What is that mysterious steam coming from the Marb basement? It’s always there, and countless students hold their breath while passing to prevent whatever it is from entering their airways. Fed up with not knowing, our investigative journalists (including myself) took a look at what is underneath, and the results may shock you.

The first thing we saw as we entered the room were aisles upon aisles of sewing machines with sleep-deprived, college-aged people hunched over. There were boxes of blue and white athletic fabric. The whirring of the machines almost masked the sounds of the screen printer. These people were making athletic uniforms. In the corner was a bucket that said “waste” with tubes leading to what we assume to be the Eyring Science Center – it is very stinky on the east side of the ESC, after all.

As we approached one of the workers with matted, sticky hair, she did not hear us until we asked what the whole deal was. She jumped, turned around in fear, and relaxed a bit when she saw who we were. This relief was short-lived, however; with panic in her eyes, she said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not? What is this place? Are you all students?” we asked.

With a hushed tone, she replied, “This is what happens when you break the honor code. Nice talking to you, I need to get back to work before… before… they find out I’ve been caught slacking.”

But it was too late. A crackling, wet, squelchy sound came from behind us, and steadily got louder. A growl that must have had no origin other than the depths of the earth, rumbling at about 100 Hertz, resounded so loudly that everyone had to stop working and cover their ears. Slime oozed from above us. Turning around slowly, we were met with the bright blue orbs of a three-headed dog, towering at least 6 feet above us. It was the middle head that spoke, “Leave. NOW!“

Needless to say, we ran and never looked back. But yeah, justice for the honor code violators and all that.