OUR VIEW: 'Twas the night before Fruesday

AT ISSUE: On the eve of the long-anticipated Tuesday before Thanksgiving, here is Fruesday's creation story

'Twas the night before Fruesday, when all through the bars

Not a student was stirring to go move their cars;

The bags were packed in the dorms with care,

In hopes that Thanksgiving Break soon would be there;

The freshmen were nestled all snug in their lofts,

While visions of home-cooked meals danced in their thoughts;

And seniors in apartments and profs in their caps,

Had just settled down for long Fruesday's naps,

When out in the Quad there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the Village to see what's the matter.

Away to McKinley I flew like a flash,

Ran through the stoplight and across the wet grass.

The moon on the piles of decaying leaves

Created shadows making objects hard to perceive,

When, what to my confused eyes should appear,

But Friday and Tuesday, all naked and bare.

They were getting it on, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment Tuesday must be pregnant.

Quicker than bunnies, their baby it came,

And they whistled, and shouted, and called it by name;

"Not Monday, not Tuesday, not Wednesday nor Thursday!

Not Friday, not Saturday, not Sunday, but Fruesday!

To the far end of campus and through every hall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

AT ISSUE: On the eve of the long-anticipated Tuesday before Thanksgiving, here is Fruesday's creation story