"Engineers Crack Up, Seize Bert's Diner"



Several engineering students, enraged by overwhelming workloads and the near-total lack of women in their major, seized Bert's diner by force late Monday afternoon with an array of makeshift medieval weaponry.

"It was statics," said Justin Reese, a senior chemical engineering major. "That class, it just makes no sense! I couldn't understand a word my instructor was saying!"

University Police had originally intended to simply remove the engineering students using superior tactics and weapons. The engineers, however, challenged them to "fight fair" and called them "girly men," inciting the police to forge their own chain mail armor and pole arm weapons.

"We had wanted to just gas them out," said Lt. Mike Terrace, of SWAT. "But then they said that they could take us in a fair duel. We weren't having that. We're going to take these punks out, old fashioned-like."

The engineers created a catapult out of soda machines, a hollowed cash register, and the stainless steel platform students place their food on while waiting in line. They launched badly shaken bottles of Coca-Cola and Sprite, which exploded upon impact, keeping the police at bay.

"Man, you ever get soda on you? It's terrible," said Sgt. James Wroth. "Man, it gets sticky and you gotta use soap to wash it off. No thank you."

The engineers were proud of their primary weapon.

"Well, at least we have a degree with practical application," said Bob Ellison, a senior mechanical engineer. "Unlike some lame English or history major, who could never build this catapult."

While some engineers engaged the police in mortal combat, others decided to continue their differential equations homework.

"No way dude, I've got a full day of labs tomorrow," said Scott Stiller, a sophomore electrical engineering major. "Social revolution is one thing, diff-EQ is another. Poli-sci majors might be able to stand fast and decree what they believe in, but us engineers, we have to get our stuff done."

After a six-hour stalemate, the police finally began to gain the upper hand, utilizing their ranged weaponry advantage.

But the engineers would not fall without a fight. They had yet to play their trump card: a mammoth dosage of engineering reality for the police. They threw textbooks, lab manuals and even tuition bills at the officers.

Many of the officers recoiled in terror after gazing upon the required texts for some of the major engineering courses. One officer went into convulsions after encountering an inorganic chemistry textbook.

"I saw it and I could not look away," said detective John Stapos. "It didn't make any sense. The next thing I knew, I was twitching on the floor. Lord help these poor kids."

The cries of another officer rang out as he saw a tuition bill, complete with cost of living and textbooks.

"Even at a SUNY, it's like $10,000 a year!" said Lt. Jason Iorio. "I have two kids at that age and they want to go into engineering! Oh, my heart!"

Eventually, the engineers surrendered their stronghold. Once inside, police found patches of students copying homework from each other.

"That was about the last thing we expected," said Lt. Terrace. "We thought they might have assembled smaller resistance cells, which they kind of did. But these cells were only created to copy homework."

The students did not think this was surprising at all.

"What did you expect? You think you can really do all these equations in the week they give you?" said Reese. "We have to get through somehow, you know."