The Storybook Issue

Vol. 144, No. 5

THE YALE

Mar. 28, 2016

RECORD

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“The Nation’s Oldest Humor Magazine” or

“The Nation’s Most Humorous Old Magazine” Join us.

join@yalerecord.com

LOCAL YDN COLUMNIST’S NEXT COLUMN JUST ABOUT HOW HE THINKS GIRLS ARE ICKY Dear deviled eggs, THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! I CAST YOU OUT, DEMON! I CAST YOU OUT! —Priest doing an exorcism. Because they’re deviled eggs. Laugh. Please.

Please laugh.

“YES, WE CAN,” REPORTS ARTISANAL BEET PICKLER Dear blanket fort, You’re nice, but you’re not a real fort. A real fort keeps the bad things out. No matter how high I make your ceiling or how many layers of blankets I add, I still have these memories.

—Timmy, age 8

Dear Jonathan, We’re happy to tell you that we’ve decided to include you in the Rumpus’ special issue this year! Your reputation for moistness precedes you.

—50 Moist Committee

FAMILY THRILLED GRANDMA DIES ON LEAP DAY, WON’T HAVE TO MOURN THAT CRANKY FUCKER UNTIL 2020 Dear kids these days, Quit acting so entitled. You have no idea how easy you have it.

—The current generation thirty years from now, joining our forefathers in the bitter fear of human progress

INDIANA JONES 5 CRITICIZED FOR BEING 90 MINUTES OF HARRISON FORD PUNCHING A DEAD HORSE\]

LOCAL FIELD HAND JUST SEVERED HAND IN FIELD, STILL DOES GOOD WORK Dear crocs, Everyone always says they hate how crocs look, but I think that there is no footwear more fashionable. Losing my feet was so worth it.

—A man who wears crocodiles for shoes and who lost his feet in an unrelated fire

POWER OUTAGE ACTUALLY JUST EVERY LIGHTBULB COVERED IN A TRENCHCOAT Dear carnivores, More like carni-whores!

—A man who really wants to get with carnivores, but they’re not really interested in him, and it’s kind of causing his latent misogyny to come out; the whole thing’s bad

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MATH PROFESSOR REALLY FUCKING GOOD AT MATH Fine Indian Cuisine “A Treat for the senses” —Hartford Courant “Amid elegance, a variety of Indian dishes” —New York Times Hours Lunch Monday - Saturday: 11:30 AM - 2:30 PM Sunday: 12:00 PM - 3:00 PM Dinner Sunday - Thursday: 5:00 PM - 10:00 PM Friday - Saturday: 5:00 PM - 10:30 PM

Every Day Lunch Buffet 148 York Street, New Haven, CT 06511 203-776-8644 www.zaroka.com

BRIAN! Would it kill you to call your mother from time to time?

Dear Zuzu, Wait, holy shit, what? Every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings?

Like, every time? Assuming I can hold two bells in each hand, and that it takes about a second to ring a given bell, and that I’ll live for about another forty years, and finally that I only need about four hours of sleep each night, this means I have the power to give approximately five billion angels their wings. A failure to devote the rest of my life to bell ringing would constitute a moral failure of unimaginable severity. I can no longer care for you as a father, do you understand? My life forevermore is bells. I wish I could have died before learning this terrible truth.

I wish Clarence had not stopped me.

With great misery and horror I bid you farewell forever and take my leave to the bell shop, where I will live out the rest of my days as a slave to the Universe.

—George Bailey, in the original, less-uplifting ending of It’s a Wonderful Life Dear Zuzu, What’s that? Every time a bell rings an angel gets a divorce? Whew!

Don’t need to ring any bells then.

—George Bailey, in the slightly more uplifting second draft of It’s a Wonderful Life

“PERVERT HOOTER” LEAD CHARACTER IN NEW HISTORICAL FETISH MOVIE WHERE PEOPLE HAVE SEX IN HOOVERVILLES DURING THE GREAT DEPRESSION

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CHRISTIAN TEEN STRANDED IN DESERT SAVING HERSELF FOR MIRAGE Dear Yalie with Canada Goose jacket, Do you know how expensive those things are? What a waste of money!

There are plenty of alternatives that are far cheaper and provide the exact same thing.

—Someone paying $60,000 a year for a bachelor’s degree with “Yale” on it

MAN BREAKS PERSONAL RECORD FOR SECONDS SPENT LOOKING AT SELF IN MIRROR BEFORE SOBBING

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Dear Jimmy, Jesus, I leave you alone in the house for one weekend, and this is what you do with the place? The living room lamp is broken, there are cigarettes butts all over the lawn, there’s an orb in the guest room that’s just screaming and bleeding and begging to be swallowed and the longer we look at it the less we know who we are. Next time we’re getting a babysitter.

—Jimmy’s parents

DODGE RAMS OVER-COMPENSATING FOR JUST BEING HORNY SHEEP Dear future husband, Here’s a few things you need to know if you want to be my one and only all my life. I have syphilis.

—Meghan Trainor, who was just diagnosed with syphilis and knows the importance of strong communication in her relationship with her fiancé

FOR SALE:

Your favorite three-letter preposition, now 50% off.

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The Yale Record

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LOCAL BODYBUILDER TOTALLY RIPPED IN HORRIFIC GYM ACCIDENT Dear Cash 4 Gold, What makes you so popular? Why do you get all the attention? How do I get people to want me?

—Cash 4 Silver Dear Cash 4 Silver, Gooooold. G-G-G-Goooooold.

Gold. Gold. Gold. Shiny Gold.

