MAC FIELD - In the early hours of an otherwise typical morning, North Campus students awoke to a big surprise.

A giant 100-foot banner decorated with the words “FUCK OFF” stitched in a vertical elegance, hung from the top of Gates Tower to the ground. From the highest window of the tower stood President President “Otherwise Limits” Kington, MD, PhD, HTTP, wielding a megaphone.

“THAT’S RIGHT, THIS IS WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE,” he shouted, the sound waves reverberating throughout the entire 120 acres of campus and tearing down some antifa posters in their wake. Students covered their ears as they scurried even later and angrier than usual to their 8 AMs. “I’M SICK OF ALL YOU LITTLE SNOWFLAKES AND YOUR SOCIAL ACTIVISM THAT YOU’RE DOING COMPLETELY WRONG!” bellowed Kington, pacing to and fro within his brick tower.

Kington has continued to occupy Gates into this week and has decided to make himself at home, bringing in a retinue of secret-service personnel, Dining Hall chefs, a chunk of the Bear fitness center, a cable installation crew, and a puppy. His request for a personal GUM visual/audio biographer was apparently denied. All the while, he continued to shout into his megaphone, leading protest chants alongside him, himself and he.

Soon, however, President Kington’s voice grew hoarse after yelling “@ ME NEXT TIME, LEO!” for an hour straight. In the midst of chucking his megaphone at observing students, where it created an endowment-sized crater, he defaulted to his signature method of communication: Campus Memos.

“Students have nothing better to do than protest injustice. SAD!” he wrote in one. In another memo, Kington declared: “Re-naming this tower King Tower, because it is mine now.”

Kington was unavailable for comment, as Campus Memos only travel in one direction and thus leave no way for discourse between students and administration to flow in a constructive manner, or for anyone else in the Grinnell Community to make their opinions known equally as instantaneously.

Residents of Gates King Hall and surrounding dorms, as well as everyone else in the general Grinnell populace, have responded to the new presence of the President in an overall disgruntled tone.

“A lot of times, especially late at night, it’s hard to concentrate on homework,” said Lyle Rose ’17, a resident of King 2nd. “You just hear lots of crashing noises mixed in with him yelling ‘IF WE DON’T GET IT, SHUT IT DOWN.’ Shut what down? And is he using the ‘Royal We’?”

“It does sound like a rager is going on up there,” agreed their roommate, Sara Diaz ’18. “It sounded like it could be fun, but I think I heard him play Adele’s 25 before Lemonade, so we can’t be friends.”

The displaced former residents of the tower, however, have a slightly different outlook. Now that they have effectively swapped places with Kington, they reside in Nollen House. “It’s awesome!” said Jean Samuels ’19. “We have dinner with Angela Voos all the time, and even though the lights never turn off and we all sleep in sleeping bags, at least we get to feel sort of presidential.”