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Loan out your life

Rumplestiltskin: fairy tale villain or student saviour?

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Photo curtesy of Fine Arts America

Written by: Gabrielle McLaren, Features Editor

“Hello dearie.” A goblin simpers at you from behind a counter constructed from bones. You’ve travelled too far into the bank to turn back now.

The goblin’s smile tightens, like a noose around your neck.

“You need something desperately, don’t you?”

Too nervous to talk, you simply nod, knowing instinctively this goblin before you is none other than Rumpelstiltskin. Innocent as he looks, you know that he has destroyed countless lives and dreams and could, with a snap of his fingers, shatter every bone in your body.

“Everyone does,” he says. “The question is, can you pay for what I provide? Come forth, mortal undergrad.”

You approach the counter. Thankfully, you have given enough oral presentations to look convincingly unafraid. Once you are close enough to see, Rumplestiltskin slides a piece of parchment forwards.

 

Good in question Cost
A thesis statement that makes sense for the essay you procrastinated on. Your voice in a seashell, in exchange for your voice as a writer.
Regaining your first-year GPA All your clothes will transform back into the first-day-of-school outfit you wore in first year.  
A restful full night of sleep without your usual stress dreams Your happiest memory, bottled in a glass vial and sealed with wax.
An extension for a project. I will send a small delegation of trolls to murder your entire family in order to craft a sob-story your professor may buy.
A healthy diet with full servings of fruits and vegetables. One time, I’ll put human flesh in your meal preparation and you won’t know when but you’ll live with the knowledge that you’ve cannibalized.
A single fuck. You will lose all other passions in replace of the one thing you needed to care about.
An invisibility spell so that your professor doesn’t zone in on you in lecture to ask questions. A letter describing in detail the Tinder account you made when you got lonely in first year that may or may not be mailed to your mother, should you ever displease me.
Affordable rent for living quarters larger than a single bedroom. Your roommate will literally be a serial killer and you can only live there as long as you survive. Additionally, the bathroom will only be accessible between the hours of 4:30 a.m. and 6:27 a.m. There may be boggarts.  
Ridding both your hands of their budding carpal tunnel syndrome. Next semester, all of your profs have a no-laptops-in-class policy.

Note: I can also fix your posture and back pain, but then your classes will also be in Robert C Brown hall instead of a healthy learning environment.

A competent TA. If I find one, you have to pay them a fair wage and also their MA tuition.

 

You can’t make out the rest of the parchment as it is blood-stained.

“Well dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin asks.

“The thing I want isn’t on here,” you confess. “I just have no idea how to handle my workload and it’s week 10 so I’m exhausted and then there’s this girl I went to high school with who just had a baby that I saw on Facebook and it’s super cute and I don’t understand how she has her life together because I ate Cheetos out of the bag over the sink for breakfast like a rat and I’m not even sure I want this degree anymore and I just want to feel validated, you know?”

Rumpelstiltskin laughs.

“Oh, dearie. Even magic has its limits. Now get the fuck out, your pale ass is scaring away my other clients.”

A trap door opens under your feet and you fall, just like your GPA.  

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