Laundry Is for Losers

Issue 6, Volume 113

By Daniella Solomon 

The Stuyvesant Environmental Club has recently forced yet another Earth-saving change on the student body. Last week, they scattered a few classrooms with soil and fertilizer so we can “grow” as students and “branch out” (as if we need to have social lives!). This week, Stuy’s tree-huggers decided that they wanted to be even closer to nature. This meant the inevitable—they were cutting off their use of “unnecessary” water altogether.

When asked what they counted as unnecessary, a member of the Environmental Club named Fertee Lizer answered enthusiastically, “Oh, you know, just stuff like showering, doing laundry, you get the gist. Who needs all that when you can just wash yourself with rain? It’s nature’s tears!” Upon news of this change, the Student Union (SU) frantically searched the Stuyble (The Stuy Bible. You haven’t heard of it?) for a verse that could guide them through this impending pain but found nothing.

After praying amply to no avail, they decided to alert Principal Yu, who fell to his knees, sobbing, “B-but they don’t even wear deodorant to begin with!” The Environmental Club, oblivious to the scanner ladies who had just fainted as they walked by, came to thank Principal Yu for funding their swanky new recycling bins. However, as soon as their sick scent reached his nostrils, he tumbled to the floor, unresponsive.

“Principal Yu! I’m sorry that we didn’t give you that compost bin we promised, but are you really that upset about it?” a member asked, panic-stricken.

“We promise we’ll buy you one for Christmas!” piped up another, but there was no response.

“It’ll have Jimin on it! Come on, Principal Yu!” they chorused. But their efforts were in vain—even the mention of his favorite BTS member couldn’t awaken him. Someone finally had the sense to call a team of odor removal specialists, who arrived prepared in full hazmat suits with oxygen tanks. They worked for hours, spraying enough Febreze to make even the seventh-floor bathrooms smell acceptable, but it wasn’t enough.

The odor removal manager quickly scheduled a meeting with the SU in order to discuss how to rid Principal Yu’s office of its repulsive aroma. Together, they reasoned that the Environmental Club itself was not the problem—this was not your average haven’t-showered-or-changed-for-three-days kind of scent. This could only have come from a gym uniform. And who wears a gym uniform 24/7? You guessed it: a freshman. As it turned out, they were the only students who were submissive enough to adopt the Environmental Club’s new system. When asked to comment on why they made this choice, freshman Vanessa Reesykle responded, “They told me that they’d teach me how to avoid freshie hunting traps in return! They even offered to send a mediator to talk to my Art App teacher for me because my Met project has been ‘lost’ for three weeks now!”

One thing was clear: To resolve the smell and awaken Principal Yu from his stench-induced trance, we had to force the Environmental Club to lift their policy and stop bribing freshmen. However, upon being confronted by the SU, they threw their reusable water bottles in retaliation before they could get in a word. Next, even as their enemies were retreating, they began to sock a week’s worth of compost at them until the poor SU was covered head-to-toe in bean burritos, weird watery pasta, and misshapen corn kernels.

At this point, the students of the SU were willing to surrender their cause, even if it meant fainting every time a freshman walked by and making nearby students think that they were swooning out of pure adoration. But the Environmental Club had to drive their point home and ensure that nobody would try to get in the way of their plans again. A separate battle squadron of club members invaded the seventh floor, shaking out the dirt from the potted plants and spreading it all across the ground.

“Mwhaha!” they cackled. “We’re turning the whole seventh floor into a garden! Bring out the seed pods!”

“DID I HEAR THE WORD AIRPODS?” Mr. Moran’s head popped out from behind a wall.

“Just seed pods, Mr. Moran,” they chorused submissively.

“Oh, sorry.” He disappeared back into his corner with a look of intense disappointment on his face.

“Bring out the SU!” exclaimed Environmental Club leader Ima Leaf.

Out the SU came, frog-marched in by Environmental Club members and still covered in a magnificent layer of compost.

“We were thinking of scraping the compost off you before we used it, but we figured it was too much work. So, you all now have the honor of fertilizing our first full-floor garden! Try to sit very still, or the food won’t decompose properly,” Leaf snapped.

So, when you see a beautiful garden of tulips or some *air-quality enhancing* trees on the seventh floor, thank your dear SU for sitting there while last Friday’s “veggie surprise” dripped off of them in clumps of varied size. According to Ms. Leaf, “It’s definitely worth it.”