Big Pharma Stole the Last Twenty Credits I Need To Graduate

By Cam Hoff | Photo by Sadie S

A thought every Senior has had: 

I’ve been here way too damn long. I am going to die. Soon. 

A thought every member of Big Pharma has had: 

I need to turn the dying into cash cows. 

I never thought they would actually do it. I mean… approval from Big Pharma? To graduate!? It isn’t just. I can’t be a Super Senior anymore. I can’t keep dishing out money like I dish out my dick. I can’t plug every leaking hole with my girthy punisher. Money is draining out. Just like they… wanted. 

I was supposed to graduate in May 2019. No. I think it was 2017. I can’t keep track anymore. I only needed twenty more credits to graduate. I had to overload but that was fine, I’m smarter than you, I can do it. And I did it. I passed all five classes with flying colors. No, not just flying colors. Streaking colors. 

Thank God. I get to graduate, I thought to myself. But little did I know Big Pharma had recently just purchased every university in the world (capitalism, I know). 

Looking back, I know they could smell it on me. Smell the dank stench of desperation. Smell the salt coating my face from tears. Smell the snail trail of cum dried on the outside of my pants (I didn’t have any money for laundry and I was out of convenience points). All in all, they could smell the death of me. The specific mental death that comes from being a student. 

In late April 2019, no sorry 2017, I received an email stating that the new owners of the school, Big Pharma, recently reviewed my file and had decided that I did not meet the requirements for graduation and thus, I was to lose all the credits I had taken that semester.  

“For what!” I screamed into my laptop. The words etched themselves into an email without me even remembering writing them. Almost instantaneously I got a response, 

“Because you’re not on PREP” 

“Okay… if I get on PREP will I graduate?” 

“Yes!” 

“Okay… could I get some PREP to start.” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Okay… when and where should I pick it up.” 

“You can just go to the Student Health Center. Give me one second to check when it should be ready.” 

“Okay.” 

“Alright here it is. It’ll be ready in 2039.” 

“That’s in twenty (or twenty-two) years! I can’t wait that long to graduate!” 

“Well would you like to drop out?” 

“No! Obviously!” 

“Well, then you just have to wait.” 

I’ve been waiting for the last twenty-five years. I have yet to get a notification from Student Health Services saying that my prescription is ready for pickup. Everyday, I go to their center and ask if it’s ready. Every time they respond with, “No! You’ll get an email when it’s ready.” 

Please. I just need PREP. I’m not even fucking gay.