—Cash 4 Gold

HILLARY CLINTON SKIPS DAY OF CAMPAIGNING AFTER STAFF FORGETS TO CHARGE HER OVERNIGHT

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“WHEN THERE’S A WILL, THERE’S A WHEY,” REPORTS \ BODYBUILDER’S WIDOW

Dear Ted Cruz, Please come back, I need to bring you in tomorrow for show and tell!

—A fifth-grade boy whose papiermâché project has run away

Dear 20th Century Fox, What was the Cold War like? How was growing up without the internet?

Were blimps fun? Please advise.

—A 21st century aardvark working on a history project

AREA BRAT “THE LITERAL WURST”

RAPPER OWNS MANY THINGS

Emmy Waldman ‘11

T

he Record was out of money.

It was a dark and stormy Sunday afternoon, and lightning crackled outside as Mitchell, the Record’s business manager, explained the financial calamity that had befallen our beloved magazine. One by one, we all fell to weeping.

“No!” cried Nick, his voice cracking under the weight of an infinite sorrow.

“Bad!” shrieked Chris, too heartbroken for further words.

“Geld is de oorzaak van alle verdriet,” murmured Daniel, weary beyond his years.

After each member of the Record had taken a turn emoting in a slightly comical way, Mitchell resumed his explanation. As he spoke, the storm stuff I established in the second paragraph continued to happen outside.

For the past several months, Mitchell had poured all of his attention into securing a sponsored content agreement with Amtrak. The last issue of the year was to be entitled the Yale Amtrak, and it was to be filled to the brim with train humor. We had already written all of the pieces for the issue: “10 Trains That Are Great,” “Inner Monologue of a Guy Thinking about How Trains Are Great,” “Point: Trains Are Great/Counterpoint: Yes, Trains Are Great,” and “An Additional 2,000 Trains That Are Great,” just to name a few. Annelisa had even completed the cover, which was a watercolor of a train marrying Scarlett Johansson.

Tragically, at the last moment Amtrak had pulled out of the agreement, citing concerns that the Record was not a sufficiently train-friendly publication. Apparently, we had published a piece in the previous issue that acknowledged the existence of cars.

Now the Record was as broke as an inferior Metro-North P32AC-DM electro-diesel locomotive. “What can we do?” I asked.

“Sell my body repeatedly,” said Brian, way too quickly.

“Watch Nathan for You,” insisted Madeline, her motives unclear.

“Sell Brian’s body repeatedly,” beamed Archie, in a heartwarming show of suitemate solidarity.

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After each of the 21 members of the Record Eboard had called out a slightly comical money-making scheme, we talked for a while and eventually settled on writing a storybook.

Step one was to look at some classic children’s stories for inspiration.

“How about that one with the pigs?” asked Ben. “Where they all learn not to talk back to Dad?” “The one with the tree that can’t stop crying?” suggested Alison.

“Ooh,” said Sam. “How about the one where the prince learns to never, ever tell anyone what’s in the attic?”

We paused. It was suddenly unclear whether these were real stories or whether we had all just had messed up childhoods.

“Oh, there are plenty of good stories,” said Ethan.

“Like ‘The Meat and the Wind,’ ‘The Princess Who Was Turned to Meat,’ ‘Beauty vs. the Meatlord,’ ‘The Story of Why You Should Not Anger Meat,’ and so on.”

I stared at Ethan.

“Sorry,” said Ethan, absentminded as always. “I guess I was just thinking about meat.”

“Maybe we don’t need to base it off a classic,” said Rachel. “Maybe we can start with a life lesson. All good children’s stories have life lessons, right?”

“Don’t tell fibs,” suggested Graham.

“The world is scary,” suggested Chasan.

Nick Goel ’16 Chairman

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“Never rip off a snake,” I added to the mix.

Eventually, we had a list of 21 slightly comical life lessons, which included at least one 90’s reference, one inside joke, and one idea that was just kind of uncomfortably dark. After a brief debate, we picked a lesson.

The conversation progressed from there, with that thunderstorm going on all the while in the background, and there were many potent zingers. We worked out the characters and the plot, and we settled on a style for the art. A complete storybook gradually took shape.

Eventually, we found a publisher. Our financial difficulties were resolved.

Months passed, and fall turned to winter turned to spring. We grew older, and wiser. We experienced small successes, quiet disappointments. Relationships ebbed and flowed, doubts festered, we came to better understand what we wanted out of life. We each experienced moments of quiet sadness that we could never share with another soul. Elsewhere in the world, men and women lived out their numbered days, only occasionally—perhaps late at night, in unmade beds, listening to distant traffic’s hum—pausing to wonder about the point. The universe continued.

Somewhere in there we sat down and produced this issue of the Record, which is storybook-themed. Hopefully you like it.

—B. Garfinkel Editor in Chief

Benjamin Garfinkel ’16 Editor in Chief

Ian Gonzalez ’16 Publisher

Annelisa Leinbach ’16 Art Director

Alison Mansfield ’17 Assistant Design Editor

Chasan Hall ’18 Assistant Video Editor

Louisa Cone ’18 Associate Publicity Manager

Mitchell Harris ’16 Business Manager

Chris Rudeen ’17 Copy Editor

Daniel Hoogstraten ’17 Design Editor

Sasha Rae-Grant ’18 Design Editor

Mitchell Nobel, LAW ’16 Legal Counsel

Graham Ambrose ’18 Managing Editor

Brian Beitler ’18 Managing Editor

Archie Kinnane ’18 Managing Editor

Rachel Lackner ’17 Managing Editor

Alex Ringlein ’18 Online Editor

Sam Savitz ’17 Publicity Manager

Ben Rudeen ’17 Staff Director

Madeline Kaplan ’17 Supplementals Editor

Ethan Campbell-Taylor ’16 Video Director

Staff Writers, Artists, & Designers: Matt Abuzalaf ’18, Spencer Birney ’18, Emma Chanen ’19, Amanda Corcoran ’18, Valcy Etienne ’16, Nathan Ewing-Crystal ’19,

