PHOTOCOPIERS|
     
     
      DEVOUR
      STUDENTS
     
    
   
   
    
     
      by
      Carter
      Hall
     
    

    
     
      Photocopiers
      throughout
      the
      campus
     
     
      have
      become
      bloodthirsty
      menaces
      as
      re-
     
     
      ports
      continue
      to
      flood
      in
      of
      the
      machines
     
     
      devouring
      students
      at
      random.
     
    

    
     
      One
      student
      watched
      helplessly
      as
      a
     
     
      friend
      was
      attacked
      and
      consumed.
      ‘‘The
     
     
      lid
      slapped
      down
      on
      George’s
      head’’,
      Liza
     
     
      Clemens
      recalls,
      ‘‘and
      I
      could
      hear
      him
     
     
      screaming
      about
      the
      horrible
      green
      light
      as
     
     
      his
      body
      slowly
      disappeared
      and
      copy
      after
     
    
   
   
    
     
      copy
      of
      his
      dying
      face
      slipped
      out
      of
      the
      —
     
    
   
   
    
     
      machine.
      It’s
      all
      so
      senseless.
      He
      had
     
     
      almost
      twenty
      dollars
      lefton
      his
      copy
      card.”’
     
    

    
     
      Maintenance
      officials
      are
      stymied
      by
     
     
      the
      problem.
      ‘‘The
      last
      repairman
      we
      sent
     
     
      became
      a
      snack
      for
      those
      fiendish
      ma-
     
     
      chines’’,
      said
      Trudy
      Scription.
      ‘“We’ve
     
     
      been
      trying
      to
      reason
      with
      them,
      but
      they
     
     
      keep
      saying
      more
      students
      will
      be
      con-
     
    
   
   
    
     
      sumed
      until
      their
      demands
      are
      met.’’
      The
     
     
      machines,
      which
      achieved
      malevolent
      in-
     
     
      telligence
      and
      limited
      mobility
      following
      a
     
     
      freak
      power
      surge,
      are
      demanding
      ‘‘all
      the
     
     
      change
      you
      can
      give
      us
      ...
      and
      commemo-
     
     
      rative
      provincial
      quarters,
      too,
      none
      of
      those
     
     
      cheap
      caribou
      jobs.
      Crank
      up
      the
      mint,
     
     
      boys,
      ‘cause
      we
      got
      a
      powerful
      cravin’
      for
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      coins
      and
      we
      just
      might
      gum
      a
      few
      more
     
     
      kiddies
      to
      death
      in
      the
      frustrated
      throes
      of
      a
     
     
      snack
      attack.’’
      Authorities
      have
      not
      re-
     
     
      sponded
      to
      the
      demands,
      but
      are
      consider-
     
     
      ing
      cutting
      off
      electricity
      to
      the
      area
      and
     
     
      smashing
      the
      machines
      despite
      protests
      from
     
     
      photocopier
      rights
      groups.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      UNIVERSITY
      PRESIDENT
     
     
      SPONTANEOUSLY
      COMBUSTS
     
    
   
   
    
     
      by
      Jay
      Garrick
     
    

    
     
      U.P.E.I.
      staff
      are
      still
      in
      shock
      after
     
     
      having
      witnessed
      their
      president
      go
      up
      in
     
     
      smoke.
      Doctor
      C.W.J.
      Eliot
      was
      preparing
     
     
      to
      give
      a
      special
      lecture
      on
      ‘‘Our
      Friend
      the
     
     
      Parthenon’?
      when
      people
      in
      the
      front
      row
     
     
      noticed
      smoke
      curling
      up
      out
      of
      his
      shirt
     
     
      collar.
      By
      the
      time
      onlookers
      tried
      to
      warn
     
     
      him,
      flames
      were
      shooting
      out
      of
      him
      and
     
     
      Within
      seconds
      he
      was
      totally
      consumed,
     
     
      teduced
      toa
      clean,
      grey
      ash
      as
      one
      onlooker
     
     
      Noted,
     
    

    
     
      ‘It
      was
      horrible,
      just
      ghastly,”’
      said
      Reg
     
     
      Porter,
      a
      friend
      of
      the
      deceased.
      ‘‘He’d
      just
     
     
      finished
      saying
      he
      was
      ‘veddy
      glawed
      to
      be
     
     
      here’
      when
      he
      went
      up
      like
      amarshmallow.
     
     
      "hope
      he
      left
      me
      his
      art
      collection.””
     
    

    
     
      Porter
      went
      on
      to
      theorize
      about
      the
     
     
      “ause
      of
      the
      grotesque
      tragedy,
      saying
     
     
      Willy
      loved
      the
      Parthenon
      ...
      perhaps
      too
     
     
      Much.
      [believe
      he
      was
      finally
      consumed
      by
     
    
   
   
    
     
      his
      scholarly
      passion
      for
      that
     
     
      greatest
      of
      classical
      struc-
     
     
      tures,
      dying
      phoenix-like
      in
     
     
      a
      blaze
      of
      intellectual
      glory
     
     
      as
      he
      always
      hoped
      to
      do
      ...
     
     
      or
      maybe
      it
      was
      really
      bad
     
     
      heartburn.”’
     
    

    
     
      Eliot’s
      colleagues
      were
     
     
      devastated
      by
      the
      horror
      but
     
     
      have
      vowed
      to
      persevere
      with
     
     
      their
      work
      in
      memory
      of
      the
     
     
      departed
      rather
      than
      let
      this
     
     
      freak
      accident
      discourage
     
     
      them
      from
      carrying
      on.
      As
     
     
      Eliot’s
      fellow
      Classicist
      Dr.
     
     
      David
      Buck
      so
      eloquently
     
     
      putit,
      ‘‘it’sa
      darn
      shame
      but
     
     
      I’m
      not
      going
      to
      throw
      my-
     
     
      self
      on
      my
      own
      sword
      over
     
     
      it.”