Ballutay | I’m better than you

March 31, 2025, 10:46 p.m.

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.

About a month ago, I was made aware of Mr. Devin Abrahams’ intent to submit an opinion article to this institution. Given the insecurities that I activate in him, I deduced that he planned to write about me. Against what will no doubt the AI-generated grandstanding slop that he calls “opinion writing,” I find myself compelled to respond. Therefore I direct the next portion of my writing to Mr. Abrahams, although I suspect that it applies to you, too:

I’m better than you.

Without further ado, let me break it down for you. Absolutely, axiomatically, empirically, indubitably, irrefutably and tautologically, I am better than you. I am not exaggerating. You know how I know? My mommy said so. And I bet your mommy tells you that, too, but my mommy doesn’t have to cross her fingers when she says it. 

Let’s put it this way. I am crystal methamphetamine and you are a saltine cracker. (Not racially, though. I’m that much better than you that I need not stoop to racism.) I am Freddie Mercury and you are a SoundCloud rapper sampling the sounds of Crungeon roaches. I am a raging dragon snorting methane into the atmosphere, and you are a whimpering groundhog checking its shadow to see if it’s still winter. I am East Campus and you are West Campus. I am rock and you are scissors. I am scissors and you are paper. I am paper and you are rock. I rock and I would never let you scissor me.

Jenny is the Vol. 270 Humor Managing Editor. When she’s not making the news, she’s faking the news. Alright, you’re dismissed.

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