Jackie Ferro ’17, Max Goldberg ’17, Timur Guler ’18, Sahil Gupta ’17, Mikayla Harris ’17, Jake Houston ’19,

Susanqi Jiang ’19, Shea Ketsdever ’19, Katie Kidney ’19, Lizzy Kingsley ’19, Joseph Kuperschmidt ’17, Doo Lee ’16, Yanna Lee ’17, Adam Lessing ’19,

Vicki Liu ’19, Roger Lopez ’18, Leila Murphy ’19, Henry Robinson ’19, Jonathan Rutter ’18, Natalya Sanghvi ’18, Harrison Schneider ’17, Justin Shi ’18,

Eve Sneider ’19, Xavier Sottile ’19, Sarah Sukin ’18, Teddy Thum ’18, Rachel Treisman ’19, Lane Unsworth ’19, Alissa Wang ’19, Alex Zhang ’18

Contributing Writers, Artists, & Designers: Nicole Eskow ’19, Jordy Gardenswartz ’18, Micah Osler ’18, Deborah Monti ‘19 Ashton Megli ‘18

Special Thanks to: Bogs, the funniest geographical feature.

Cover: The exceptionally talented Jessica Yang ‘16, who never passes up an opportunity to take bears down a peg.

Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CXLIV, No. 5, Published in New Haven, CT by The Yale Record, Inc. Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520 • yalerecord.com/magazine • Subscriptions: $50/year (print) • $10/year (electronic) All contents copyright 2016 The Yale Record, Inc. The Yale Record is a magazine produced by Yale students; Yale University is not responsible for its contents. Any resemblance to characters and events portrayed herein, without satirical intent, is purely coincidental. The Record grudgingly acknowledges your right to correspond: letters should be addressed to: Chairman, The Yale Record, PO Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520, or chairman@yalerecord.com. Offer only valid at participating retailers while supplies last. The Yale Record would like to high-five the UOFC for its financial support.

ALL THREE LITTLE PIGS, RANKED 1. The pig that uses bricks.

2. The pig that uses straw.

3. The pig that uses sticks.

—B. Rudeen AIR BUD SEQUELS YOU HAVEN’T HEARD OF Air Bud 13: Heir Bud – No one ever said a dog couldn’t be the heir to a marijuana fortune!

Air Bud 15: Herr Bud – No one ever said a dog couldn’t be German!

Air Bud 18: Err Bud – It’s surprising that it took 17 movies for the producers to get to this one, as there’s no rule that says a dog can’t mess up. We just wish it hadn’t been with an Olympic gold medal in polevaulting on the line.

Air Bud 22: Rare Bud – No one ever said a dog couldn’t be served rare!

Air Bud 23: Pandemic Scare Bud – The CDC says a dog shouldn’t be served rare.

Air Bud 29: Mayor Bud – No one ever said a dog couldn’t be elected mayor?

Air Bud 31: Dog Fighting – This time, it’s personal.

LESSER-KNOWN AESOP’S FABLES The Frog & the Tumor The Aardvark & the Stolen Credit Card The Mouse Who Took His Father’s Heart Medication The Fox Who Couldn’t Make Bail Papa Mouse, His Inner Demons, & the Nightmare that Kept Coming Back The Rat & His Other Wife The Fish Who Turned a Blind Eye to His Brother’s Depression The Rat & His Second Family Mrs. Possum Watches Her Youngest Child Fall Down the Well and Does Nothing The Rat’s Third Wife Leaves Him and Takes the Children The Bear & the Financial Disaster that Could Have Been Avoided The Eagle Who Fought with His Wife an Hour Before She was Shot by a Hunter and Regretted It Forever —J. Houston

—B. Rudeen —L. Unsworth

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GREEN EGGS AND HAMMER TIME

IF YOU GIVE A MOUSE A COOKIE If you give a mouse a cookie, he’s going to want a glass of milk.

If he you give him a glass of milk, he’ll ask whether it’s non-pasteurized, ethically produced, and sourced from a dairy farm that doesn’t use GMOs. If you tell him that you don’t know, that “it’s just a glass of milk, ok?” he may start to debate you about ethical eating habits.

If you end up in a heated argument with him about ethical consumption under capitalism, you may find yourself radicalized by a mouse.

If you find yourself radicalized by a mouse, he’ll probably ask for your undying loyalty to The Cause.

If you give him your undying loyalty to The Cause, he’s going to want you to bomb Monsanto.

If you agree to bomb Monsanto, you may not be able to get all of the employees out in time.

If you can’t get all the employees out in time, he may tell you that their lives are forfeit because they contribute to a corrupt system, albeit indirectly, and he may blow up the building anyway.

If he blows up the building anyway, you may get into another argument with him. You may tell him that this isn’t what you’re fighting for, and his cause has lost its way.

If you tell him that his cause has lost its way, there’s going to be an ideological schism.

If there’s an ideological schism, you’re going to end up turning state’s evidence on him in a desperate bid to stop any more bloodshed.

If you turn state’s evidence on him, you may have to go into witness protection and run away to start a new life with a new name.

If you have to go into witness protection and run away to start a new life with a new name, you may find yourself in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife and you may ask yourself, how did you get here?

If you’re in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife and unsure of how you got there, you may go to the fridge to relieve your anxiety with a nice glass of milk.

