̰͓̪ ̖ ͖̬̻̘ ͖͔̘ ̦͎͓ ̭̬̺ ͖̲̮͚ ̘ ͉ ̦​̦̬ ͕̬̤ ̜̟ ̩̬͓̪ ̗͚̯ ̹ ͉̪ ͕̼ ̣̱̲̯͍ ̲̤ ̰̦͎ ̘ ͇

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE THREE: Okay, it doesn’t seem like he’s around so far. Wait! There’s a

boy with a North Face Jacket (he wears one of those too, because of course) and he has a similar haircut, but he’s looking in the opposite direction. What do you do?

A. Fight (Go to Page 11)

B. Bag (Go to Page 11)

C. Run (Go to Page 11)

D. Pokemon (Go to Page 11)

April 9th, 2018

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QUIZ: Choose a Shade That Is Not Quite Maroon and We’ll Tell You What Day You’ll Fall In Love

by Sarah Lefebvre You chose Red: You are sarcastically cynical. You see the world in extremes, in black and white, in primary colors ONLY. Maroon? Nice try.

You don’t believe love exists and therefore would never waste your time with such trivial pursuits. To your dismay, you will fall in love on Thursday.

You chose Merlot: You are a brooding romantic. You’ve already been in love thirty-two times. In fact, you once told someone you loved them the day you met. She didn’t love you back and you cried in front of your fancy fireplace while reading Catcher In The Rye. You tell yourself you’ll never fall in love again, but actually you will fall in love next week.

You chose Brick: You are pretty thick in the head. The girl you love has been in front of you this whole time and you just didn’t see it. Open your eyes!

You chose Garnet: You thought this was maroon, just like you thought Diane loved you. She took the kids and the VCR and booked it!

You’ll never fall in love again. On the first Tuesday of every month, you will stand atop a cliff and yell, “Diane!” No one will ever hear you.

You chose Scarlet: You are Scarlett Johansson. You will fall in love every Saturday night at approximately midnight when Colin Jost graces the silver screen.

You chose Mahogany: Your one true love is the sea. You’ve been tempted by sirens, but have always managed to remain steadfastly committed to the crashing waves against your withered skin.

You chose Blood: Get help

You chose Wine: You are Diane! Who needs love when you can fit a whole bottle of wine in a novelty glass that says “It’s wine o’clock somewhere” and season 4 of Say Yes To The Dress popped into the VCR? You live vicariously through these pre-baby-bod twentysomethings who get to have the wedding you never got! ...Did you hear something?

You chose Currant: You are pretentious as shit, they’re called raisins! You push everyone away with your insistence on using fancy-ass words in regular conversation. You publicly belittle anyone who refers to sparkling wine as champagne because it was not made in Champagne, France. No one will ever love you.

You chose Sangria: You will fall in love on Wednesday.

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The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE FIVE: Okay you’ve walked up to the fifth floor and the coast seems to

be clear so far. Which floor do you choose?

A. Fifth Floor (Go to Page 20)

B. Sixth Floor (Go to Page 21)

Why the McGill Sailing Team are all ghosts: A Shipwreck Story

by Udderman Bent-Spoon ‘Ave ya night scaled the Royal Mount An’ seen lights aflicker Heard groans of ghosts of sailors past ‘Pon the Lawrence river One foggy night the winds howled large Fear filled the frosh fully, But a swig and a puff fogged the night s’more Fear smother’d by glee For the Sailing Team was out hazin An ignor’d the omens Of mixin two hellbent Devils An’ the Locker o’ Davy Jones Aye a storm had brewed And the brews had been stormed, The bud fires lyt bright, The lyt buds unshor’d.

But the winds whipped too loudly And the caps whelped come whiny Leaks sprang, voices rang, The frosh afroth in briny Thus the sailing team sails evermore Pon Lawrence’s eternal g’lory Beware the mixed elixir of beer, bud and brine Else the waters make ye sorry.

April 9th, 2018

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The Plumber’s Faucet Mailbag

COntinued From PG. 4

Mrs. Anderson,

It’s Chet again. Ana is… not the same since our trip to Transylvania. When we left for Eastern Europe she seemed so full of life. When I came home from work she would always be waiting for me, then we would go to the park together and talk about our day as the streetlights came on.

Now, she rarely comes out during the day, if at all. She has fallen into some kind of malaise since our trip, so I have written a psychologist friend from the Netherlands to attend to her.

As I said: Transylvania. We were backpacking through the beautiful hills of Eastern Europe, making sure to take loads of pictures and try all the food we could afford on my shoestring budget.

Often times we would go off the trail, walking into the wilderness together. Ana said that I should try something that scares me every day, so I never refused one of these diversions.

It was on one of these excursions that we were greeted by a lightly trodden path leading into the nearby woods. We took it, of course, and it led us into a dark brown forest. The sun beat down on the pines but it could never shine through the foliage, trapping us in cold darkness. Ana seemed determined to reach the end of the path and I, fully in love with her, followed. When the trees thinned we saw that the path became a road. I told Ana that we should turn back, but she forced me to find where the road originated. Hours went by but, finally, we found its terminus.

We could see it from about a kilometer away. Surrounded by those brown trees and sticking out from the snowcapped mountains was a castle, made of brilliant black stones. It shot into the sky like water from a fountain and quickly got a strange grip on Ana. I now begged her to go back to our trail, even back to those woods, but she insisted on visiting the castle. It wasn’t until nightfall that we met its eldritch owner.

