In a startling new development, SUSU the Cat has decided to stand for Union President in the election. Using an intrepid Pause reporter as a hapless mouthpiece, she delivers her manifesto for Southampton.
Students of Southampton!
For years I have watched from the sidelines, your antics and frivolous life. But no longer. For no matter how terrible my manifesto is, I am sure to win the union presidency. Why, you ask? Because for everyone who takes an interest in union politics and will pretend to make an informed decision on their voting, there are five jokers who would sell their Gold Cards just so we could have me, a cat, as president. Hell, they’d probably sell their kidneys to pay for a statue of yours truly on the bit between the Stags and the union building.
The offerings of left-overs made by you puny humans are simply not enough. Once a year, one first year student from each department will be dumped on the Isle of Wight with nothing but a cat onesie and a rubber band to use for bribery or survival purposes. The last one to make it into Jester’s will be sacrificed to appease the Gods of Catdom.
Furthermore, I demand that SUSU continues the business plan of becoming a restaurant chain that happens to be on a campus. This will greatly increase my dining and that of my cat friends, given that all the mice have been mercilessly purged from campus. I particularly enjoy Indian cuisine, so I expect that Manzil’s will open a new branch on Highfield. If not, they shall feel and fear my wrath. Seriously.
There are no tunes in Southampton quite as banging as those piped thorough the SUSU shop, I will ensure that whoever it is that sets the truly excellent playlists has their music played all over campus. None shall be able to escape the classical hits. Indeed, the dulcet tones of The Proclaimers will herald a new era of Southampton University under the new regime.
Catnip shall be legalised on university premises and sold via the SUSU shop for 80p a piece. I’m not entirely sure how the human race, inferior as they are, will be able to get their jollies from my drug of choice, but there must be someone willing to do it for a dare on some social media site or another.
And for what I am told is the jumping-off point for all manner of depraved nights out, the Stag’s, major changes are afoot. That unnecessary apostrophe has seen the end of its days. It will be removed from the sign and ritually burnt on Avenue Campus by a crowd of braying English students. This will happen no earlier than 3pm to ensure they have adequate time to actually get out of bed.
The sort of students who like cats enough to vote for one tend to mooch around on Avenue Campus. Many of these poor linguists, historians, philosophers, etc, find exiting their homes a deeply upsetting and traumatic experience suffered twice a week. In order to smooth the transition between their beds and their bi-weekly lectures, I will fund earl grey tea, dressing gowns and Netflix to be made available on Avenue free of charge to these poor lost souls. Naturally I demand their undying loyalty for such generosity. I will accept applications in writing from the Engineering faculty for Dungeons and Dragons sets should this be required by them.
Frankly, given the other candidates, you have no choice other than to submit to my benevolent rule of the Felinocracy. Perhaps I should come up with a suitable new name for my new role. Chairman Meow perhaps?
I think it’s time for some milk and my next 16 hour nap.