If you go to the fridge to relive your anxiety with a nice glass of milk, you may wonder if that milk is nonpasteurized, ethically produced, and sourced from a dairy farm that doesn’t use GMOs.

I am Sam Sam I am.

Do you like Green eggs and hammer time?

I do not like them, Sam-I-am.

Would you like them too legit to quit?

Would you like them super-fit?

What about if we were just kicking it?

Well, here is the thing Sam-I-am.

Strange-colored foods I do abhor and I get self-conscious when I hit the floor.

I do not like green eggs and hammer time.

Would you like them going with the flow?

Would you like them as low as you can go?

Okay Sam if you will let me be, I will try them.

You will see.

Say! I like green eggs and hammer time!

I do, I like them, Sam-I-am!

I like them with a beat you cannot touch!

I like them pumping just a little too much!

Thank you!

Thank you, Sam-I-am!

I do so like green eggs and hammer time!

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—C. Hall —E. Sneider

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KANYE WEST LULLABIES Hush, Little North Hush, little North, don’t say a word Imma let you finish, but…

Goodnight, Moon Goodnight, moon Goodnight, North Star and West Goodnight, rocks Yes, I mean diamonds Goodnight, sun Goodnight, son

“That poison apple didn’t get me nearly as high as it did Snow White. Wait, that didn’t get her high?

What?!?! Oh God–” “I can’t sleep when there’s pee in my bed either. Does that make me a princess?”

—L. Unsworth LESSER-KNOWN MAGIC TREE HOUSE BOOKS

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Grammy Twinkle, twinkle, little Grammy How good you look upon my shelf-y Up above the world so high Is how I feel when I see you Only One As I lay me down to sleep I hear her speak to me You’re the greatest Yes you’re the greatest Much greater than God And handsomer too And probably better at Monopoly Damn straight, I always buy Park Avenue

Woodstock on Wednesday Hitler at High Noon A Good Day for Ghostwriting Jim Crow in June Sunday with the ‘65 Celtics Night of the Living Dead Child Trafficking on Tuesday Nagasaki at Nine Evening in the ER The OJ Trial at Two Blazing It at 4:20 with Ben Bernanke My Step-Dad After He’s Had a Few Beers —S. Savitz

Counting Kanyes: One Kanye, Two Kanye, Three Kanye…

—R. Treisman

THOUGHTS WE ALL DEFINITELY DIDN’T HAVE ABOUT FAIRYTALES “What if Cinderella’s dress had been glass too?”

“Hmm… Captain Hook sure seems to care a lot about little boys...”

“Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum? More like Tweedleplease and Tweedle-yum. Am I right!?”

“Hansel and Gretel are probably the only kids who didn’t want to get baked in the woods.”

“Rumpelstiltskin’s parents were assholes.”

“My magic beans didn’t get me nearly as high as they did Jack. I want my cow back.”

“Fairy dust didn’t get me as high as it did Peter. I couldn’t even get to the second star to the right.”

—A. Lessing

My dear, you’re looking swell tonight, And I feel that the feeling’s right.

My talents are of world renown, So are you up for getting down?

Play Barry White, the lights are dim Why, yes, I did just hit the gym!

I’ll pour us both a glass of wine It’s top shelf K-Mart, hope that’s fine.

I say now, with practiced skill, “All aboard for Pleasureville!”

But first we’ll choose the right location For our stop at Sultry Station.

Should we do it in the hall?

Do the deed against the wall?

Should we do it in the yard, And catch the neighbors quite off-guard?

Should we do it on the stairs?

“Rock on!” will yell Rocky, my rocking chair.

Should we do it in the bath?

All these ways, you do the math.

“Hey,” you say, “can you think faster?

You know tonight’s the new The Bachelor.”

Why don’t we head upstairs instead?

Just ignore Walter, the water bed.

As we meet our eyes, the sparks start to fly, But then you glance down and laugh so hard you cry.

This happens each time, so there were no surprises When my inch-long Grinch had not grown by three sizes.

—M. Abuzalaf

NE W HA VEN, CONN EC TICU T ·

MONDAY, APRIL 11, 2016 2 01 4

· V OL . CX LIV , NO . 5

· yalerecord.org yalerecord.c

Ms. Frizzle Arrested for Drunk Driving

BY SANGHVI MEGLI STAFF REPORTER WALKERVILLE, CT— Walkerville Elementary teacher Valerie Frizzle was arrested Friday after police stopped her magic school bus for erratic driving.

Frizzle was reportedly wearing oversized rolling pin earrings and had alcohol on her breath.

She also had what witnesses described as “the solidified aftermath of an orange Fanta explosion coiled into a haphazard bun.” Frizzle was accompanied by a medium-sized iguana whom she called “Liz,” which Frizzle claimed was capable of supervising her students itself. After a few minutes of denying she had done anything wrong, Frizzle collapsed in a heap, in plain view of the children.

“No, we didn’t really notice that anything was wrong,” said Dorothy Ann, one of her students. “That’s how she always drives. And we’ve never been in an accident, not even that time we

“TAKE CHANCES, MAKE MISTAKES, GET MESSY!”

shrunk down and drove around in Arnold.”

Upon her exit from the vehicle, police officers determined Frizzle’s blood-alcohol level to be

.24, and upon searching around the driver’s seat, they located a standard Nalgene water bottle filled with 12 ounces of vodka alongside a box of white wine.

When asked what she was thinking driving a group of school children while so severely under the influence, Frizzle allegedly responded by shouting, “Take chances, make mistakes, and get messy!” To this the children raised their own shot glasses, previously concealed under their seats. “Seatbelts, everyone!”