He only introduced himself as— Chet,

Okay, this is boring as hell. I’m not even going to dignify this boring letter by finishing it.

I just have to start out by making fun of this dude’s stupid name: Chet. Who even is named Chet anymore? Didn’t that name die out during the 1950s or something? Secondly, this dude’s letter is long as fuck. It is two pages long and handwritten, almost like a correspondence from the 19th century. Chet, buddy, I don’t know if you think it’s the 1950s or the 1850s, but I can tell you that it is definitely not the time of the epistolary anecdote. We need some detail, something funny to latch onto. Let me just see… Ah, we have another letter. Maybe this one will be exciting.

The Faucet Mailbag will resume further in the issue on page 19.

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE FOUR: Silly! This isn’t Pokemon, this is you avoiding your crush at the

library because you aren’t wearing makeup. This is serious business. What are you going to do?

A. Try to casually walk past (Go to Page 16)

B. Too risky, turn around (Go to Page 19)

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The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

Argument Brewing In Hometown Facebook Group

by Stav

Youngstown, Ohio: Tonight in Youngstown, Ohio’s Facebook Group, it looks like shit is about to go down. At 8:03 p.m., Youngstown local Jeffrey Stivers posted about Jeremy’s deli ham salad, saying it was “absolutely the best in town.” A few minutes later in the comment section, Stiver’s opinion came under attack by fellow Youngstowner Theresa Mary, 62, who commented in defense of Amy’s ham salad, available at Rulli Brothers. While Stivers has yet to respond (it has been eleven minutes since Mary’s comment), several other persons have posted in defense of either Jeremy’s Deli ham salad or Amy’s ham salad. Although it’s hard to say how this conversation will end up for sure, it looks like a nasty argument is likely to come within the next half hour.

Coffeevores, At The Edge Of Extinction

by Asma Abdullah

Scientists of the world are amazed at the discovery of a new endangered species mainly emerging from the stresses of our modern world. This species is scientifically known as the ‘Coffeevores’. Coffeevores are creatures that feed on coffee as the main element of their diet and the only source of energy.

Habitat

Coffeevores are known to become more visible in extreme stress environments, emerging between 12PM until 2AM. They surround themselves with notes and laptops, feeding on any coffee they find and chugging it mercilessly. They spread and thrive around campuses during exam periods, when they can undergo enormous levels of pressure, create a shelter out of the libraries, and scoure endlessly for cups of coffee, despite having just had some minutes ago.

Evolution

Coffeevores are descendants of Homo-Sapiens, whose environments are becoming more stressful by the daym on account of being constantly sleep deprived. To adapt, their digestive and neural systems have transformed and now depend only on caffeine. They are characterized by their distinct sense of smell, baggy red eyes, and high irritability.

A coffeevore, in its natural habitat, Schulich Library

While Coffeevores are a very modern and spreading species, coffeevores are also an endangered species, especially with the new education system that does not consist of final exams. Cancelling final exams will destroy the main habitat required for coffeevores to thrive, which might lead to their extinction.

Thankfully, Universities are taking action to conserve an environment where coffeevores are exposed to extreme stress by ensuring impossible exams, harsh grading, and endless deadlines.

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

April 9th, 2018

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE Twelve: You take the plunge, open the door and shove yourself in the

closet. Strangely enough, however, this isn’t a closet! You look around for a second until you find a hand on your shoulder. The hand spins you around until you’re facing a man in his late fifties. What’s this guy doing here?

“Hello, my name is Jeff, and this is college jail, where students caught talking on the 6th floor of Leacock get sent to. Unfortunately, you’re not supposed to know about college jail as a student, which means I’m going to have to keep you here.”

Sure, this sucks, but at least you didn’t run into your crush.

I Survived Being Sexiled

by Mr. Snee definition by OPRAH Sexile - Sex • ile verb / sˈeɡˌzīl, sˈekˌsīl/

1. To expel and bar one’s roommate from a physical location in order for one to have sex (bow chicka wow wow)

I promised I would be quiet and wouldn’t watch but my pleas were to no avail. I faced my impending doom by grabbing three items that would best accompany me on my plunge into solitude, my harmonica, a lemon for scurvy, and my pet parakeet. It was a cold night... not really actually, I mean the heat was still on outside of the room but maybe I was feeling the lack of empathy my roomate had for me. I couldn’t bare the thought of my home when I return. These next *insert reasonable amount of time for sex to occur* will be a test of my human spirit. I’ve slipped 10 messages under the door but I don’t think anyone can read them. Starting to get a bit dehydrated... oh wait never mind the sink is working. I surely must serve more purpose than to be kicked out of my own residence!

While I am no source of orgasm I feel I provide things like witty banter and an unrivaled perspective on this cruel, cruel world we live in, Is that not enough for me to stay in my own room! This period of sexile has changed me as an individual. Surely I must be able to come in. Let me just open the door...

