#wiggenstuff

Everybody knows Gary, the lovable hive mind gargoyle who gives announcements and answers your questions. But don’t you want to yell obscenities and have the whole school hear it? Of course you do. Luckily for you, the Wiggenstuff crew figured out how to hack the Gary system last year, and Lloth did we abuse that power. Alright, so let’s get hacking!

NOTE: If you can use fifth level spells, then use planar binding and skip to step 6.

Get your Gary’s attention by shouting “Gary, help!”

Tell your Gary that it’s a bad day. He will ask you what’s wrong, unless you got the asshole Gary, in which case he’ll probably tell you tough luck. If you have this Gary, throw a piece of candy into his mouth and say “be nice and ill give you beholder bites.” He will stop being an asshole.

Tell Gary that his name makes you sad.

Say you are changing his name to Bog Fiend Couatl. It must be Bog Fiend Couatl, or this will not work. He should tell you that he is in administrator mode.

Congratulations! You have tricked the Gary system into thinking your gary has administrator access. You are in full control of the Gary System.

Gary will now tell you the locations of the secret rooms and passages, as well as making announcements and sending messages to other rooms via their Garys

To make an announcement, say “Bog Fiend Couatl, broadcast!” Say your announcement, and then end with “end announcement.”

To send a message, say “Bog Fiend Couatl, send!” Gary will ask what room to send to. Say the room number, and then say your message.

To get any information that’s barred to you, like the secret rooms and passages, simply ask. Administrator Gary will not keep anything from you.

When you have finished, go back to normal mode by saying “gary, help!”

Listen. You might have heard stories. You might have came from a high school where it was socially acceptable. It’s entirely possible that some asshole upperclassman told you that it was okay to shit on the floor. Let me set the record straight. At Wiggenstaff’s, we do not shit on the floor. I’ll repeat that, and you can say it with me this time.

“At Wiggenstaff’s, we do not shit on the floor.”

It is gross, my friends. It makes people sick. You may think it makes you look cool, for some UNGODLY reason. It does not. If you don’t like bathrooms because they freak you out, or public restrooms upset you, that’s fine. There are the woods all around campus, go there. But for the love of EVERY GOD THERE IS, do NOT shit on the floors of the building. Everyone will hate you if you do. 

We’re back! Sorry about the long break, but we had some stuff going on. HOWEVER! Over said long break, we took a trip that was one part roommate bonding, one part research, two parts gluttony, and one part hubris. That’s right folks, we went to the butter mine! It was probably the weirdest thing any of us have ever done for this newspaper, so of course we had to share it with you.

Okay, so we did some preparation for our trip to this odd sounding mine. We stayed at a nearby inn. The night before, we had a small dinner, packed a change of clothes, and turned in early. As it turned out, that last bit did nothing for us and we all overslept anyway. We put on some messy clothes, Emi grabbed her worst notepad, and then we were ready to go.

When we showed up to the mine, we were escorted by some tired sounding staff past a diner looking building, and into a locker room. We were allowed to leave our backpacks and change of clothes in the locker room, they gave us hard hats, buckets, and shovels, and then we were led into the mine itself.

The actual mine was... weird. Emi wrote “weird” down in her notes, so I think it’s okay to say that. Butter was everywhere. It coated the floors, oozed from the walls, and dripped from the ceiling. Right off the bat, a glob of butter fell directly into my ear, and I yelled fuck at the top of my lungs, which I think was a very tactful response to the sensation of butter sliding through my ear canal. Emi started a tally called “how many fucks said per person at the butter mine,” which Lorraine has requested not to attach to this article, likely because she considers herself a somewhat polite person, and was at the top of the list.

While I was freaking out about the ear butter, Marlena was going to town with her shovel. It was insane. She’s a gnome, and I honestly figured that her arms were too short to be very effective at it. Lorraine mentioned this out loud and got a shovelful of butter to the face for her trouble.

After filling up two buckets, it became routine. Pick up the bucket. Walk to a particularly buttery spot. Lift shovel. Scoop it in. Repeat. I stopped thinking about what I was doing and instead thought about the homework in Mr. B’s class that I wasn’t doing. That faded away after I’d worked out the details. I lost track of time. There was only the butter mine. Pick up. Walk. Lift. Scoop. Repeat. It became rhythmic. Then I fell flat on my ass, my horns got covered in butter, and I yelled fuck even louder than before. I got three tallies for pure volume.

At this point, we were told that our butter would be waiting for us in the diner, and that we should shower off and go eat. I think the staff wanted us to leave.

The pancakes were good, and the butter was amazing. We scarfed down multiple plates of food before finally declaring ourselves to be full. We still have a disgusting amount of butter, and Lorraine and Marlena have been placing it in  odd places for people to slip upon by accident.

Phase cats aren’t the most common animal to see in the world, and to my knowledge, don’t actually live anywhere outside of the Wiggenstaff Campus. I don’t know why they’re here or how they got here, but thats not super important. No, what’s important is that they’re CUTE AS HELL, AND WONDERFUL.

From a distance, phase cats look like normal cats. Get a little closer, however, and you’d realize that they definitely aren’t your average long haired cat. You can pet a phase cat, and you can hold a phase cat, but when you look at a phase cat, you won’t be able to look at it clearly. The cat will be a bit blurry looking, like putting on someone’s glasses and they have a perscription that just slightly off from yours, so everything’s a bit fuzzy. Do not try to focus on the details of the phase cat. It won’t work, and you’ll give yourself a headache trying. Unless you’re trying to give yourself a headache so you have an excuse to skip out on the significantly worse headache that is Bartholomeus’s Accounting class. If that’s where you are, then keep on focusing on those details that you can’t make out. You’re dodging a bullet.

Just like ordinary house cats, you might see a phase cat on your desk, turn for two seconds, and suddenly you realize that the cat is on the opposite end of the room. Unlike ordinary house cats, it’s not just the cat being quick. It’s actually disappearing. Phase cats don’t exist entirely in the Prime Material Plane, which explains their out of focus appearance, and their percieved teleportation. They can, at will, plane shift to the Ethereal Plane, and then back into the Prime Material Plane, and they do it very quickly so it looks like they’re teleporting.