Frizzle then called out, and upon this cue each student took a shot.

This spectacle appeared to bring tears to their teacher’s eyes.

“I’ve trained them so well,” Frizzle said, right before falling into a deep slumber.

After Frizzle had been taken into custody, one officer, David Hardy, volunteered to drive the bus back to school. However, when Hardy attempted to refuel it at Shell he was surprised to find

the bus cringing away. “Oh, she keeps the fuel in the back,” explained Arnold, and proceeded to lead him to a stockpile of Jack Daniels. Officer Hardy sighed, picked up a handle, and went to refill the tank.

That’s how she always drives.

Dorothy Ann

Frizzle is currently in custody, where inmates report having their sleep disturbed by exclamations of “wahoo!” at all hours of the night.

Contact SANGHVI MEGLI at join@yalerecord.com

Cat in the Hat Arrested for Kidnapping

BY NATAHN EWING-CRYSTAL STAFF REPORTER The Cat in the Hat was arrested in his home early this morning on multiple charges of trespassing, breaking and entering, and kidnapping.

Officers at the scene cited a section of a young boy’s popular memoir in which the Cat trespasses inside his home and terrorizes him and his sister while their parents are away. In a follow-up memoir,

the Cat proceeds to coerce the children into engaging in manual labor, including one incident in which the children are forced to clear several tons of snow from their front yard.

“These charges are ridiculous,” said Horton Hu, the Cat’s lawyer.

“First of all, the statute of limitations has already passed on the original memoir—they can only charge him for what he did when he came back.”

However, legal experts contend that the Cat in the Hat’s status as a timeless classic nullifies the statute

of limitations.

“He’s a menace to people everywhere from all walks of life,” said one local fish speaking on condition of anonymity. “I hope he never destroys homes again or creates any strife.”

Others disagreed. “He’s never once acted outlandish towards me—he’s the nicest, best cat that I ever did see,” said the Cat’s best friend Agnes.

Also involved were Thing 1 and Thing 2, although officials did not say with what things, if any, the

Things had been charged.

The mother of the victims claims to have no knowledge of the matter. When asked her reaction to the Cat in the Hat, she declared that she had been unaware of her children’s kidnapping in the first place.

If convicted, the Cat would face a maximum sentence of 20 words.

Contact NATAHN EWING-CRYSTAL at join@yalerecord.com

Area Woman Sues Disney: “The Little Mermaid Gave Me Unrealistic Expectations About Getting My Legs Back”

BY ELIZABETH KINGSLEY STAFF REPORTER Local woman Stacey Harbridge announced Sunday that she intends to sue the Walt Disney Company for reckless endangerment, false advertising, and emotional distress.

A double amputee, Ms. Harbridge was recently saved from drowning after “looking for Triton” in Long Island Sound, and her lawsuit alleges that “The Little Mermaid gave her unrealistic expectations about getting her legs back.” In particular, Harbridge asserts that Disney falsely led her to believe that if she “could just find Triton” then in his “infinite benevolence” he might grant her new legs for good.

Harbridge is adamant that Disney must take responsibility for presenting these “hyper-real” characters to the public in ways that are bound to induce physical danger and emotional trauma.

Thomas Franklin, the head lawyer representing Disney, told reporters that their main defense will be to claim Ms. Harbridge is

To those without legs, images such as these can be misleading and offensive.

clinically delusional. He added, “I bet she didn’t mention that she lost her legs trying to fly like Superman, did she?”

Ms. Harbridge confirmed that she had not, in fact, mentioned it, due to there being “larger issues at hand.”

“They say I’m delusional, but

what are they going to say next?” she asked. “Watch, next they’ll say Santa isn’t real. Or maybe even Beyoncé. Is Beyoncé’s magic all a lie?”

She continued, “Clearly, the only reason Triton didn’t do it is because I hadn’t found true love yet. It seems like Disney is

discriminating against the dull and unlikeable too. Can I sue about that?”

Upon saying this, Ms. Harbridge picked up her phone and began to dial her lawyer.

Contact ELIZABETH KINGLSEY at join@yalerecord.com

CLIFFORD

THE

BIG RED ADDICT

By Ian Gonzalez

e all know the lines from the theme song for the hit show Clifford the Big Red Dog: “Clifford’s so much fun, he’s a friend to us all! / Clifford, he’s nice and not a coke addict!” But was the real Clifford a fun friend to all? Was he really not a coke addict? Our recent tell-all interview with Emily Elizabeth, Clifford’s co-star and close friend, reveals the answer to at least one of those questions—and the answer that it reveals is not yes.

DATELINE GUY: Tell us about Clifford.

EMILY: Clifford…(deep sigh). He was a coke addict. At one point, he was responsible for a full 1% of American powder cocaine consumption. We did the math. A swimming pool full of coke per day.

DATELINE GUY: Wow. How did that happen?

EMILY: The fame…it really got to him.

After the show was a hit, he started going to all these highbrow Hollywood dog parties. Drinks at Air Bud’s villa. Strip club runs with Marley. And of course, Toto would always bring the coke.

DATELINE GUY: When did you realize he had a problem?

EMILY: We were on set and Clifford was high. The director kept telling him to say

—D. Hoogstraten

W

his line, but Clifford kept yelling “SUCK MY BIG RED DICK, TINY NONRED HUMAN SCUM!” instead of his line, which was “Suck my surprisingly small dick, non-red human friend!” They got into a scuffle, and of course Clifford crushed all his bones instantly since he was the size of a house. The studio had us cover it up, like it was an equipment accident or something—but we were always afraid that he would kill again.