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The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII Proclamation from the Imperial Publishing-Houses of H.I.R.H. Robert I & I (the palm hut near the beach):

Being a Complete and Thorough History, Census, and Scientific Assay of the Lands Known as Robertonia and Dominions, Including: a Quantitative and Qualitative Demographic Outline of Her Subjects, as Well as a Territorial Definition and Survey, and the Drafting of an Accurate Map of the Empire, and a Taxonomical Description of the Varied and Diverse Wildlife of the Region As Researched, Written, and Scratched on a Palm Frond with his Fingernails by: His Imperial and Royal Highness, Robert I & I, D. G. S. P. Q. R. the First and Foremost Emperor (per Orem) of Robertonia and Dominions, King and Protector of the Crown Territory of Little(r) Island, Protector of the Faith, &c. at the command of Ditto, The Same, The Above, and The Aforementioned

Part I: The Founding of the Empire of Robertonia (and Dominions), Its Heroes and Statesmen

The long and noble history of the Empire is known to stretch back at least as far as early 2018, when H.I.R.H. Emperor Robert I & I, who would later become the first king of the proud new land, discovered and conquered the territory that would be Robertonia from the little-traveled waters of [location to be determined, q.v. Geographical Assay, below]. At the time, his Majesty was known on the world stage simply as Robert, or sometimes Bobby, an oppressed subject of a foreign crown and a tyrannical freshman English teacher, yet to stumble upon true power.

Rome began with a wolf. The glory that is Britannia was born from a knife chucked out of a duck pond. Robertonia, as grand as it shines today, had at its start a spring break booze cruise and a faulty guardrail on the lido deck1.

1: And I swear to God if it turns out that Trevor pushed me, bro or not I’m never blacking out with him again.

April 9th, 2018

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Upon surveying his new dominion and establishing his divine right to rule by slaying a small newt that might poetically be thought of as a dragon terrorizing the local townspeople (it was at this time unknown that there were no local townspeople), this document was almost immediately drawn up by royal command to commemorate and record for posterity his mighty reign, before it is brought to a close by heatstroke or whatever strange tropical disease that newt probably had when I ate it.

Part II: Geographical Assay of the Empire, Establishing Her Borders and Features of Interest

The mainland of Robertonia is thought by its leading scientists to have emerged from the pristine ocean sometime between the dawn of time and early 2018, when the era of recorded history begins, and with it, the first evidence of habitation in the then-unnamed and -unknown continent. Awaiting the results of more comprehensive and precise measurements, the Empire is known to span at least five hundred Robertsfoots from the tip of Point Robert to Roberts Bay, and more than seven hundred across. The land is lush and plentiful, bearing many types of vegetation, some of which must be non-poisonous, as well as diverse animal life [q.v. Taxonomical Assay, below].

The highest point in the Kingdom is the peak of Mount Robert, which rises a full two Palmtreeheights above the canopy. Mount Robert is home to Castle Robert (after the tide destroyed the first Imperial Palace and Publishing House by the beach), and also a freshwater spring that forms the Robertonia River, which flows down into the sea at Roberts Bay.

Annexed in early 2018, Little(r) Island comprises the largest of the Imperial Offshore Territories, being perhaps fifty Robertsfoots around. Though a permanent colony is yet to be set up, the Imperial Chief Explorer swam out to the island and back and reported that, while lacking in vegetation and shelter, the island is home to vast, untapped natural resource stores of both guano and guano-birds, the latter of which taste much better than the little newt [q.v. Taxonomical Assay, below].

Little is known about what lies beyond the far side of Little(r) Island, but it is likely that Robertonia lies somewhere in the southern hemisphere, unless it’s in the northern one, possibly between South America in the east and Africa in the west, or maybe vice-versa. It is nigh-unanimous scientific consensus that it is somewhere in an ocean, although which one is hotly debated among the chief cartographical minds, and alternative theories have also been proposed, such as purgatory or a dyspeptic vodka-and-redbull-induced fever nightmare. Though the vast Imperial libraries do not contain a reliable star chart, constellations have been sighted that look remarkably like Emperor Robert, like a boat, like a ship, like a rescue ship, like a rescue airplane, and like a large plate of steak and mashed potatoes.

Part III: Demographic Census of the Empire

Following a thorough and detailed survey of the population of Robertonia and Dominions, the Imperial Government has arrived at the following conclusions: The stable population of the Empire has held at one2. One hundred percent of the adult population of the Empire of Robertonia is male, dark-haired, and bearded. Calls for diversification have been made, but little to no increase in immigration rates has been noted. Birth rates have been holding steady at zero per thousand. Death rates are also at zero per thousand, with much effort being made by the government to preserve this latter statistic, in the face of a widespread public health crisis in the form of a deadly pandemic the pathologists at the Imperial Robert Hospital still can’t identify but is probably somehow Trevor’s fault.

2. Addendum, early 2018: The population has increased by approximately 10000% since the long-awaited granting of full citizenship to the white birds that comprise the main residents of Little(r) Island, a historically oppressed and unrepresented majority.

16

The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

Part IV: Taxonomical Survey of the Empire, with Detailed Descriptions of Flora and Fauna

The Robertonian mainland is blessed with varied and diverse wildlife, including several varieties of animals, as well as lush vegetation. The most common arboreal feature is the Robert’s Island Palm (Palmius robertensis), discovered and catalogued by the Imperial Taxonomical Committee in early 2018. These provide the majority of the terrestrial landmass of the Empire with shade, and might also be invaluable as building material if there were any earthly way of felling one. Also, it looks like it produces some sort of small, brown thing that is believed by botanists to be neither a coconut nor a frond. Perhaps it’s edible? The Imperial research committee is befuddled. Little red berries known as the Robert’s Island Berry (Berrius idontknowlatinensis) grow on the boughs of the little bushes with the pointed leaves. These were once held in native lore to be wholesome and beneficial to health, but further research and experimentation has since proven them to quickly cause fever and vomiting (unless that’s still just all that vodka-redbull…or the newt…or sunstroke).

