Hoya Rats-xa
Every night, when the clock strikes 10 pm, under the shroud of darkness, Georgetown's rats emerge to ravage the sidewalks of Vil A. However, during midterms, the line between student and rat becomes increasingly blurred. Observers have noted striking similarities between the two. "I saw what I thought was a rat darting across Copley Lawn at 3 am," reports a bemused campus security guard. "Turns out it was just a sleep-deprived Government major foraging for dropped Quest bars." "I caught a group of pre-med students fighting over a half-eaten bagel behind Leo's," sighs a weary cafeteria worker. "I couldn't tell if they were studying amino acids or just really, really hungry." "I nearly got trampled by a pack of finance majors sprinting to office hours," complains a traumatized freshman. "They were squeaking about derivatives, I think?” This midterm season, however, is not merely flooded with rat-like students but also student-like rats. “It’s time,” junior Chet Worthington III says, adjusting his Vineyard Vines tie as he watches a rat climb out of a discarded Corp cup in front of Lau. “The night is prime networking time for them.” In this explosion of mass vermin, some students are nostalgic for times when rats were the minority on campus. “Back in my day,” reminisces Margaret Tanderguilt, a senior whose family has attended Georgetown for twelve generations, "you could walk around Healy lawn without tripping over a rat political action committee (RAT PAC) . Now, they're running the student government!" "I remember when we only had a few token rats," sighs Chad Chadington V, adjusting his boat shoes. "They were almost... exotic. We'd point them out during campus tours as proof of our diversity initiative. Now, they're everywhere, demanding equal representation in the school brochures and their own line of merchandise in the campus store." Between infiltrating Leo’s, Epi’s, and most of the student dormitories, these rats have provided much intrigue for the Georgetown community. “It’s like a live-action case study in urban gentrification,” remarks Sophie Winthrope-Smythe, a junior in the College. “We’ve observed the rats steadily upgrading their living quarters from the sewers to the freshmen dorms, and now they’re displacing upperclassmen from the (not so) coveted Vil A apartments. I heard they’re planning on taking the renovated Henle! Their economic mobility is genuinely inspiring.” Even the curriculum has been affected. "I signed up for 'International Diplomacy in Cheese Negotiations' thinking it was a metaphor," complains Britney Astor-Rockefeller, a junior in the SFS. "Turns out it's about mediating disputes between different rat factions over control of the dining hall dumpsters." Some students have embraced the change, seeing it as preparation for their future careers in D.C. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," shrugs John Peterson III, who is writing his Government thesis on "Rat Race: The New Face of Capitol Hill." "After all, what's the difference between a rat and a lobbyist? At least the rats are honest about their intentions." Another one of those pleased is junior Chip Vanderbilt IV, Econ major and founder of the Hoya Rat Consulting Club. “It is fascinating,” he says. “These rodents have an innate understanding of trickle-down economics. They start at the top of Healy Tower and work their way down, much like our nation’s wealth distribution. We’re learning so much from them about navigating the maze of politics and the art of discreetly nibbling away at public resources. Plus, their ability to squeeze through tight spaces is invaluable for getting into exclusive networking events. We’re even considering offering them unpaid internships—it’s a win-win!” As Georgetown adapts to its new normal, one thing is clear: the days of humans being the majority on campus are long gone. “Remy was in Gaston giving a guest lecture on international cuisine the other day. The line was insane!” senior Biff Wellington shared. “I think GU Politics is bringing Mickey Mouse next month; I heard there was a “Mouse” legacy living in Copley.” The administration addressed the electrifying rat population in its recent newsletter. "We need a heightened sense of community. And by ‘community,’ we mean ‘commune-with-rodents-ity,’" they wrote. "This new community of rats will enhance our students' educational experience in ways we never imagined. They embody the Jesuit values of 'rationes naturae'—or 'natural rat-io' as we now call it." "We're proud to announce several new initiatives: The 'Rat Race to Wall Street' program, where students can shadow rats as they scurry through our economics department. A new major: 'Rodent Resources Management,' perfect for those looking to excel in the cutthroat world of cheese acquisition and territory marking. A sports team rebrand: 'Fighting Vermin,' complete with a new mascot: Jack the Bullrat. These changes will put Georgetown at the forefront of rodent-inclusive higher education. Remember our new motto: 'Hoya Rats-xa!' As always, please direct any concerns to our new Dean of Rodent Affairs, formerly known as the exterminator." Isabella Pamias is a sophomore in the College majoring in Government and minoring in Philosophy. Her hot take? Iced coffee should be banned.