DATELINE GUY: That is shocking, especially since such a major plot point in the show is that Clifford the Big Red Dog is not a coke addict. What was your personal relationship with him like?

EMILY: Very uncomfortable. He would ask me awkward questions, like if I had a fetish for huge red dogs. Except he’d drop a hint of an ‘n’ when said dog so it was clear he meant “huge red dong,” which

a little strange since we all knew it was surprisingly small for his large body.

DATELINE GUY: Were you afraid for your life?

EMILY: All the time. But I felt like we had to keep doing the show, for the fans.

If only they knew how much of the red on that Big Red Dog was actually blood.

“SUCK MY BIG RED DICK” DATELINE GUY: Do you have anything to say to the millions of child fans he’s disappointed out there?

EMILY: Your role models are fake.

Everyone has demons. We’re all going to die someday.

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BLUE’S CLUES: STEVE LONGS FOR A REAL CONNECTION

ON MY CONTINUED IMPRISONMENT BY AARDVARKS, BY ARTHUR’S DOG PAL

Maybe it was the stupid shirt that made me famous.

Maybe it was the unnaturally blue dog. Maybe it was the disembodied voices of children that answer my questions.

I’ve always kind of liked those. Whatever it was, though, I can be sure of one thing: the people out there who say they love Steve don’t know anything about the real me.

Sometimes I hang out in the studio, long after the producers and writers and lighting technicians are gone. I sit in my big red thinking chair, and I ask myself: Would they all be here if I weren’t such a big shot? If I weren’t so great at pretending to communicate with household objects? Everyone seems to forget that at the end of the day, my green and slightly darker green striped shirt is just a costume. There’s a real man inside here, and he’s wearing a second green striped shirt, but it’s different. The stripes are narrower. Hello? Does anyone hear me?

Initially, it was great: the fame, the money, the women.

Oh god. The women. They want to put their paw prints all over me as clues. Their words, not mine. People throw themselves at me. “Steve, take a picture with me!” “Steve, sign this body part!” “Steve, show some commitment and introduce me to your family or I’ll leave your for your brother.” Steve, Steve, Steve. But then when the screen is taken down and Blue isn’t there for people to ogle, I’m forgotten. I become Steve Burns. Who the fuck is Steve Burns? Only God, and my Wikipedia page, knows.

It used to be that when I couldn’t take it anymore, I would find myself at parties, surrounded by people like me. Mr. Rogers was there (god bless his little cardigan-ed soul), and so was Air Bud. Sometimes Big Bird would roll though, tripping balls and sweating in his costume.

But I was never truly safe. “Do the voice,” they would say to me in the club. “Do the voice.” Nobody cared that it was my real fucking voice. “What voice?” I would ask in my normal timbre, whereupon everyone would start laughing super hard and throwing themselves at me. “What voice?” I would later scream alone in my penthouse, turning to my grand piano, the only home furnishing that I actually wished would speak to me. All I could hear was the echo of my own anguish.

Yeah, I’d like to settle down. Give it all a break. Meet someone, maybe even have a kid. But for now, it’s just Blue and me. And Mr. Salt. And Side Table Drawer.

And that little shit Paprika. Oh, how I loathe her.

For years I have kept my snout shut, save for the occasional bark or yelp. I have sat in silence while whiny brats rub my fur the wrong way. I have subsisted on Cesar Canine Cuisine T-Bone Steak Flavor Food Trays three meals a day, week after week, while my owners enjoyed the likes of chocolate, chicken tenders, and chop suey.

The time has come. I will no longer lay in wait, hoping someone else will act on my behalf. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, but even being eaten by a fellow dog is preferable to being domesticated by a fucking aardvark.

Yeah, that’s right. It’s me, Pal. You may know me from Arthur, the cartoon show where I play a really adorable and agreeable and upsettingly docile dog.

To be fair, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think the Read family gives me a decent life. I play fetch. I go on walks. Sometimes I even get to sleep on the couch. But the fact remains: they are aardvarks, and I am a dog. A dog! Man’s best friend! Not aardvark’s!

While aardvarks were off burrowing into the Southeastern African savannah, my kin were pulling sleds on Douglas Mawson’s (admittedly disastrous) Antarctic expedition, hanging out in Buckingham Palace, and even orbiting the planet. Yeah, that’s right. My second cousin twice removed’s brother’s girlfriend, Laika, was a Soviet space dog and the first animal launched into outer space!

Weigh this legacy against that of the aardvark—some ugly holes in the savannah, and millions of ants massacred— and then tell me that there is any sense to this world.

For too long I suffered in silence. I said to myself, “It could be worse, Pal. The Reads, they mean well, they’re all vark and no bite.” But this is a cause much bigger than myself, and the hour is upon us to restore the hierarchy of the animal kingdom. In the name of Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité, Feng Shui, Ballet, and Partay, I refuse to put up with this bullshit any longer.

—D. Monti

—E. Sneider

The Hat in the Cat

—S. Savitz

T he S torybook I ssue

EARLY DRAFTS OF DR. SEUSS BOOKS One Fish, Two Fish, Dead Fish, Stewed Fish Yertle the Tortoise Yertle the Fertile Stone-Cold Fox in (Nothing but) Socks Green Eggs and Scam: Sam-I-Am is a Treacherous Bastard The Clorox How the Grinch Stole Memorial Day Oh The Places You’ll Go: The Cold Embrace of Death That Awaits Us All Why is Ma Hopping on Pop? Horton Hears a Jew If Jews Ran the Zoo And To Think That I Saw Jews on Mulberry Street The Sneetches Get Steeches The Cat in the Cat: A Children’s Guide to Animal Sex —S. Savitz CONVERSATION BETWEEN GEORGE WASHINGTON AND HIS FATHER GEORGE: You and mom are only staying together because of me.

