After four long years, your high school career is coming to an end. You’ve been hard at work applying to college, and Georgetown is one of your top choices. But hold on there cowperson, it’s not as simple as that. Which school are you applying to?
You want to be in the SFS. (go to box 2)
You prefer the prestige of the College. (go to box 1)
Business School, baby! (go to box 3)
Nursing and Health Studies is what you’re after. (go to box 4)
After months of nailbiting, you arrive home to find a letter in your mailbox bearing the Georgetown logo. My, that’s a thin envelope. You carefully open it and discover:
You’ve been accepted! Sadly, you still have no identity. (go to box 5).
You’ve been rejected. (go to box 6).
Tensions are high in your household. The nightly floggings that your parents have been administering to help you prepare for the AP tests are beginning to lose their effectiveness. You arrive home one afternoon to discover a letter from Georgetown, already opened, on the kitchen table.
You’ve been accepted! Unfortunately, the floggings will continue. (go to box 5)
You’ve been rejected. (go to box 7)
Business eh? You spend the last eight months of your senior year in high school partying hard, and arrive home one day to discover a letter from Georgetown. Georgetown? Oh yeah, that college application. Well, let’s see what it says.
You’ve been accepted! Pick up your standard issue butt-shorts and proceed to box 5.
You’ve been rejected. (go to box 8)
Congratulations! You’re in!
Proceed to Box 5
What do they know? You have your plans for a start-up company (out of your parents’ garage).
The End. (No, really. The end.)
Oh well, Georgetown wasn’t really your first choice anyway. Tufts is where it’s at.
The End.
Hello Rutgers!
The End.
You arrive at Georgetown and are assigned to a dorm.
It’s New South. (go to box 9)
It’s Darnall. (go to box 10)
It’s Harbin’s “living well” floor. (go to box 11)
New South? Your dorm smells bad and the bathrooms are cold. OK, let’s talk about what we meant by “adventure”…
Proceed to Box 12
You and your floormates party so hard that your RA quits in desperation. Herbert was right, Living well IS the best revenge!
Proceed to Box 12
You contract an STD. Crabs? No, more like dogs.
Proceed to Box 12
Your roommate’s penchant for playing German-Romanian death metal at midnight (apparently that’s when the demons are most responsive) is beginning to wear on your nerves.
You apply for a room transfer. (go to box 14)
You decide to tough it out and hope for the best. (go to box 13)
The demons respond. Well, that’s what you get for lying on the roommate preferences form. Oh yeah, They knew. They always know.
Proceed to Box 15
Your new roommate is soooooo much better than the shaman of darkness. Then you find the dip spitoons.
Proceed to Box 15
You have the hots for someone on your floor.
You hook up. (Go to box 16)
You decide not to hook up. (Go to box 17)
Bad Idea. It’s not as good as you expected and they steal your underwear. Proceed to box 18
You get really drunk one night and hook up anyway. Go to box 18
Junior year is approaching. Just about everyone you know is going abroad. The posters in the Study Abroad fair are calling to you, and there are still spots for Sierra Leone!
You apply to go abroad and pack your bags for a culturally enriching
and educational experience. Head to box 19.
Study abroad is for nerds. I’m-a stayin’ right here! Go to box 20.
Housing screws up. Proceed to box. No, really, proceed to box. You also have no friends. Proceed to cry.
Then go to box 21.
You fall in love with a fine specimen of professional Eurotrash and are never heard from again.
The End.
Your friends want you to run for GUSA. You suspect they’re just angling for a position on your campaign staff with a cool title that they can stick on their resumes. Still, the idea is tempting.
You decide to run for GUSA. Go to box 22.
Come on. GUSA’s a joke. No way, I’m going to box 23.
You run in the GUSA election and win the popular vote. However, you go over budget by $4 and get disqualified.
Proceed to box 24.
Someone asks you to meet him at 7:14 p.m. outside Chu’s Cafe. It turns out your off-hand comment about GUSA being a joke is actually the motto of Georgetown’s most non-secret secret society. You’ve been tapped to join the Stewards! Do you accept or decline?
You join in order to infiltrate them and find out what
they’re all about. Go to box 25.
You’re not male. Go to box 26.
It turns out that the Stewards are all about taking pictures of people’s feet. They show you the secret Foot Repository where they have thousands of pictures of feet, all taken on the hilltop, dating back to 1985. Well … that’s that.
Proceed to box 24.
Bully for you. Who IS male, in this day and age? Uh … you eat a salad and wear something pink.
Proceed to box 24.
Your career at Georgetown is coming to an end. You take a moment to reminisce about the great adventure of higher education.
There are so many memories … applying to college, moving into a dorm, meeting your roommate, hooking up with someone on your floor, running or not running for GUSA, joining or not joining the Stewards … it’s been a wild ride. So what’s next?
Well … wait. What school were you in again?
If SFS, go to box 27.
If MSB, go to box 28.
If NHS, go to box 29.
If you were in the College, go to box 30.
You wake up in a rippling pool of your own vomit on 38th Street, just like you do every Sunday morning. It’s time for mass, get going. The End.
You join the Peace Corps or the State Department. Go back to Box 1 and add “as it relates to international
politics” to each statement.
You become a nurse. What did you expect?
The End.
You graduate and get a job. What kind of job? How should we know. We are a weekly newsmagazine, not a career counselor. Does it even matter? The End.