Little greyish newts (Allhomenennesoikeito krateralgeapaskhon, or just call them whatever, I guess) skitter over every inch of the Empire and are consumed as a national delicacy with the red berries. Public opinion of the national dish is expected to improve as soon as the Imperial Fire Project, currently underway at the Greater Robertonia Academy of Sciences, succeeds in achieving a sustained reaction, thought by some to be physically impossible without my lighter that I loaned to that bastard Trevor who’s probably laughing it up right now a million miles away doing karaoke and rum shooters. Slightly larger greyish newts and even moderately larger greyish newts have been sighted in the Robertonia River, but expeditions to further study the animals have failed, as the river is also home to a twenty-five-foot fang-toothed green gharial. The Imperial Committee on Biodiversity and Conservation is currently brainstorming methods to exterminate this endangered creature.

Part V: A Treatise on Metaphysics and the Divine, and the Many Faiths of This Land

Everything’s starting to get sort of dark and spotty and I hear a constant ringing sound, which according to ancient Robertonian tradition indicates that it is time to turn discussion to matters of the divine. The religious history of Robertonia (and Dominions) is a long and colorful tapestry, stretching from the primordial faith practiced by the ancestors of the Royal House all the way to the conclusion that there is no just god who would allow this torment and the world must want me dead or else I’m already dead and this is Hell.

Accordingly, the bold missionaries of the State Church were sent forth into the wilds and the whole of the kingdom was converted to the new faith of Robertonianism, a syncretic ritual-based tradition whose worship consists primarily of banging my head against this palm tree over and over and over until something, anything changes, anything at all.

Auspicious symbols commanding reverence to adherents of Robertonianism include distant sails, the sound of plane engines, and large steaks (especially if medium rare and accompanied by a lack of the smell of raw newt). Inauspicious symbols include everything everywhere I look at any time, inexpertly-riveted cruise ship guardrails, green gharials, and that sonofabitch Trevor if I ever see you again I fucking swear I’ll

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE SIX: The kid turns around and...it’s not him!!! Looks like you’re safe for now.

A. Okay, great! (Go to Page 24. Sorry, this choice is not democracy)

April 9th, 2018

17

Philosophy Professor Gives Lecture On Counting ARTS W-20 Looking disgruntled, overburdened, and somewhat soggy, McGill Philosophy Professor B. Schitt reportedly gave a lecture on counting, the Friday before Reading Week. Eyewitnesses claim that, after stumbling into class ten minutes late and rushing to set up his PowerPoint, Schitt initially attempted to make unsolicited conversation about everyone’s Reading Week plans. Met with an uncomfortable silence, which was not relieved by his equally uncomfortable impression of a cricket, Schitt then divulged his own intention to attend a “conference in Vegas, baby.”

Julia Pallotto, U1 Classics, added, “When he mentioned [the conference in Vegas], he gave us a really big wink, and then tried to high-five a student in the front row who really looked like she wanted to be left alone.”

According to the students, Schitt then proceeded to search frantically through his laptop, swear softly, close his laptop, stare at the clock for a solid minute, and ask, with a tinge of desperation if anyone had questions about the reading. Again met with no response, Schitt stared at the clock for another minute until his expression suddenly changed from a pitiful-looking “why didn’t I go to business school” to something that roughly conveyed “buckle your seatbelts, nerds.”

Chuck Ma, U0 International Development, recounted, “[Schitt] waved, pointed, and smacked tables in a way that really implied he knew what he was talking about. Well, I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I did know that those are the hand motions of a man you can trust.”

When I see force Equate to mass times acceleration, My heart Tremors with palpitations.

I wonder

by Thomas BaRrett

Many other students claimed that while they assumed they had a pretty good grasp of how to count numbers, they had never actually considered the apriori epistemological and ontological crises of an ontic entity extending purposively into infinitude. Some students were even able to boast an understanding of all those words separately.

When asked about his reaction to the lecture, Ma explained, “At first I wanted to ask a question, but then I thought, would it even be worth it? It’s like, sometimes I understand more because I understand less, you know? Plus, I haven’t done readings for this class all semester.”

As the clock approached 3:25, Schitt concluded, “Therefore, we know our numbers, but as such, maybe we also don’t; if you think about it, that’s the true meaning of Aristotle’s Ethics,” while he pantomimed a basketball shot. Students who attempted to ask questions after class were allegedly outrun.

“The takeaway is that philosophy is easily the most important discipline,” Schitt told TPF, explaining the greater significance of his lecture.

“And the most thankless. I mean, those hacks in the Faculty of Science still haven’t recognized that philosophers both undermined and subsequently saved the theoretical possibility of induction for them. So if we’re being fair, every scientific accomplishment exists because of people like me.”

Her simplicity

The Engineer’s Girlfriend

by Sayeef Mohammed

Is all I need, To solve All the engineering problems I read.

In my eyes,

How perfect can her existence be?

She has no flaw.

Rhetorical question -

Who is she?

Don’t you dare mention her relativity.

She’s mine (And Newton’s) 2nd Law!