FATHER: Son, that lie is beside the point. Now tell me truth, did you chop down my cherry tree with your birthday hatchet?

GEORGE: Dad, you know I can’t tell a lie. So yeah, yeah I did. And you know why I did?

FATHER: Pray tell, Georgie. Your honesty is worth more to me than a thousand of my trees.

GEORGE: Because you’re a fucking deadbeat, dad.

You know it’s true, because the truth is all I can say.

You cherished that cherry tree more than mom, and that’s why you’re on the brink of divorce. The only thing holding this family together is my weekly silent mouthing of “My parents won’t divorce this week.”

FATHER: You not only never lie, but you utter future events into existence?

GEORGE: Your cherry tree will never bear any fruit.

Like mom. I know you’ve been trying for another kid, but there won’t be any others that reach maturity. Also, you’re going to die when I turn eleven.

FATHER: How dare you!

GEORGE: King George II’s gonna name his kid King George III. Tomorrow the sun’s gonna rise in the

21

east. And Fido will— FATHER: Son, however dangerous your power, don’t you dare lowball. Aim high, think big. Virginia colony comptroller, at lea— GEORGE: By 57, I will rule all 13 colonies. Call it a Presider. Or President. Yeah, I like the ring of that. I will be a President.

FATHER: That’s what I like to hea— GEORGE: Our new country’s capital will be named after me, and suffixed by a dead Italian conman. My face will adorn our unit currency, and also one-fourth of it. Plus I’ll have a patch of land bordered by the Pacific gracing my name.

FATHER: Okay, we shan’t take it too far now. Public greatness only comes from private virt— GEORGE: My face will be blown to one thousand times its natural size and carved on a rock in the American Midwest.

FATHER: Ok, ok, now anything else, son?

GEORGE: The next sentence is true. The previous sentence is false.

Cracks start appearing in the earth. A great chasm opens and swallows GEORGE and FATHER whole. A supermassive black hole appears and collapses the universe.

—S. Gupta

—L. Unsworth and B. Beitler

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FIRST DRAFT OF AESOP’S FABLE, “THE LION AND THE MOUSE” Lion lay sleeping in the forest when Mouse stumbled upon him and ran over his nose. Roused from rest, Lion angrily roared. “Spare me,” begged Mouse.

Lion, unable to hear murine audial frequencies, stepped on Mouse and ended her.

—S. Gupta “I just wanted to make sure they never grew up...”

—L. Unsworth QUESTIONS WE’D HAVE IF WE WERE SNOW WHITE Is this apple organic?

Are these dwarves being paid as much as men of average height?

Really? An unnamed prince is showing up out of nowhere? One word: cliché.

What does it mean to be the fairest of them all? Is this about justice? Because I’m like, really just.

Should someone call animal control? These birds are kind of scary.

What sleep number is this glass coffin?

—A. Lessing PEOPLE WHO HAVEN’T SEEN THE LION KING Francis – She was so rambunctious, so young. Just 8 years old in 1993 when cancer came a’callin’. Taken from us far too soon.

Jeremy – I’ll always remember his smile. And his toes.

So small. He will be missed.

Kate – Sometimes God works in mysterious ways. I doubt we’ll ever know why Kate had to leave this world before the mid-90s classic The Lion King, but know she is in a better place now.

Timmy – The doctors said he wouldn’t last 2 weeks, but our little miracle lived 12 beautiful years. I wish he could have had 100 more. No parent should ever have to bury his child.

—B. Rudeen and A. Kinnane

WHAT IF KING ARTHUR’S TABLE WERE SQUARE? King Arthur: Are we ready to start the meeting of the Knights of the Square Table?

Unnamed Knight: Can I just point out quickly that the table is square, not round?

King Arthur: Noted. Now on to the rash of dragon attacks….

—B. Rudeen THE GOOD-PERSONALITY DUCKLING Once upon a time, a family of ducks lived on a farm.

One day, Mother Duck’s eggs hatched and out toddled four baby ducklings. Three were beautiful and fluffy, and one was really funny and smart.

As the ducklings grew and learned about the world around them, it became clear that some had more selfconfidence than others. The beautiful, fluffy ducklings sauntered about with charm and grace. One duckling, however, knew he was nowhere near as soft and cute as his siblings. But the other animals said he was “fun to be around” and “a sweet kid” so they called him the goodpersonality duckling But this wasn’t enough for the good-personality duckling. Feeling alienated, he left home in search of a lessattractive group of birds to join, hoping all the while that a duckling “4” might be a goose “8”. After a grueling twelve minutes of walking, the duckling found a bunch of ants sitting on a log.

And for the first time in his life, he felt gorgeous.

—R. Treisman

T he S torybook I ssue

THE TRUE STORIES BEHIND FAIRY TALES The Big Bad Wolf - The first two pigs made sound financial decisions, and purchased homes of straw and sticks that were well within their means. They purchased homeowners insurance, and were able to make successful claims to recover the value of the property damage caused by the wolf. The third pig, however, took out a massive loan to buy a flashy brick house well out of his price range, and was foreclosed upon before the wolf even got there. He moved back in with his parents, and waits tables now.

Cinderella - She thought the whole glass slipper thing was just to find out who she was, but it turns out our boy Prince Charming had a MASSIVE foot fetish.

Cindy had to put up with that shit for years.

Jack and the Beanstalk - Apparently “magic bean” is just a street name for oxycontin, and ol’ Jack had a crippling pill addiction which ran the family farm into the ground. Jack lives on the streets now. It’s fucked up what he’ll do to score more bean.

