The Devil Is Real

Tensions are high at Rutgers University, as students come off of a strike and begin preparing for finals. Days are getting longer and warmer, the semester is nearing an end, and during this transitional period, many are left looking for a sense of belonging. Many campus organizations and extra curricular activities provide students with community, an important key to thriving in a college environment. To truly belong though, is something that chess club cannot provide. 

A charismatic figure began popping up around fields at night and crossroads at dusk on campus this past week. He claims his name is Ronald Burz, and he’s been spotted out and about, offering students access to their wildest dreams in exchange for their souls. Ronald Burz is a faculty member in the Philosophy department, and when he’s not begging for souls, he’s teaching courses on “The Obsidian Gate,” “The Word of Lord Zarnub,” and “The Post-Modern Devil: An Incarnation.” Burz is slithery, slimy, shiny, and ready to usher Rutgers University into a new era: the era of The Devil.

When asked about his plans for Rutgers, Burz claimed that he has hated his time at Rutgers University so much that he has put in his two weeks and is “going back to Hell.” With the entrance of the Devil has come an interesting aura and the ambient sound of fiddles at and around bus stops. With many students having sold their souls at Rutgers crossroads, there has been an upsurge in dancing to the sounds of fiddles, and skyrocketing approval ratings of demonic activities, ghouls, and goblins. One student stated, “I sold my soul for $50 in RU Express. If Ronald Burz is the Devil, then the Devil is caring, cool, freaking awesome, hilarious, charming, and also kinda sexy! Oooooo!” 

As a journalist, I saw an opportunity to understand the minds of the students who have been interacting with the devil, so I too sold my soul. I sold my soul for six bars of gold, and I sure did get my gold bars. I also feel incredibly cold, and I’ve been hearing voices. The voices beckon me towards the obsidian gate. They ask me to serve Lord Zarnub. The voices are beautiful. I will follow them to the ends of the earth and far, far down below. Signing off, this is Lexa Preaux.

Review of Busch Dining Hall’s “Evil Meat”

By: Hank Verde

The high ceilings towered over me as I strode to the buffet section of Busch dining hall. I began to survey my options for a nutritious dinner when one entree, between steamed green beans and fingerling potatoes, caught my eye. The protein was stringy and seamed firm and dry. It exuded a dark aura that deviously wafted to me, carrying a slight scent of garlic and eggs. It was greyish, but the best way to describe the overall aesthetic of this slab of meat was “diabolical.” My gaze turned to the label above it where it spelled out “Evil Meat.” I asked what meat it was, and they replied simply “Evil Meat.” I asked what it was made of. “It’s made from evil,” they said. I asked what animal provides evil meat, because it certainly resembled the meat of an animal. They told me, “There is no animal. It is only evil.” It seemed that there would be no answer to the question of Evil Meat. I went to town on the Evil Meat. It wasn’t enjoyable, but I kept eating it, as if there was another soul within me, willing me to the next mouthful. It had the texture of despair. When I left Busch, I was unsure of how I would review the experience. That was until I started hearing the voices. I love Evil Meat. Busch is my favorite dining hall. I wish to serve Evil Meat to all of my friends. Everything is perfectly fine. I am Not Evil.

I Transferred To Bimbo High School and Now Every Boy Wants To Date Me

By: Himbo McBimbo

Flaith WcNottin was lost. It was her first day at Bimbo High School. She couldn’t seem to figure out the school map. 

“Are you lost?” said a voice. Flaith turned her head up and saw this big titty man standing in front of her. He had these BIG boobs. Flaith started blushing and covered her face with papers to not be flustered by his giant juicy tits. 

“Uh…don’t worry, I’ll find-” Flaith couldn’t finish before the man grabbed the papers from her and studied them. 

“Looks like you’re in my class! I’m Jonah, the class president” he said with a smile. “Lemme walk you to class.” Flaith followed the big juicy tits that bounced with a boing all the way to class. Before he opened the door, Jonah leaned into Flaith’s ear and whispered to her “You shouldn’t cover your face… it’s too pretty for that”. 

The door flung open, and the teacher smiled at the two of them. 

“Jonah, you brought her!’ Professor Pooh C. turned to the class. “Everyone, this is Flaith! She will be joining our class. Flaith, you can take that seat in the corner”. 

Flaith walked over to the seat. Next to her was this man with a voluptuous, bulging ass. He noticed her gaze, and turned to look at her. Flaith saw a dark-haired, handsome boy.

He glared at her, and growled “What do you want?”

“Your……name?” she said blushing. He smirked at her, leaned in, and grabbed her hand.

“Mio. Wanna go out with me?”

