Reader,
I chose to become a member of the prestigious St Anthony Hall because I am interested in world domination.
I was tapped for St A’s because I, Branston Winstonworth Hunt IV, am fabulously well endowed – and I am not referring to my penis. I will not here set down my family history (though, for the interested reader, a cursory Wikipedia search will no doubt be of some edification); suffice to say that my people are of the very highest stock brought forth upon this fair land.
Accustomed as I was to the finer things in life, I found revolting the seething mass of human cattle into which I was thrust upon my arrival here at Columbia, and sought refuge in what I believed to be a haven of taste and breeding. I felt assurance that St A’s would be a space in which I could form alliances with the society’s elite, and, by their company, further refine my own not insignificant natural authority. I could not, unfortunately, have been more mistaken.
In Saint Anthony’s Hall I found, not a group of likeminded individuals, but rather a drunken, drug-addled, and troublingly ethnically pluralistic rabble; a band both unfit and incapable of assuming the reins of power. While I wanted to discuss the key issues of our times – the Jewish Question, and the moral and aesthetic decay of this nation – my compatriots were fascinated by such infantile pastimes as railing lines off of one another’s genitalia and frequenting the revolting hovels around 110th St. By my absolute refusal to engage in such behavior, I became a social castoff amongst these erstwhile overlords. I was never even tempted by their degeneracy, I must add. Not even that one time in the bathroom of the third floor when Owen offered to commit an unspeakable act upon my person and I refused. Outright.
And this is why I am bidding farewell to St A’s. I will go on to a sparkling career in the service of this great nation and will win further honor and glory for my family. My former comrades, however, will no doubt go on to lead lives of utter worthlessness and inconsequence. As I attain to a position of the very highest esteem in society, they will no continue to wallow in their own crapulence, giving free rein to their own sinful and animalistic urges. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say. Especially Owen.
Sincerely,
Branston L. Q. Winstonworth Hunt IV
