In a startling turn of events, the Hopkins Marine Station in Monterey, California, was captured by pirates last weekend.
According to eye-witness sources, a full-rig frigate with 20 cannons a-side approached before dawn. It anchored not far from shore, and lowered multiple jolly-boats to the tempestuous sea, each overflowing with battle-hardened pirates. They rowed to the beach and then climbed up the bluff to the Marine Station where they quickly overpowered the unsuspecting and meek faculty and students with their cutlasses and Johnny Depp-esque smolder.
Unconfirmed reports state that the pirates — after bursting into a Hopkins classroom where BIOHOPK 198H: “Directed Instruction or Reading” was being taught — proceeded to tie the professor to a chair.
“I am the professor now,” said the leader of this band of brigands.
Several undergraduates then proceeded to, after raising their hands and being called on, question the pirate’s credentials.
“From where did you receive your Ph.D.,” one asked.
A fourth wanted to know if there would be any changes to the class’s grading policy. He was made to walk the plank.
When asked what she intended to do about the situation, Provost Persis Drell answered, “Shiver me timbers, we’re going to take it back, by golly,” as she pulled an eye patch and fake parrot from a Party City shopping bag. “We’ll show those bilge-rats what we’re made of! They’re sure to be dancing with Jack Ketch, as I intend to give neither quarter nor parley, ho!”
Indeed, students who were planning on studying at Hopkins over spring quarter were recently informed that, rather than taking the normal assortment of classes, they would immediately begin training as pirates.
“At first I was skeptical,” reported Matrick Ponreal, a sophomore who began the program early. “But I’m really enjoying my PIRATE 136: ‘Advanced Blunderbuss’ class. I’ve barely hung the jib since I started.”
When asked for comment, the pirates currently occupying Hopkins report that they’re ready for whatever offensive Drell can muster.
Editor’s Note: This article is purely satirical and fictitious. All attributions in this article are not genuine and this story should be read in the context of pure entertainment only.
Contact Benjamin Midler at bmidler ‘at’ stanford.edu.