The Rectangle

MARIO


On Saturday, March 14, Drexel hosted New Dragon Day for its newly admitted students. At first, everything was normal — excited teenagers, overbearing parents, photos and forced enthusiasm. But then — then began the disappearances.

As the festivities wrapped up, parents began to frantically report their children missing. Drexel Public Safety performed their usual checks (glancing around campus) to no avail. Panic ensued. Forget Dragon Day — a Dragon Disappearance was underway.

Hours into the night, a chilling discovery was made. Uploaded to the DrexelOne webpage, on the Campus+Community tab, under the Candid Campus submission window, was grainy footage — a hostage video. Ten missing students, bound and gagged, trembled under flickering fluorescent lights. From the shadows appeared a hulking figure: the unmistakable silhouette of Drexel’s own, known, and loved mascot: Mario the Dragon. His stitched-on grin remained, but his eyes glowed with vengeance.

“Meet my demands,” he said to the camera in a low growl, teeth bared, “and if you’re lucky, your students may live.”

With a dangerous culprit to catch, DUPD had a nasty case on their hands. However, they soon became overwhelmed and handed it over to the real police. Investigators were able to uncover evidence revealing the motivations behind Mario’s meticulously calculated crime. He’s had to endure endless smiling and posing at every event, humiliating dances, and cheering for a mid basketball team. And for what? Drexel’s work-study pay of a measly 10 dollars an hour. 

It was too much. He’s finally snapped.

The next morning, another video surfaced on DrexelOne. This time, Mario issued a list of demands:

  1. A pay raise to $50 an hour, plus dental.
  2. A full athletic scholarship, despite being a character dragon.
  3. The immediate disbandment of the Drexel basketball team.
  4. The preemptive resignation of incoming president Antonio Merlo, to be replaced by Mario himself.

Only upon fulfillment of these demands, he declared, would the hostages be released.

Drexel responded with a hastily arranged press conference. “While we recognize Mario’s concerns, the University is facing a significant budget shortfall and cannot meet his requests at this time.”

When pressed about the kidnapped students, the spokesperson remained optimistic: “We hope Mario will release them out of the goodness of his heart.” As a consolation to worried families of the missing, they were issued a single meal voucher for Urban Eatery.

Mario did not release the hostages. Instead, he doubled down, capturing students at will. Witnesses reported seeing him lurking along Lancaster Avenue, chasing after and seizing lone students with his plush claws. Authorities believe the captives are hidden in a secret bunker on the fourth floor of Main Building — however, the police who go up to search end up getting lost and never found again.

The horrors don’t end there.

When Mario realized kidnapping students was doing nothing to spur administration, he decided to go after someone much more important: beloved ex-president John Fry. The most recent hostage footage shows Fry in the center, tied to a chair, his usually pristine suit disheveled. The university’s tone shifted immediately, and every available resource was thrown into stopping Mario.

Then came a breakthrough. Surveillance footage from the 34th Street Wawa showed Mario meeting with a shadowy, Italian-looking figure. Authorities suspect that Mario was not acting alone — his long-lost, imprisoned brother, Luigi Mangione, is believed to have played a role in multi-millionaire John Fry’s abduction. Some reports even suggest Mario personally broke Luigi out of prison to complete this mission.

As of this morning, Mario remains at large. Students are advised to stay indoors and avoid making eye contact with the 33rd and Market dragon statue at all costs. Drexel has issued an emergency statement reminding students that tuition deposits remain non-refundable.