“Mannequinning,” as students like to call it, is a new way of skipping class. It involves dressing a full size mannequin in day clothes and having it attend all virtual lessons. The trend began in late March, and since then, virtual classrooms have looked more like the back rooms of department stores.

Thousands of professors and teachers across the country are now realizing, almost a month after the end of the term, that they had been teaching inanimate objects for the previous three months. It is not the fact that students are “playing hooky” that surprises teachers, but rather the manner in which students are deciding to do so. Why mannequins? 

“I mannequinned my way through all of my classes. My professors barely noticed I was missing, and I haven’t read a single word in almost 90 days,” incoming sophomore Grace Milton ’23, who coincidentally can no longer spell the word sophomore, said.

The trend has evolved to become more accessible for students. Those that may not have full-size mannequins may substitute them for bags of flour, burlap sacks and even the odd aimless parent. 

Students have also become more creative in the outfits they provide for their stunt doubles, fashioning them in blazers and ties, and occasionally even full faces of makeup.

“It started as an easy way to get out of class, but I realized that I really enjoyed dressing up my mannequin,” full-time student Jeremy Beckman ’22 said. “I actually decided to switch my major from business to fashion design.”

Professor Ed Brown of the California School of Higher Learning was one of the first to realize the emergence of the trend when he watched back the footage of his lectures. The further he got in the recording, the more he realized that none of his students were moving.

“It was eerie,” Brown said. “I could see all of them clear as day, but they looked frozen — like little blocks of ice with student debts.”

He reached out to his fellow professors and found that his colleagues were observing the same oddly still students. Brown quickly realized that the students had been taking advantage of him and other faculty for several months.

Looking more closely at the videos, he began to notice that the features staring back at him were plastic rather than flesh and blood.

“I definitely expected a couple of students to nod off in class, but I never thought I would see their heads roll off their necks,” Brown said.

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 Prithi Srinivasan at 22psrinivasan ‘at’ pinewood.edu.