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The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW: Wilson From ‘Cast Away’

by Gretel Kahn

illustrated by Claire Edrington

As The Plumber’s Faucet film correspondent, I had the honour and pleasure of interviewing Wilson the volleyball from the movie Cast Away. Winner of the Critics Choice for Best Inanimate Object (2001), Wilson also became a fan favourite on the court and in our hearts. I met him on a cold winter afternoon in downtown Montreal.

He was staying at the Ritz Carlton for a non-Cast Away related engagement. I felt underdressed and quite silly being in such a fancy place. My shabby attire did not help me blend in. I was nervous. I have interviewed countless movie stars but never one of my heroes. Sitting in the lobby of the Ritz anxiously waiting, I spot a modest and quiet ball rolling towards me. Wilson is here.

Wilson: What an ass. Total Wilson: They invited me to GK: Wilson, huge fan. It is diva.

I haven’t seen him since Cast be one of the celebrities in Help an absolute pleasure to meet you.

Away over 20 years ago but even I am a Celebrity Get me Out of How are you? when we were on set he usually Here! Which is a reality show Wilson: Gretel, it is my ignored me. I think he is jealous where celebrities are purposefully honour. I am a huge fan of your of someone stealing his spotlight. stranded on a deserted island. column. When the Faucet called I mean his blood was my face and I think I might have a bit of an me to do this nterview, I couldn’t the guy was still very stuffy and advantage in this category if you say no. pretentious. know what I mean (laughs). You might have spotted me as one of GK: You are making me GK: I am so sorry to hear that. the guest judges for season 10 of blush! How has life been treating I still can’t believe the movie was Rupaul’s Drag Race. The category you since your film debut? almost 20 years ago! Do you still was Stranded Island Realness and Wilson: Well, as you may get recognized on the street? the girls did amazing. I am a huge know, I left film behind me. I get Wilson: Gretel, let me tell fan of Rupaul. I keep myself busy tons of offers every week for a you. There is not a day that goes as you can see. Life has treated me comeback project but the razzle by without someone screaming well. As they say, I am having a ball dazzle of showbiz just doesn’t “WILSOOOOOONNNN” at me at (laughs). excite me anymore. I do a lot of the supermarket. It makes my wife promotional stuff for my company, quite embarrassed. But she knew Wilson Volleyballs, and I must say she married a movie star ha ha! we are doing quite well. I couldn’t GK: I didn’t know you were be happier. married. How is married life GK: I am so happy for you! treating you?

Can you tell me how it was doing Wilson: I got married 15 years Cast Away? ago to the love of my life. Her name Wilson: It was incredible. is Spalding and she is beautiful.

We shot on the gorgeous island of We have three beautiful children Bali but I was getting so tanned I together. The little one, Penn almost looked like a basketball! 100, just started kindergarten this They had to put a lot of makeup on month. They grow up so fast. me to keep my look as GK: Wilson, it has been a realistic as possible. But yeah, pleasure.

Just one last question: the experience in general was What is in the future for Wilson? marvelous.

GK: I must ask, how was it working with Tom Hanks?

April 9th, 2018

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

19

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE SEVEN: You turn around and run RIGHT INTO HIM! Not only did he just

see you without makeup, he also just saw you be super clumsy. Tough.

The Plumber’s Faucet Mailbag COntinued From PG. 11 Mrs. Anderson,

Hello. My name is Dr. Abraham Van Helsing. I was hired by your daughter’s partner, a nice gentleman named Chet Harker. Harker and I went to university in Amsterdam together. He studied computer science, but I always preferred the natural computer: the human mind. I digress, for I have some terrible news to tell you, and even though Chet insisted on informing you himself, I have taken the responsibility of notifying you.

I have done research into the occult, madam, and I fear that the case of your daughter is at home in supernatural tales. Ana is completely averse to sunlight. She has no energy or vitality and, when you look at her under the light of a candle, you see that her skin has become as white as parchment. Food disgusts her and we even have to force her to drink water.

Ana needs frequent transmissions of blood. We almost lost her once but, as she began to fade, Chet’s friend Arthur Holmwood, a virtuous man, gave her an emergency blood transfusion. Quickly, she began to convalesce. She is now in stable condition, with Chet and I alternating transfusions.

Oddly enough, she is also visited nightly by what appears to be a small bat. We see it sail out of the black sky, occasionally ducking into the window she demands to have kept open, finally resting on the bed. If Chet and I stay still, the bat will remain and look at Ana’s calming countenance, but the second we move, the bat flies out the window, screeching.

I fear that your daughter has something called Vampirism, and the only way to—

Abraham Van Helsing,

Cool name, bad letter. I didn’t think I could give so few shits about something but, I’m afraid, someone is going to have to induce a bowel movement on me for I have given all of my excrement away. No shits are even left. Also, vampires are pretty irrelevant these days. C’mon, there has got to be another letter in the mail.

Ah, here’s another one!

The Faucet Mailbag will resume further in the issue on page 23.

20

The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

Feelings of An Engineering Kid On A Regular Tuesday Evening

by Reem Madkour

VSB came out today. Yep. For next year. Apparently, we need to not only deal with the misery finals are going to be bringing upon us very soon, we also need to start thinking about the work we’ll have to do next year. Not just for next semester but for the next 2 coming semesters. Why am I now supposed to think about how terrible my schedule will be in January of next year. I worry enough about what I’ll be doing tomorrow, let alone my coming assignments for this weekend, finals or the fact that I’m running out of e-caf pizza money.

