Following their first 26 emails this week, which contained zero relevant information and served no clear purpose, your dorm’s Housing Front Desk has now sent you a 27th email which — despite looking exactly like the first 26 — actually contains information necessary for you to graduate.

Unfortunately, sources report that, just as you didn’t read the initial 26 useless ones, you also chose not to read this new, VERY IMPORTANT 27th one. Far from reminding you that your radiator will never work and the deadline for terminating spring quarter housing was two weeks ago, this email contained vital information about graduation that you will now never have. University leadership has subsequently confirmed that this will be the decisive factor in preventing you from earning your degree.

“It’s too bad you chose not to read the latest housing email, since your willful choice not to means you’re no longer eligible for a Stanford diploma,” remarked Provost Persis Drell with a nonchalant shrug. “Even though emails one through twenty-six were full of meaningless fluff and inconsequential legalese, this latest one required multiple readings and a complicated [Action Needed] follow-up in order for you to continue your degree progress.”

Additional reporting indicates that every undergraduate, with the sole exception of you, successfully completed the required steps, since they are good and normal adults who read every email they get. You’re the only one who didn’t read this very important email, and you will pay a steep price for your negligence.

“Of course I read the latest email from R&DE Student Housing Operations; doesn’t everyone?” confirmed your roommate. “And good thing I did, too! There was a link buried halfway through it which routed to a Google Form, the successful completion of which opened a new browser window, which linked back to the initial form, which (upon a secondary completion) transitioned to a point-and-click puzzle game, wherein clicking on the fruit-bowl opened a secret portal to a third form, which asked me to check a box confirming I still want a diploma.”

“Dang, good thing I read that email!” your roommate added with the unworried smile of a well-fed sea slug. “I can’t imagine how screwed I’d be if I wasn’t pathologically compelled to read — and annotate! — all official messages from the university.”

Also, you forgot to call your parents this week, and they got run over by a monster truck.

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