Once upon a time, in the nearby Kingdom of Wilson, there was a happy and carefree girl named Snow White `09, who was as beautiful as could be. She had hair the color of night, lips as red as a luscious pepperoni, and skin as white as Robertson Hall. (These characterizations are a product of the male-centric man-ocracy at the heart of our society, which puts an emphasis on beauty and simile. But they’re still relatively accurate if you tilt your head and squint.)
She loved studying, frolicking, and extracurricular activities, as every young girl does. In those days, the Kingdom of Wilson was a peaceful place with much opportunity for contemplation, and Snow White `09 led a happily carefree life. So carefree a life, in fact, that she spent six months frolicking all across Europe, loving the people and being loved by them.
But one fateful day, Snow White `09 knew that she must return to the Kingdom of Wilson, for soon classes were to resume, and she had taken none of her pre-reqs. With a sigh, she packed her belongings and prepared herself to resume her princessly duties, which mostly involved waving at crowds and handing in problem sets.
In Snow White `09’s absence, however, the Kingdom of Wilson had fallen into chaos and disarray; it was no longer as it once had been, a peaceful place for contemplation. There was another girl who now lived in the Kingdom of Wilson, a vile girl who never waved at crowds at all; she would walk past them with chin held high and hands in the pocket of her stylish yet evil hoodie. This girl had a heart as black as coal, lips as red as a blood sample being tested for mono, and skin as white as an evil Robertson Hall. Every morning she would stroke her hair 135 times and ask her magic mirror on the wall (for of course such an evil girl simply must have a magic mirror), “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who has the biggest single of all?”
And her mirror, which was actually hung on her door, not the wall, would respond back to her,
Why of course it must be you,
with biggest room, and perfect view.
Yes, that little witch loved her single more than you can imagine. Posters strewn across every wall sat above abandoned textbooks. Stuffed animals littered her bed, full of evil fluff, opposite her evil micro-fridge, where she stored eye of newt alongside last week’s Chinese food. The chaos was as beautiful as it was terrifying.
But one morning, the evil queen was in for quite a shock. As she did every morning, she asked her mirror, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who has the biggest single of all?” This morning, the mirror told her,
It is not thou, my lovely queen.
For now thy room is split between
Thee and another in the bubble.
Today you only have a double.
The queen screamed with rage, and threw a shoe. She did not understand what could have happened to ruin the perfect room in which she had taken such pride. After a moment’s brooding she turned to the mirror once again and demanded, “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is moving to our hall?”
A new girl, Snow White, Class of `09
shall share the space that is now thine.
I’m sorry that this I must confess,
but that’s how it looks from my egress.
The queen screamed with rage once more, and threw a second shoe, before her RA came to the door and asked her to quiet down. And while the mirror grew concerned about the implications of living with a distraught queen wielding shoes, the queen began to plot (as evil queens are wont to do). She plotted, and plotted, and plotted some more; she plotted so epically that her scheming cannot adequately be expressed by the written word. But oh! at last, she had a plan. A foolproof plan, she thought. Though exactly who it would prove the fool is a story for another day.