Things that happened this year: - Caffeine tolerance : I went from needing 2 cups a day to 4 cups. 200% growth over a year. Not bad.

- I’ve discovered that the “soupe café” in Burnside sells stuff other than soup! At a regular-person-non-McGill-campus price!

- I’ve discovered the climb up to Trottier from University gets dramatically easier once you start doing it every day (sometimes twice someone help me) - I’ve realized that engineering students, in fact, have the option of STUDYING LITERALLY ANYWHERE OTHER THAN SCHULICH WHY ARE Y’ALL SO OBSSESSED WITH IT. - I’ve realized that as huge as the student count in McGill is, somehow I still manage to run into the person I made an awkward conversation with in the McConnell hallway in first year, at least once a week.

- I’ve realized the importance of Leacock as an alternative when McConnell has no samosas.

- I’ve realized that Trottier desperately needs more food options. How am I supposed to spend all my days and nights here doing labs and group projects if ALL I CAN GET IS SHAWARMA UNTIL 6PM. There isn’t even an ATM next to the one vending machine THAT ONLY TAKES CASH. I’m starting to think this building likes to lose money on purpose. Who’s the Trottier manager?

I’d like a word with them please.

- G-store, I love you but you need to have more actual food options, e-caf is taking al my money help.

- UNIVERSITY STREET IS VERY SLIPPERY IN WINTER. - Anything west of Leacock is literally useless for us engineers, who goes there?

Now I see that this list has turned from changes that I faced and my realizations to a bunch of food requests and I’m not sorry. Please consider them and thank u. Now I’m gonna get back to studying for my midterm that is literally 2 weeks and 1 day before finals. Yes this is something I’ve also realized: professors enjoy doing that to students .

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE EIGHT: So far, so good. You’ve been able to set up your stuff at the

library and you’re being productive.

A. Awesome! (Go to Page 27)

April 9th, 2018

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

21

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE NINE: You walk up the stairs to the 6th floor and you’re on your way to

finding a seat. But then all a sudden, you see him from out of the corner of your eye! He’s just far enough away that you can probably avoid him if you get away in time, as he looks like he’s walking in your direction. But there aren’t too many places to get away. except the closet to your left. Strangely enough, you don’t remember this room ever existing in your many trips to the library as a student. Do you take the chance to hide in the closet?

You must make this choice quickly!

A. Open the door and jump in the closet (Go to Page 13)

B. Accept your impending doom, don’t jump in the closet and just hope he doesn’t notice you (Go to Page 25)

5 Ways To Exorcize The Demon From Your Professor Before Finals

by Bahar Pasalar

1. Take him for a run. Demons are people too and they need fresh air. Hell is hot and stuffy. Leacock is stuffier.

2. Sprinkle some salt around them. If they don’t appreciate your saltiness in the emails you sent, then they sure as hell will hate it now- and it will make them leave faster.

3. Offer them tenure. Most demons have been growing in your profs since they were in grad school and onwards. They feast on misery and are hard to get rid of. Offering them tenure eliminates the portal to hell which exists where their assholes used to be. If all goes well, the demon will return from whence’st it came.

4. Alternatively, offer them ten years (off your life)! Professors are clinging to youth. That’s why they never left university. Make a deal with the devil to get that demon out- offer up some of that youthful sparkle in your eyes. If you don’t, the stress over your GPA will age you anyways!

5. Summon...Your TA! He’s the only one who sees your prof torturing you and is also being tortured marking

your tear stained, and poorly sourced papers. Summon him using the tears of virgin (virginity is optional), the blood of 1000 papercuts (readings are a bitch) and tequila (for his use not yours). Your demon prof may have created the syllabus, but any and all credit given for actual teaching are your TA’s. He’s the stronger one, at level 200 ‘gives no fucks’. Your prof is only at 20. He’ll help you battle it out with your prof, and get that demon out.

Follow these 5 easy steps and your professor will be demon free in no time!

22

The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

A Glossary of Colour-Based Terminology No, It’s Not alphabetized, stop asking questions

by Harry Skinner

April 9th, 2018

23

McGill’s Undergraduate Faculties, Ranked by How Tasty Their Students Would Be in a Survival Situation

by Meredith Charney

1. Faculty of Agricultural and Environmental Sciences: organic, grass-fed, farm-to-table meat. Raised cage-free on MacDonald campus, agriculture students are your best bet for a tasty McGill student.

2. Faculty of Medicine and Faculty of Dentistry:

3. Faculty of Music: playing music is more physically taxing than one might think. This depends on what the individual is studying, but many musicians have a good amount of muscle from practicing whatever instrument they might play. Your mileage may vary, but musicians are a safe bet for eating.

5. Faculties of Arts, Science, Engineering, and Education: these leftover faculties don’t have many distinguishing qualities, meat-wise. They’ll do in a pinch, but they’re certainly not ideal. Season them well and hope for the best.

students of medicine study the human body and therefore are likely to keep themselves in good shape. Nice and lean.

4. Faculty of Management: this isn’t about taste so much as it is about ease of eating – people tend to put up a fight if you want to consume their flesh, but if you let a management student sell you a fork and knife they’ll be pleased with themselves enough to not care what happens next.

