Historians have long debated the founding of The Montclarion in 1928. Was it aliens from another planet? Was it the Federal Bureau of Investigation posing as a college newspaper to spy? For years, people wondered who founded our beloved newspaper, until now.
The year was 1928.
Two young men, Melvin Mont and Clint Clarion, were laying on the grass in the quad with their arms wrapped around one another, as roommates do. Their noses were just centimeters from touching and their lips closer than the width of a blade of grass.
The two roommates laid there for hours, soaking in the sun and holding each other like that really famous picture of the skeletons of those two roommates after the volcano erupted in Pompeii.
Mont abruptly sits up and looks over at the students gathered around the Student Center.
“What’s wrong, lover,” Clarion asked, calling him a funny nickname like roommates do.
“I’m not sure, darling,” Mont said and began to walk toward the crowd of students.
A bunch of students were standing in a circle formation, making loud noises and shouting various chants.
Mont pushed back students to see what was going on.
In the center of the ring, two rats were going at it over a block of cheese, because everyone knows rats love cheese.
Mont’s mouth was agape. This was exhilarating. He felt a surge of energy run through his veins like when you drink a Monster energy drink and you immediately have to pee.
Mont scurried back to his roommate that he left on the grass.
“You’ll never believe this! There was this rat fighting this other rat and they-“
“Woah woah woah,” Clarion said. “You’re talking too fast I can’t understand a word you’re saying! Here, take this pad and paper and write down everything that happened and get quotes from students with pictures, names, majors and their graduating years.” Clarion handed him the materials.
Mont set off and returned with an approximately 650-word piece on the two rats fighting over the cheese.
Clarion read the piece and finally understood what Mont was blabbing about.
“More people should be reading this,” Clarion, a sophomore business major, said.
A light bulb appeared over Mont’s head, unclear the physics of that but rest assured it did happen because this is a historical piece, and the light turned on.
Mont, a junior English major, went to the library basement where the constantly defunded graphic design department operates. There, he was able to print multiple copies of his stories, the one with the rats fighting.
Mont’s story was a success on campus. The two roommates decided that reporting on-campus events and opinion articles about movies was their duty and life’s passion.
They recruited a variety of journalists to help expand their newspaper beyond rat fights in front of the Student Center. However, the two experienced some ups and a lot of downs after the success of the newspaper, The Montclarion.
For reasons once unknown to the public, the two roommates separated their twin beds in Blanton and were no longer on speaking terms. Shortly after, Clarion packed up his things and left.
It was now revealed that Mont was also being roommates with another student, William Marcus Steven Carlen, widely known by his nickname WMSC.
Oh, how Clarion loathed WMSC. He could not believe that Mont would even dare be roommates with him on the side.
The two parted ways and refused to speak to one another, but The Montclarion continued.
About 20 years later the two happened to bump into one another on the quad, where they first met in 1927.
A single tear rolled down Clarion’s face as he saw Mont with WMSC, Mont’s permanent roommate.
Mont saw Clarion from across the grass and headed over. The two began to have a heated exchange.
What was said in the beginning was unknown, but thanks to the stellar reporting of The Montclarion staff, they managed to get a quote from Clarion.
“Tell you what, we could’ve had a good life together! F–kin’ real good life! Had us a place of our own. But you didn’t want it, Mont! So what we got now is The Montclarion,” Clarion said. “Everything’s built on that! That’s all we got, boy, f–kin’ all. So I hope you know that even if you don’t never know the rest! You count the few times that we have been together in nearly 20 years and you measure the short f–kin’ leash you keep me on – and then you ask me about Mexico and you tell me you’ll kill me for needing somethin’ that I don’t hardly never get. You have no idea how bad it gets! And I’m not you – I can’t make it on a coupla high-altitude f–ks once or twice a year! You are too much for me, Mont, you sonofaw—-son b-tch! I wish I knew how to quit you.”
Clarion stormed off full of rage. Mont stood still, tears rolling down his eyes.
Mont looked back at his roommate WMSC, and back at Clarion. He knew they could never be roommates again, not after all that happened.
Mont walked shamefully back to WMSC and the two never spoke again.
While the two never made up, The Montclarion continues to thrive and serve as the voice of the student body.