April 01, 2015 by Smitty Warbenjagermanjenson
Back when I was looking at a bunch of different colleges as a recent GED-recipient, I remember loving everything about Drexel University — except the lack of a quad. Sure, it’s got some great benefits, like a bunch of non-flammable surfaces and having dorms close enough to classes that I can get there while on house arrest.
But for once, I’m going to be honest and say that there are some days I wish I had a big green space to lay out in and think about peaceful things, like bonfires and the smell of fresh lighter fluid, and not be distracted from my reverie by the glare of Perelman Plaza’s shiny new concrete.
There are some days, like when I found out a particularly rude professor’s office, who I have taken class with, was lined with fireproof asbestos, when I know just laying out in an open quad and feeling the burn of the sun on my skin would do me some good.
Not having a place to truly relax, especially since they took my matches away, has been really hard on me, and I’m sure a bunch of other Drexel students and their parole officers can agree. The thing is I may hate that our school doesn’t have a proper quad, but I still love this school, and that’s why I’ve got a plan of action.
But I’ll need the help of as many students as I can get to pull this off. Because here’s the thing — they can’t sue all of us, right? Right.
It was while I was on the roof of the Main Building setting up my short range missiles for testing when a realization hit me like the detonation of a C4 slab. Sitting directly across from our beautiful main buildings stands a structure with the architectural intrigue of an office cubicle — Left Bank Apartments.
The more I thought about it, Left Bank rests atop the perfect location for our new quad! Close your eyes and imagine — instead of a big, old, stuffy building, a soft green lawn sprawled out in front of Drexel’s oldest building. Wouldn’t that be a much nicer spot for students to collapse?
Rhetorical. Of course it would be. It’s certainly a step up from the dingy chairs they’ve lined Perelman with across the street.
Actions speak louder than words. But what speaks louder than actions? Explosions. You can’t hear anything over explosions. Not the screams of the innocent, not your own conscience, not anything — not even police sirens, though that isn’t always a good thing (take it from me).
Sure, Drexel might not have any open space for us to add in our own quad, but I’m thinking it’s the right time to make damn space. Now Left Bank has great ruin potential sure, but knowing the building habits of Philadelphia, I would venture that the building is potentially lined with asbestos, which, even worse than its carcinogenic properties, makes it near completely fireproof, meaning we have to blow this building up right.
There’s quite a few ways we could go about this, with some of the options being a bit more fun than others.
First, there’s the tried-and-true method involving lots of gasoline and a match. It would be easy enough to pass this off as homage to our mascot. (I mean come on, let’s be honest, most of the students only came to this school because they thought we’d get to see actual fire-breathers! I know I did.)
Another method for clearing the space would involve an “accident” taking place in the kitchens of Wahoo’s, which would actually take care of both giving us our quad and directly align with my mission to stop sub-par tacos sales on campus.
The last and best option we have is to use explosives. Not only would this provide a beautiful light show, but would be near untraceable, what with all of us involved, and would take care of the problem without any of the mess that a large-scale fire might cause. Now I know what you’re thinking — where are we going to get that big of
Worry not, dear friends! I can’t reveal too much, as I’m out on probation right now, but I can assure you that the unused fourth floor of one of Drexel’s very own buildings is currently playing host to my collection of fireworks and plastic explosives that is larger than you can shake a stick of dynamite at!
The crowning gem of my arsenal has to be a working replica of the dragon missile used in Mulan, scaled up for maximum blast radius. It wouldn’t be that hard to enlist some local artisans to resculpt this weapon into the face of our very own dragon mascot Mario for maximum shock.
There are a few questions that need to be answered before we give this the green light, surely, but the most important of those questions is about the launch location. From what reconnaissance I’ve conducted, Towers Hall is looking to be our best bet.
Not only is it tall enough that we can launch with a high ground advantage, but it’s also occupied with freshmen who will be far too timid to ask questions when we haul up rockets and boxes of binoculars. (Towers will also provide a beautiful view of the explosions once they go off.) But I mean feel free to watch from your own dorm lobbies or rooftops.
Heck, roll out some lawn chairs, pour yourself a cold beverage and toast to the dawn Drexel’s new quad.
I know that right now this all sounds a bit crazy, and if you go by my doctor’s note, it probably is. But that’s the beauty of it, really, and I can promise you that one day, when you’re out playing Frisbee on the new quad with your accomplices or friends or whatever, all those lost lives and damage fees will be the last thing on your mind.