The Final Update From The Albany Sweathogs

By: Dogmeat Jones

Friends, I have some bad news. If you have not been following this page, in the past couple of months, I entered the world of sports ownership with my founding of The Albany Sweathogs, the newest team in the United States Football League.  

The ten-week-old organization has faced our fair share of difficulties, with the city of Albany condemning the team’s home, Waffle House Stadium. Apparently, removing the roof of an abandoned roller derby rink to add bleacher seats makes the building unstable and “unsafe for people to be in.”

I thought I would save money on the salary cap by having the entire defensive line made up of men currently incarcerated at The Coxsackie Correctional Facility. The problem is that the prison went into lockdown after one of our cornerbacks stabbed the other cornerback. Our roster shrunk again when our quarterback Rusty Kuntz Jr. came down with a torn ACL. The bright side, though, is that our backup quarterback, Cunny Linguist, really stepped up to the plate and proved that he earned his $150 dollar salary (I told you, the budget has been tight). 

I truly believed that we were fully prepared for our home opener against The Pittsburgh Maulers on April 16th. The problem was that the 16th came and went, and the Maulers never showed up to our temporary home stadium in the field across the street from our condemned arena. It turns out that the Maulers were instead in Canton, Ohio, losing to the New Orleans Breakers. It also turns out that The Sweathogs were never a part of the USFL, and the person I was talking to that I thought was a representative of the league was instead an Iowa paper salesman who was fucking with me. 

This is seriously concerning because I was counting on the ticket sales to make up for the massive amount of fraud that I have committed to create and run the team. There are so many investors that will not get their money back. There are countless uniform and merch manufacturers whose invoices will not be paid. 

The only way that I could avoid federal prison was going on the run. I was 30 minutes away from broadening a plane to Havana when I was surrounded by U.S. Marshalls and taken into custody. I suspect that the Music Editor ratted me out because he wants my page. So now, I am currently boarding with the warden in a federal prison in Kansas. I guess that this is goodbye. Goodbye, sports fans… I hope you liked my page.

The Median Medium Data Collection and Analysis: Anita Manda Hugankiss

Report By: Personal Lee

Here at The Medium, we’re anything but average. Which fucking sucks. Have you ever tried reaching the top shelf when you aren’t average? It’s so (easy/hard)! So we decided to change that. Presented below is the average Medium member. The Medium Medium, if you will.

Regardless of what they tell you, the Medium Medium member is 5’9”. They were born and raised in Central Jersey, and it shows! They went to public school and did 3 extracurricular activities, including marching band. I guess it wasn’t enough to get them into an Ivy. At least they’ve got a 3.7 at Rutgers. That’s got to count for something, right?

The medium Medium member loves their sense of humor. They’re really funny, and we love that about them. Wanna hear something funny? The Medium Medium member gets fucked by flowers (pollen allergy) almost as much as they get fucked by people (6.5 partners on average, give or take the virgins). 

It’s fitting that we added a music page this semester, because the Medium Medium member is a verse. A bottom, too! With a breeding kink. Which probably explains all the pregnancy scares, now that I think about it. No one fucks you unprotected like Rutgers, I guess. 

The Medium Medium member is really good at writing articles about statistics, but couldn’t find a funny joke for these ones:

Nicest thing you’ve ever heard: “I’m proud of you.”

Meanest thing you’ve ever heard: Something we can’t write in the paper.

Seen all of our immediate (immedium?) family members naked, plus another cousin for good measure!

Masturbates every other day.

Half Jewish and half Christian

Is equally loved by both their parents, but loves their mom a little more.

The Medium Medium member has ADHD and is really happy that weed was legalized, which is probably why this article is so unfocused (remember the humor thing from before?). They’ve got anger issues and are really insecure and don’t know where they go when they’ll die, but the weed helps.

Most importantly, the Medium Medium member is really good at closing this article.

Ps. Here is one last statistic: Jonathan Holloway made $922,364 gross salary in 2021. That’s roughly 30 times as much as the grad workers he refused to help!

**source: Asbury Park Press public salaries lookup

Strike Suspended Wile Focus Shifts To Tapeworm

By Lexa Preaux

After five days of a passionate strike, Rutgers University unions came to a decision to suspend the strike following further negotiations. This decision has been met with substantial backlash and disapproval, from faculty, undergraduate and graduate students, alumni and alike. The main criticism many are focusing on is persistent poor conditions for faculty members and graduate students especially, even with changes made after negotiations. The public opinion has been made clear: suspending the strike was a decision made far too early, and is quite possibly a large mistake. When union leaders and administrators finally spoke out in a series of emails, however, criticisms were hushed. A problem unrelated to the strike has only grown over the weeks: The issue of tapeworm infections at the university. 