The Princess and the Pea - The real tragedy is that the prince in this story had to spend the rest of his life dealing with this high-maintenance bitch.

Puss in Boots - Can’t think of any jokes about this one, just liked the name.

Beauty and the Beast - Someone saw Brian Beitler’s body hair and general ape demeanor, and just kind of ran with it. Except at the end of this one he gets the girl. Beitler never gets the girl.

—T. Guler

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POINT TEACH YOUR CHILDREN TO READ! There’s nothing quite as precious as the mind of a child. As a parent, you know this better than anyone.

So why not give your kids a head start? According to researchers at the University of Edinburgh, children who start reading early on demonstrated higher IQ scores and pattern-spotting skills than their peers. And the benefits go far beyond what can be measured in a lab. Remember when you were young, and your eyes lit up reading Treasure Island? Remember when you shipped Harry and Hermione? Remember the joy you felt reading Beatrix Potter? Who would want to deny their child that? Don’t wait—literacy is your precious darling’s passport to the world!

COUNTERPOINT YOUR CHILD IS ADOLF HITLER, AND IF HE LEARNS TO READ WE’RE ALL FUCKED I get that teaching your child to read is normally a good thing, but this is kind of a special case. To explain, you have just given birth to perhaps the most purely evil individual in the history of the world. And if you teach that little shithead to read, then he’s going to turn right around and exterminate two-thirds of Europe’s Jews, instigate the deadliest global conflict in history, and inspire countless hate groups around the world. Since strangulation in the cradle isn’t an option you can stomach, the next best thing is to keep that newborn fuck from ever laying eyes on the written word. Don’t ever send him to school. Lock him in his room until he’s 25. Please, just do whatever you have to do to prevent this satan-spawn from ever, ever learning to understand and manipulate the words that he sees on a page. Because if that happens, believe me that we’re all seriously fucked.

Also, that thing with your child’s penis—yeah that’s not normal.

-—H. Robinson

—S. Rae-Grant

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“STOP OGGLING MY GOGGLES!” SAYS ANGRY WOMAN WHO CALLS HER BREASTS “GOGGLES,” SPEAKS IN RHYME, AND THINKS THE WORD “OGLES” IS “OGGLES” Dear Yale Community, February 29 comes around only once every four years, and in the spirit of “Leap Day,” I am thinking about the innovative work across our university community that allows Yale—and the world—to take great leaps forward.

Later this morning I will be leaping over a pretty large stool.

—Peter Salovey

T he Y ale R ecord

Dear death, I have commitment issues.

—Jesus

“SIG HAIL,” PREDICTS NAZI WEATHERMAN Dear Stevie, Enough with the video games!

Back in my day, instead of rotting their brains in front of a screen, kids would use their imaginations! Why don’t you go outside and do that instead?

—A mother who has no idea that Stevie’s favorite thing to imagine is fucking Sadam Hussein

MIDTERM SEASON NOT AS FUN AS RABBIT SEASON, SAYS ELMER FUDD, BECAUSE HIS WIFE DIED THIS MIDTERM SEASON Dear Alex, Who let the dogs out?

—A Jeopardy contestant responding to the prompt, “An incompetent kennel owner”

LEONARDO DICAPRIO FINALLY WINS OSCAR, PROVING EVEN ATTRACTIVE, AFFLUENT, WHITE MEN CAN ACHIEVE

26

T he Y ale R ecord

Dear mailbag, If you are a thing in which one puts mail, then what is a douchebag?

Sincerely, Joe Dear mailbag, To add on to my last letter, then what is a handbag?

Sincerely, Joe Dear mailbag, Additionally, what is a saddlebag?

Like, I get a sandbag. That makes sense. You take a bag and fill it with sand. But handbags don’t contain hands...right? And saddlebags don’t really have saddles. Maybe I’m missing something. Jill’s always complaining that I’m off on something, but you never know unless you ask. That’s what my dad always said. I don’t know, maybe I’m becoming more like him that I realized. He’s been gone for years, and I haven’t really been thinking about him a lot til recently. Some work days are slow, that’s all. And I don’t know, I have a feeling I won’t be here around the office much longer. Just a feeling.

I don’t know. Maybe Beau was right, I’m better than the world said I was. I don’t know.

Sincerely, Joe Biden, writing with an old crayon

T he S torybook I ssue

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This offer is valid for travel on the Northeast Regional train service only. Advance reservations are required a minimum of fourteen (14) days prior to travel. Once purchased, tickets are nonrefundable; exchanges are permitted within the ticket validity period. Blackouts apply on the following dates: 2/13/15, 2/16/15, 4/02/15– 4/03/15, 4/06/15, 5/22/15, 5/25/15, 07/02/15–07/03/15, 07/05/15, 9/04/15, 9/07/15, 10/12/2015, 11/24/15–11/25/15, 11/28/15–11/29/15, 12/19/15–12/23/15, 12/26/15–12/30/15, 01/02/16– 01/03/16. Seating is limited; seats may not be available on all trains at all times. Fares are subject to availability. Up to 2 children ages 2–12 may accompany each adult at half the regular (full) adult rail fare. This offer is valid for Coach seats only; no upgrades permitted.

This offer is not combinable with any other discount offer. In addition to the discount restrictions, this offer is also subject to any restrictions, blackouts, and refund rules that apply to the type of fare purchased. Fares, routes, and schedules are subject to change without notice. Once travel has begun, no changes to the itinerary are permitted. Other restrictions may apply. Amtrak and Northeast Regional are registered service marks of the National Railroad Passenger Corporation.