Sources Say 3: Privileged Quaker Bastard

 

They all gathered in a corner office on the administrative floor of the Humanities wing.  The privileged were instructed to stay away.  Forbidden, in fact.  Only the unprivileged could attend.  The people that have been given nothing, unknown or known. 

No dudes, of course, or anyone of middle age.  Straight folks were out, something about cisgender, whatever that is, owning people were out, too.  I scratched my head, now I was just curious, my gonzo instincts clicked in like a 100 watt bulb.  I was gonna get into this meeting, undercover if I had to, on the sly.  I had to invoke my probable Kickapoo blood, walk with a limp, and speak broken, girly English, but the suckers let me in the door.  Surprised they fell for my black braided wig, but they seemed really gullible and dumb, it was easy.

Almost blew my cover when I said we should start with a prayer, but I caught myself and clarified to start with a dare.  It was on!  The five young, poor, unprivileged women started flipping and flopping and groping and grabbing.  It was craziness, they planned a Hamas massacre celebration march for the next day.  I bolted quick, before the groping and grabbing, but sources say the ritualistic meeting got weirder and more sinister, evidently they even burned a picture of Johns Hopkins himself to close, that "privileged Quaker bastard!"