As The Medium previously reported, the CDC has been investigating a highly suspicious and potentially dangerous number of cases of tapeworms affecting faculty and students. The numbers are plainly unprecedented, and the investigation seeks a root of the problem and for solutions for those suffering from the parasite. With protesters, negotiators, and President Jonathan Holloway himself falling ill due to having tapeworms, this suspension of the strike is meant to serve as a “cease fire, while many of us are preoccupied by doctors appointments or aiding in the CDC’s investigation,” one union leader reported. It was President Holloway who proposed this “cease fire,” stating, “I was friends with my tapeworm at first. We had lovely discussions about film, literature, and how much we hate workers rights, but the way this little guy has sucked the life and nutrients from me has become too much. I feel ill, I feel weak, and I plan on learning nothing from this experience. I am not a parasite, and when you call me that, it really hurts my feelings.”

A CDC representative broke silence on the issue following the announcement of the strike’s suspension, describing the upsurge in tapeworm cases “a seemingly extreme, and untimely act of God” and something that is “so bizarre that it can only be a horrible, freakish, spiritual event.” During this suspension, tapeworm supporters have become the loudest voices against the unions’ decision to halt. They claim that their tapeworms were their partners in crime, and were out on the front lines with them, chanting in support of unions. The tapeworms themselves are expected to unionize in the coming weeks.

Asstrology, But Tapeworms

By: The Medium

Aries (Mar 21-Apr 19): You will kill your host if their name is Kristina because she didn’t leave Gemini for me.

Taurus (Apr 20-May 20): The tapeworm in you is painting.

Gemini (May 21-Jun 20): It’s when you have two tapeworms!

Cancer (Jun 21-Jul 22): My tapeworm told me that if your mom says it’s okay with you, then our tapeworms could hold hands .

Leo (Jul 23-Aug 22): The kind of tapeworm that you think you can feel moving around you but you are imagining it.

Virgo (Aug 23-Sep 22): Your tapeworm is overthinking and being philosophical and shit ig.

Libra (Sep 23-Oct 22): Your tapeworm is leading a model UN conference inside of you.

Scorpio (Oct 23-Nov 21): Your tapeworm is untrusting and is stealing your nutrients out of revenge.

Sagittarius (Nov 22-Dec 21): The tapeworm in you is fighting your inner demons.

Capricorn (Dec 22-Jan 19): Your tapeworm will sing “Gotta Go My Own Way” in you.

Aquarius (Jan 20-Feb 18): The tapeworm within you is your source of power and strength.

Pisces (Feb 19-Mar 20): Remember a tapeworm in the stomach is worth more than 2 in the rotten flesh.

My Tapeworm is a Government Spy and So is Yours

By Chairlift Charlie

Recently, I was diagnosed with a tapeworm by a yuppie liberal “doctor” at my local urgent care. Let’s get one thing straight– I normally don’t trust these corrupt “skyintists,” but I knew that there was a demon living inside of me, and this was truly my last resort. Here’s the thing about tapeworms: They aren’t tapeworms, and if you think your tapeworm is a tapeworm, you’re in the tapetrix. I said to this lab coat stethoscope freak, I said  “this ain’t no tapeworm, doctor, if that’s even your real name!” The government obviously put a tracker in my colon. I’m sure they caught wind of the novel I’m working on, “The Adventures of Jimmly Wizard Snake” (it’s about a wizard named Jimmly who, on one fateful night, accidentally turns himself into a snake while trying to magically replenish his magical city’s snake milk supply), and now all of these slithering politicians want my far too creative, painfully truthful ideas. My literature will change the world. The president is monitoring my brain waves with a tracker/mysterious orb/mind reading contraption that looks and acts like a tapeworm. I have a deadly vitamin D deficiency and a condition that can only be described as Super Scurvy. I will eat an orange and strike fear in the hearts of every government official trying to kill me. Got a tapeworm? It’s because you’re too close to the truth. Stay safe, my fellow Americans. Stay vigilant. Stay strong. Remove your “tapeworms” with your mind powers.

The Tapeworm

by Animal

Entrance of the human body, warm home,

appealing and seducing me horrifically.

I am a parasite, I am a hungry man.

I am scum, I am the grotesque, 

But to taste your meals and 

sample your gluttony, so 


There is no greater pleasure.

You wish you loved yourself the way 

I do. I live in the darkness of 

almost-shit, no bones no love,

what am I, but a part 

of the human race?

The Human Host

by Animal 

Chasing me down the hallway of my own intestines, 

Are you armed? I know you’re 

dangerous. I don’t want to wait 

And find out. There is 

no escape from your escape,

Soft egress, bestial, 

First-world connection to the deepest forests,

My animal ancestors wear sadistic smiles

While I groan and feel like a wormed dog.

Help me, help me, 

Hell is on earth, 

in my last night’s dinner.

Rutgers Entertainment Weekly