The Plumber’s Faucet Mailbag Mrs. Anderson,

COntinued From PG. 19

Your daughter is safe with me. Chet and Van Helsing met their deaths, but I promise you it was because they were trying to hurt her. She resides with me in Transylvania now and I only write to you to say that she is safe.

Also, I must say that there is always room at my castle and, if you ever find a bat gently rapping on your window, invite it in. Yours,

Edward Cullen

Edward,

What the absolute fuck? This Dracula pastiche was a Twilight parody? I didn’t see that one coming, like at all. In any case, I’ve got to hand it to Mr. Cullen: I thought that his reputation would tank after the Twilight films, but he now appears to live in self-imposed exile in a castle of all things.

Well, that concludes another Faucet mailbag. I’m looking forward to reading letters from next month! Once again, our lawyers assure you that we have no affiliation with the Mailman Murderer of Montreal.

This concludes our Faucet Mailbag!

24

The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE TEN: Nope, sorry, he just walked past. Don’t worry, he waved at you,

which means he at least knows you exist. But yup, he SAW YOU. WITHOUT MAKEUP. Game over!!!!

Me, Shrek and Rabbit Scatology

by OTMAN’s BROther Imagine a dozen rabbits on your front lawn, just shitting. Now they’re shitting in your back lawn (or backyard, if you will). They’re making a sound. That of a rabbit shitting.

I could never help but wonder about the sound. Is it amplified by the number of rabbits in the front and/ or back lawn, shitting? Or do you only hear the sound made by the loudest? Or does it simply average out?

I suppose it would have something to do with the wavelengths of the different rabbits, shitting, and their intersecting ‘loops’ and troughs. Or, should you be willing to have fun, ‘peaks n’ valleys’.

Speaking of valleys, I just came back from one: The Shitting Rabbit Valley, and it changed everything.

I was with my friend and we sailed together on my ship named Pegasus. People call it The ol’d hip Pegasus, because it is old and hip, I guess. I take my ol’d hip Pegasus for some sailing every Birthday Eve (what I call the day preceding that of my birth). Usually I sail North.

But nay, this year I chose the opposite direction: South.

I sailed that direction and brought my friend Shrek with me.

“Like the ogre,” he had said to me the night we met all those Summers ago. We don’t like much of the same things, except for the one: shitting rabbits.

We passed many rabbits on our trip South, and a whole lot of shit. But not one ounce of rabbit shit was to be seen… until it was.

Shrek suddenly popped up from his nap as the Sun set down from the sky. “You smell that?”

But there was no time to smell, for Shrek’s question was immediately followed by a large thud, much like that made when the Titanic hit the iceberg, or when a large ship hits a bunch of rabbit shit.

I should say before continuing the story that the thing about valleys, much including the Shitting Rabbit Valley, is that they are low areas of land between hills or mountains, typically with a river or stream flowing through it. In other words, they’re small, okay? And the thing about Shitting Rabbit Valley, is that it’s full of rabbit shit. So much so that the ol’d hip Pegasus cracked in half on impact of hitting the Valley. We had to get out.

We got out.

“Look,” Shrek took out his flashlight and illuminated the thousands and thousands of ounces and pounds of rodent feces that surrounded us in every direction. It was a homogeneous mess of brown, viscous, bunny excrement, slightly saturated by orange dots of what used to be carrots.

We were noticed by a nearby resident. Her figure was small, but got bigger as she started to approach us.

“Hmm… let me guess,” she said. “Y’all are from up North?”

We told her everything: the ol’d hip Pegasus; our keen love for rabbit shit; my Birthday Eve; and my friendship with Shrek.

“Sounds like a real hip ship Ship-Shrek shitwreck shipwreck wreck,” she exclaimed.

“I was about to say the same thing,” Shrek replied.

“But let me ask you this… have you seen the back?”

April 9th, 2018

25

The lady’s question threw us off… mainly because we hadn’t seen the back. You know how earlier on in the story we were talking about how we can have both front lawns and back lawns (aka backyards)? Well, we were in the Shitting Rabbit Valley’s front yard… and it had a backyard.

There’s no way to describe it… other than as a rabbit, shitting. In front of us, on my Birthday Eve, were thousands of rabbits, and all were shitting.

Janice, which is both the lady’s name and what I call the lady, told us to make our way to the top of the Main Rabbit Shit Valley Hill. And so we walked.

Every step meant our light running shoes pressing against the firm, grainy rabbit shit, it would ooze – and I would love it. It reminded me of my first wife. It also reminded me of my first husband.

Before we left the following morning, I opened my mouth much like a lion pre-roar, and I inhaled all of it. I then decided to ask a question that had been bothering me ever since I was introduced into the ideology all those Summers ago; I had never asked the question because I was afraid of the answer, kind of like Schrodinger not asking ‘What’s in the box?!’ at the end of that movie because he knows it’s Gwenyth Paltrow’s Head – the name he gave his cat. So that morning, on my Post-Birthday Eve, I found the courage to ask:

Eventually, Shrek had made it to the top of the hill and he lowered his jaw to express shock.

“You’ve got to come see this.”

For miles and miles, all we could see was longeared, short-tailed white mammals – squatting. Only they weren’t squatting. Sure, they were sweating harder than their mothers during Childbirth Eve. And yes, they smelled as bad as the Kansas Jayhawks in early March. Evidently, they looked as in-pain as Julius Caesar in mid-March. Of course, the pain was followed by a smile as wide as that of the Kansas Jayhawks in mid-March. But no, these rabbits were producing stool. And I’m not talking about the backless seating furniture.

