Campus’ Bell To Be Replaced with Audio of Crows Cawing to Remind Students of Their Mortality
Earlier today, the Board of COVID-19 Prevention and the Tallahassee Aviary released a joint statement announcing that the campus bell will be modified to be “more current.” The bell audio track that has played over campus speakers at 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. every day for the past twenty-one years will be officially upgraded to an ominous chorus of crows cawing. Campus’ newest chart-topper is voiced by the indie group Corvus Brachyrhynchos Pascuus, a Latin name that compliments the school's attachment to antiquated forms of academia. In partnership with the Tallahassee Aviary, the COVID-19 prevention board will be switching the looped audio file in an empty attempt to recover from the surge in positive cases after Friday’s football game.
The President of FSU’s Board of COVID-19 Prevention, Ms. Cee Dee Cee, who graduated with a double masters from the College of Business and School of Capitalism wrote a statement regarding the matter on her Twitter page: “The student body’s continued attendance of two thousand person gatherings has deeply disappointed the school’s administration. The administrators, who also fully organized and cleared a football game to happen in a pandemic, are severely saddened by students’ stupidity.” Cee, who gave her thesis on Money Sucking Strategy and Theoretics, plans to drag out Caraona for every last penny she can pop out of Miss Pandemic’s prolapsed pussy.
Tallahassee Avery’s crow expert, Kimora Beak, hosted an Instagram live shot from within an Azealia Banks-level feathered closet and said, “Beakley, Cawnnor, Baddy Omen, and Onyx are so excited to record FSU’s new bell sound! Gooo Noles!” She was then seen swarmed, pecked and clawed by the aforementioned crows to which she desperately cried, “No stop please! I said ‘noles!’ It’s not shorts for cardinals I promise!!” Beak has since been admitted to the ICU at the Tallahassee Memorial Hospital with hopes of healing from her severe scarring trauma. Pandora Clucks, the parrot expert at the Tallahassee Aviary, plans to take over for Beak in recording the crows’s swan song.
As the torch is passed from one lifeless bell chime to a more bone-chilling jingle, goth groups, Poe-worshipping english majors and Twilight LARPers have all coordinated to hover over Landis at 8 a.m. on Friday for the first ring of the new death call. While maskless frisbee players and sick sunbathers beg for death with every moment spent sniffling, coughing and “recycling” solo cups, the new campus caws should only reinforce their preexisitng pleas for plague. The cassette tape with the original bell ringing will be removed with the utmost delicacy by a team of Hazmat-suited audio engineers to account for the amount of dust, decay, and probably the droplets of the original Coronavirus itself that will inevitably puff out of that ancient stereo system.