SATIRE

By Marta Vallejo, Staff Writer  

The halls of Xavier were unusually quiet last Tuesday afternoon. This was because every female professor on campus had apparently abandoned their regularly scheduled responsibilities to participate in an all-out boxing tournament.  

Nobody knows who organized the event nor why.  

What we do know is that four of Xavier’s finest professors stepped into the ring with one goal in mind: proving once and for all who is the strongest female professor on campus.  

The first contestant was Kara Schatz, a professor from the Computer Science department, who seemed to be the least threatening of the group. Known for being incredibly nice and sweet, Schatz entered the ring with a smile and politely waved to the crowd.  

“Good luck, everyone!” she said.  

The crowd immediately assumed she would be eliminated in the first round. They were wrong.  

Schatz’s fighting style was the most unexpected of the tournament. Rather than relying on brute strength, she specialized in catching her opponents off guard. She would apologize before every punch.  

“Oh, I’m so sorry about this.”  

WHAM.  

Her opponent hit the floor.  

“Are you okay?”  

Schatz somehow made it to the next round without ever losing her cheerful demeanor.  

Next up was Karen Eustler, a professor from the marketing department, who entered the ring with the confidence of someone who had already sold the audience on the idea that she was going to win. Her specialty? Sales. Instead of throwing punches, she attempted to negotiate with her opponents.  

“Before we begin, I’d like to talk to you about an exciting opportunity. Imagine a world where you don’t have to get punched in the face,” Eustler said.  

Her opponent was confused and hesitated.  

“And all you have to do is step out of the ring.”  

Five minutes later, Eustler had somehow convinced her opponent to voluntarily surrender. The judges were forced to count it as a win, although some spectators argued that it violated the spirit of boxing.  

Then came Dr. Ashley Theuring, one of the theology professors. Unlike Schatz and Eustler, Theuring had no interest in negotiating. She simply walked into the ring, looked toward the ceiling and prayed.  

“Lord, give me strength.”  

The bell rang and Theuring immediately got punched. She fell, but stood back up.  

“I asked for strength,” Theuring said.

Some witnesses claim the lights flickered. Others insist they heard the sound of heavenly trumpets. One student in the front row swears he saw Theuring’s eyes glow. Whatever happened, she suddenly became significantly harder to defeat. Her opponents could punch her, kick her, but she just kept getting back up.  

By the time the tournament reached its final round, the remaining professors were exhausted. Then the lights went out. The crowd fell silent and a spotlight appeared at the entrance to the arena.  

President Colleen Hanycz walked into the room.  

Nobody had seen her enter the tournament bracket. Nobody knew who she was supposed to fight. Nobody even knew if she had registered.  

It did not matter.  

She was the final boss.  

Hanycz had no need for a flashy fighting style. She had something far more powerful: money.  

Her opponents quickly discovered that Hanycz could seemingly solve any problem with enough funding. In fact, midway through the final match, she announced that the arena had been renamed in her honor for being the best president Xavier ever had – exclusively for her honesty and integrity when it came to the university’s funds. 

Eustler immediately tried to negotiate a sponsorship deal. Theuring began praying. Schatz politely asked if everyone could please stop fighting. Hanycz simply stood in the center of the ring. The bell rang and three seconds later, it was over.  

Some say Hanycz threw a punch. Others say she simply presented the other contestants with an irresistible amount of money that would make any broke adjunct professor froth at the mouth.  

Either way, Hanycz emerged victorious.  

The tournament had proved one thing beyond a doubt: 

At Xavier, professors may teach classes, grade papers, conduct research and inspire students, but when the gloves come off, anything can happen.  

Especially when money is involved.