When April arrives with its sweet showers to herald spring and the end of the term, and the giant snowbanks that have dwarfed all other campus structures for the past six months finally begin to melt, what was once hidden shall be revealed. We meet again our old friends the benches and abandoned bicycles of yesteryear, and, like always, the students that were buried by snow and have been trapped in suspended animation since the Fall.

One such student, part of the growing epidemic which Service Point has dubbed “a nightmare in terms of paperwork, and also pretty existentially horrifying, too,” was discovered in the Caryatid Fountain when the protective covering was removed in preparation for Spring OAP, perfectly preserved under a sheet of ice, flat beer, and unidentifiable bodily fluids.

“I can’t even begin to imagine how this happened,” laments the student, who has redacted his name for reasons of anonymity, but is reportedly the identical twin brother of a high-ranking Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) executive. “I swear I was just at Gert’s, imbibing my body weight in vodka, tequila, and actual automotive antifreeze, when I decided to run outside and fall asleep in a pool full of water while I waited for night to fall so it would be cold enough for skating.” This mystery is not likely to be solved anytime soon.

This being Montreal, however, there are some snowbanks which have remained unmelted through the last summer and then some. In many places around town and around campus, the mounds are of such massive size that they survive every year to be replenished again with the new snow. For them, it is only this March that, due to construction plans and an advanced new form of synthetic rock salt brewed up in the laboratories of McConnell Engineering, they have finally been shifted.

And it is under these ancient hills that the truly shocking discoveries have been made. Hapless students are being uncovered in the icemelt that have been trapped beneath for 10, 20, even 50 years. Professor Anthony Rogers with the McGill Department of History and Climate Studies explains the crisis: “We do our best to help these students adjust to life in the 21st century, but there’s only so much we can do to ease the transition of a lost soul from the 1980s into the bizarre modern landscape of social struggle, economic fluctuation, and Prime Minister Justin Trudeau,” Rogers explained.

One of the issues presented by the newcomers is how to deal with their academic standing. “I see no worldly reason why I should not be perfectly able to continue my studies and graduate this Michaelmas term with my degree in Telegraphy,” asserts Jameson Ötzi (1867–1888 & 2016–present).

Upon examination of Mr. Ötzi’s student records (unearthed from the dusty archives beneath the James Administration Building, where the file has been serving as a doorstop for the past 75 years), it was discovered that he has indeed completed his major requirements, but the university no longer offers his degree.

“The program was never discontinued,” Rogers explained. “Its description and requirements have changed over time. In 1927, it was changed to the electronics and broadcasting technical studies program, then later on to electrical systems and circuitry for telecommunications, and, over the years, became what is now a degree in electrical engineering. That said, the administration feels that it might be imprudent to award Mr. Ötzi a 2016 electrical engineering degree based solely on his admittedly proficient knowledge of Morse code.”

Other students in similar situations are currently in the ICU of the Montreal General Hospital (MGH) being attended to by hot tea, thermal blankets, and several dozen personal electric hairdriers. They have pending applications for degrees in Natural Philosophy, Alchemy, and Fire-Making (frankly, considering that the school was only founded in 1821, some of these are a bit surprising regardless). Furthermore, at least two dozen students displaced from the mid-19th century are petitioning the administration for completion of the popular “Imperialism” minor.

Students continuing from courses in the Faculty of Arts are expected to graduate without issue.

*This article is a work of satire and a part of our joke issue*