Monday has rolled around for Bryson, a sophomore studying management at Central Michigan University.

Bryson walks into his 3000 level english class and takes a seat close enough to the back of the class as to not draw attention to his laptop, where he will be fully displaying his fantasy roster moves throughout class. He flips open his Macbook Air and begins to look over his roster.

• QB: Patrick Mahomes
• RB: Sony Michel
• RB: Frank Gore
• WR: Michael Evans
• WR: Antonio Brown….

Bryson comes to realization that he has some housekeeping to tend to with his roster. He shifts his laptop screen so that Hannah, a junior Tri-Delt scrolling through Instagram in the very back row, can see that he clearly does not support abusers. After all, Bryson could’ve drafted Kareem Hunt in the second round but instead picked Patrick Mahomes out of solidarity. He’s done enough, but there is still work to be done.

After hovering his mouse over Antonio’s drop button for long enough for Hannah to see, Bryson feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up…. Out of his peripheral, he can see a dark shadow slide into the seat behind him. Trying not to draw attention to himself, Bryson turns slowly to get a better look at the dark matter. Upon turning, all he sees is a dark hoodie consuming the faint silhouette of a blonde mustache…. He’s here.

Bryson starts to shake from the tension in the air. His mouse is still hovering over AB’s drop button. He turns back to his computer screen and slams the screen shut.

Then Bryson hears a faint whisper from behind him:

“f*ck your knowledge bitch I been all pro before I even knew U! U hit me up online crying bitch I never hit you up ! Using God alias fake ass hoe u n ya momma thought y’all hoes fake.”

Bryson then runs out of class in a ball of tears. The blonded mustache silhouette slides back into the shadows of the classroom, where it can’t absorb any of the english composition knowledge being discussed in the class.