“It’s beautiful,” proclaimed Shrek. It was beautiful. We spent the rest of my Birthday Eve sitting on the stool at the top of the hill, watching.

“How do we know it’s rabbit shit and not hare shit?”

He turned to face me and he farted.

“I suppose we don’t,” Shrek said. “I suppose we don’t.”

“There’s no sound.” I noticed. “I thought that was just a myth, but it’s real. It’s all real.”

Shrek looked back and smiled. I saw a tear drop from his big blue eyes down to the maroon cony decay.

It’s an odd image, isn’t it?

A shitting rabbit.

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE THIRTEEN: Alright, you’ve decided to not try to hide in the closet. You

start walking as fast as you can towards the path that leads down the stairs. Hopefully he won’t see you!!

Except he does, he just waved at you. Game over!

26

The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

Aries Season Horoscopes For The Modern Castaway

by Bailey Hull ARIES That cute iguana on the other side of the island that’s been giving you googly eyes? Maybe that’s just how iguana eyes work. BUT, it might also mean that he’s super into you! It’s Aries season, and that means this is your week to make your move.

Taurus Those wild berries that you’ve been eyeing might look like fruit gushers, but they’ll just make you break out into hives and make you see visions of Keanu Reeves eating soup. Stop eating the gusher berries, Taurus, unless you really like Keanu Reeves.

Gemini You and your volleyball best friend might not be seeing eye-to-seam right now, but give it a little patience, and you’ll work it out! Try a nice activity together, like fishing or screaming for help into the unforgiving night, to rekindle that spark you two once had.

Cancer You thought you saw a tentacle last night emerge from the waters beyond the atoll, but you’re not sure. Don’t think about what’s beyond that atoll, Cancer. Don’t think about it at all.

Libra You have a fiery soul, Libra. Who even needs a fire to cook things with when you can just place a piece of fish on your arm and have your fiery, fiery soul heat it up for you!

Scorpio X might mark the spot for treasure on the map you recently discovered, but Y marks the spot where you can find some feral dogs on the island to become friends with. And really, isn’t friendship the greatest treasure of them all?

Sagittarius Spelling “HELP” out of rocks not doing any good for you? Try something a little bit more formal, such as “EXTRICATE” or “RETRIEVE”. A thesaurus will go a long way for you, Sagittarius!

Capricorn It might be time for a change in scenery for you, Capricorn. You’ve grown tired of the view from the left side of the island’s single palm tree, so why not take a trip to the right side of the island’s single palm tree? New surroundings will lead to a new mentality for you!

Leo Has your island society made up of twelve year old boys been not working out too well for you recently? Try sticking a pig’s head on a pike and deposing your current leader with a boulder. Who knows- it might work out for you!

Virgo Consider moving away from the the “traditional” rafts you’ve been trying to build for years on end now, and spice them up a bit! Adding a splash of color to that amalgamation of ocean refuse and garbage you’re using to plot your escape can really add a bit of fun to your everyday getaway plan!

Aquarius There’s a ton of water around all you, but don’t you fret! You’re an Aquarius, right? You guys know how to deal with water stuff, I think. I’m sure you can figure something out.

Pisces You might not as be as stranded as you thought you were. You might just be really drunk at the island bar in the middle of a pool at Disney World.

We’re going to have to ask you to put down the Pina Colada and leave the bar immediately, Pisces. You’re disturbing the other customers.

April 9th, 2018

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WRITE FOR THE FAUCET!!

Do you like the following things: Water Breathing Food Sex Me too! Sometimes I like to write for the Faucet though, which is really cool. It’s low commitment, takes no previous writing experience and we take submissions from EVERYONE. For submissions and questions, send a nicely worded email to: faucet@mcgilleus.ca

Can You Avoid Running Into Your Crush?

Resuming the game you started on Page 5

CHOICE ELEVEN: Haha kidding, he just showed up. Game over!

Join McGill Improv!

Hey! You, reading this! You’re reading something (mildly) funny! I bet you’re interested in funny things.

Well McGill Improv is the club for you! We meet up once a week for a fun open to all workshop, and develop comedy skills.

McGill Improv has weekly workshops on Saturdays from 1-3 pm. They meet at the SSMU lobby then head up to the Club’s Lounge for the workshop itself. It’s a drop in workshop so once again, NO commitment necessary! It’s just a bunch of nice fun people having fun.

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The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. XXXIV No. VIII

‘Remote’ Island Overthrows Monarchy After Arrival of “Yet Another” Castaway

by Lorenzo Carrara In a heated debate that occurred today in an unnamed island in the middle (the exact middle) of the Atlantic Sea, dwellers decided that the monarchy just would not do after yet another castaway happened upon its shores.

Most members concurred that at this point it was getting pretty ridiculous to have a government based on the divine right to rule, especially because Kyle was being a pretty huge dick about it. “He just always wanted to be spoon-fed grapes which is an incredibly difficult request due to our lack of both spoons and grapes,” a peeved resident stated. “And he knows this.”

The Isle of Kyle, as the former monarch declared it, also discussed its rampant overpopulation problem, as “the 5th castaway this week,” washed up on its balmy shores. Many agreed that after the removal of Kyle’s 500ft2 sand palace, the quality of living for most residents would largely increase. Fuck you Kyle.