EXPOSED What REALLY Goes on at the TWUSA Retreat

Bailey Froese

TWUSA. What is it really? You think it’s actually the Trinity Western University Student’s Association? Please. You have been utterly deceived. I should know—I have first-hand experience with this so-called “student government” that gives out “free coffee” and hosts “events” and plays “music” in a study lounge. Back in February, the Mars’ Hill team was invited on a retreat with this clandestine club at an Airbnb in Abbotsford. The only ones who showed up were me, Seth, and Tomiwa. Tomiwa proved most valuable on this trip; being the photographer, he was able to capture hard evidence on his high-quality camera. Unfortunately, this camera fell in the pool during the weekend, but I have plenty of hearsay and speculation to back up my claims. This is the TRUTH about TWUSA.

1. You won’t believe where the printer money goes. As we sat to dine on the first evening, President Andrew Bouchard stood as if to lead us all in prayer. He did no such thing and instead hauled a sack from under his chair and plopped it on the table. Everyone gazed upon it in a long, reverent silence. Finally, Andrew proclaimed, “Now, we feast.” The sack was opened, spilling dozens of dimes and nickels and loonies on the table. The TWUSA team howled like wild beasts and dove for the coins, chewing and swallowing them in ecstasy. Us three humble journalists gaped in horror, waiting for the real food to be served, but there was none. “Tastes like pork,” one member mumbled, referencing the piggy bank from whence the money came.

2. TWUSA’s basement of secrets. I was bewildered to learn that below the TWUSA lounge desk, beneath the computer on which Spotify dwells, there is a secret passageway to the deep, dark TWUSA basement. Horrors beyond comprehension and beyond what is appropriate to publish in a student newspaper lurk within. Remember in Star Wars: Return Of The Jedi (1983) when Luke Skywalker got dumped into the pit with the rancor (the big lumpy thing with claws)? TWUSA has a similar monster in its lair named TWUGSA. TWUGSA eats anyone deemed unsuitable for existence by TWUSA members. If you ever hear about a TWUGSA meeting or event, that’s code for “let’s go watch and cheer as the pitiful plebeian is devoured alive by TWUGSA.” If you think you’ve been to a TWUGSA event where that didn’t happen, no, you didn’t. TWUSA has many methods of erasing memories, many of which also live in the basement.

3. Nothing is real. At midnight, as we all lounged in the tiny indoor hot tub at the Airbnb, Jeremy Joosten lifted himself from Ben Zubaly’s lap and made a startling confession: he is not really Jeremy Joosten. His real name is Olivia Corps. Then Olivia Corps confessed that her true identity is Ella Throness. Then Ella Throness confessed that she is really Kelsy Bentz, and Kelsy Bentz revealed himself to be Audrey Tupaj, and Audrey Tupaj said she is actually Raj Kamal, and . . .

4. The coffee isn’t actually free. “Of course it isn’t,” you might say. “The cost comes out of our tuition.” Oh, sweet, innocent little lamb, if only that were true. You will eventually pay with your own bodies. Fifteen years after you graduate, TWUSA will come knocking at your door, coming to claim your firstborn child. If you don’t have a firstborn child, they will take your pets. If you don’t have a pet, they will infest your living space with genetically enhanced termite-rats that will demolish your house and nibble your toes. If you don’t have a living space, well . . . that sucks. They might take your shirt if you have a cool shirt.

5. TWUSA has big plans for Mars’ Hill next year. Since Mars’ Hill is under the TWUSA umbrella, we are at the mercy of this indomitable institution, and the Joosten administration plans to use every ounce of this power. Next year, the name will be changed to Venus’ Mound, the Sports section will be replaced by a Home and Garden section, everything will be written in the Lobster font, every issue must have at least one article about the Great Molasses Flood of 1919, and all students must give little forehead kisses to the Humour Editor or face expulsion. Only you can defeat the powers that be with democracy. Or, you know, don’t. I actually like a couple of the changes. I mean, I’m certainly not opposed to one or two of them. That’s just my opinion, just some food for thought. It’s up to you, of course, but . . . I dunno, they have some good ideas.