Timothy Dwight

I blinked once and found myself in a large underground cavern. Moss coated the rocks, a terrible stench filled the air, and dirty water dripped from the high ceiling into deep pools around me. I heard what sounded like angry German words and turned to find a small group of beavers advancing towards me, their teeth bared menacingly. Tony Danza pointed away from the herd of evil rodents, and, at his urging, I fled through the cave at top speed. I reached the far side of the chamber and climbed through a window to complete my escape. In the small room I retreated to, I observed David Hasselhoff and a man dressed in red engaged in brutal combat. Before long, the beefy TV lifeguard was rendered unconscious by a series of blows to the head, and his assailant turned towards me. Once again, I tried to flee, but this time my feet were rooted to the floor.

The man in red approached me, and rather than beating me senseless, he said, "I am the ghost of Timothy Dwight intramural secretaries of years gone by. I charge you with the task of returning TD to its former glory. Go back to TD and rouse your troops. Enter the winter season with new life, for only by regaining the Tyng Cup can you truly understand the matrix."

I blinked again and groggily awoke in the library, face down in my economics notes. I sat up, ready to pass it all off as a dream, but then I saw it: the omen I needed to solidify my faith. There, on the desk, if one squinted a little, my pool of spittle could be seen to spell out Ashé.

(Compiled by the Prophet.)

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