Chalmers is open. The mods remain. Locked, cavernous, silent. They are Kenyon’s Fort Knox, and we must ask what is hidden within. According to the Thrill’s best investigative journalists, the answer to the secret lies in Kenyon’s over-enrollment. It seems they bit off more than they could educate. So they did what we all do with our leftovers.

You’d think administration could’ve manufactured a better cover story. After all, Denmark is consistently ranked the second happiest country in the world. No wonder! The homeland of LEGO, named after an unambiguously excellent pastry, and populated by 5.8 million merry bicyclists who (thanks to Denmark being the 4th flattest place on earth) aren’t burdened with the notion of uphill. Even if this school shelled out its entire endowment, we could not persuade Denmark to allow a single Kenyon student across the borders. We are, more often than not, disproportionately affluent, disproportionately American faux-adults who—despite our supposed intellectual rigor, global-mindedness, and empathetic capacity—treat overcooked vegetables and an admittedly zealous excess of K-SWOC posters as mortal assaults upon our sense of self. Sorry kids. Denmark doesn’t want you.

They could’ve just said they were sending us to France.

Then where did these few dozen first-years go? After taking off from John Glenn International Airport, bound for a connecting flight out of JFK to Copenhagen, their flight deviated from its manifest and landed on a commandeered, unregistered private airfield a two hour drive west of Mt. Vernon. The students disembarked. Most of them were too occupied downloading Google Translate or Babble on their thinly stretched cellular data to dodge the syringe of diluted horse tranquilizer that the campo officer plugged into their necks. Now they are, each and every one of them, frozen in SpaceWorks Enterprises’ cryogenic sleep chambers. In the mods. Blue in the face. Waiting to be defrosted at the start of their sophomore year—woken from their dreams of glorious Denmark and the LEGO-paved streets of Copenhagen—at which point they will be informed by the registrar that they fulfilled all their diversification requirements while studying abroad.