The statue of James McGall came to life on October 15 and interrupted the Small Council meeting of the Students Headquarters of McGall University (SHMU).
The bronze monstrosity came crashing through the south side windows of the Council chambers, screaming, “Halt ye! Fiends!”
“I come representing those whom you are about to unjustly condemn to a life of perpetual suffering,” McGall said.
Thoroughly confused, the Small Councillors looked through the hole in the window shards and saw that McGall wasn’t the only inanimate structure that had come to life. In fact, all the buildings, statues, and traffic signs on campus were marching toward SHMU, carrying picket signs and chanting, “Solidarity with private property!”
Hearing the chant, the Small Council let loose a collective “Oooh!” as Small Councillors were discussing a writ that would mandate SHMU to conscript students to wage war against “physical immovables.”
More precisely, the writ read: “Let it be known that all student citizens under the banner of the Students’ Headquarters of McGall University are hereby conscripted to wage war against the physical immovables on the territory that is currently occupied by the entity known as McGall University.”
“Listen for yourselves to the screams of these poor million-dollar buildings. These beauties of concrete and steel, of iron and plastic – can you not see how much harm it causes to put stickers on them?” McGall pleaded.
Abraham Kream, first of his name, King of SHMU, Lord of the Twelve Faculties, Protector of Social Justice, Lord Paramount of Arts, Eternal Sovereign of la Nouvelle Résidence, the Advisor on Matters of Social Responsibility, Interim Carer of the SHMU Babies, and most recently, Conqueror of Climate Change, declared that the writ reflected the collective will of his subjects.
“At least, that’s what my newest advisor has told me,” Kream said, motioning to a mysterious hooded figure, glowing ever so slightly with a purplish aura. The Weekly discovered that the secretive mage went by the name of D’emilia “Legion” Trize.
“We are Legion, for we are many,” Trize told Council. “Which means that we speak for all and we speak for none. Some call for vandalism, but all call for war against the physical immovables. We bring concerns, not our concerns, but all concerns. Which means they are concerns of no one.”
The moment McGall laid its dead eyes upon Trize, dark clouds swirled in the sky and a thunderbolt fell on the Meacock building, who was marching behind the Administration Palace. The poor ugly building died on the spot.
“Begone, ye fiends!” McGall bellowed, as a freezing gust of wind blew the laptops of Small Councillors and the papers of Librarian Extraordinaire Aaaron Sorbet like leaves. Then he pulled out a sword that was for hundreds of years cleverly disguised as a walking stick and lunged at Trize.
But before McGall could strike, Trize teleported themselves behind McGall, their hands glowing with purple flames. The flames glowed ever more brightly, and a massive explosion occurred, destroying everything within a 500-kilometre radius.
When the dust and smoke from the explosion settled, the only people left standing were Trize, McGall, Kream, and The Weekly’s newly self-proclaimed prime reporter Djemme Arrikan, who was still furiously taking notes in a black notebook.
Speaking to The Weekly, a horrified Kream said, “What the fuck is happening here?!”
“Look at all the destruction you made us cause!” Trize hissed at McGall. “If it weren’t for you, our war against the physical immovables would have been simple. It would have brought attention to our cause – the peaceful co-existence of all movables!”
“How dare they mock my cause?” a clearly offended McGall later told The Weekly. “Obviously, the wellbeing of statues and buildings is more important than that of people.”
At this point, clearly recognizing that there would be no reconciliation between Trize and McGall, Kream decided to intervene.
“Hold up, just one second,” he said. “Clearly, this much destruction benefits no one. You, McGall, need to stop your fight against movables, and you, Trize, need to stop being so mean toward immovables.”
Guilt-ridden, both McGall and Trize said, “Okay.”
Then, using their magic, Trize and McGall reversed time and rebuilt everything that had been destroyed. Finally, they decided to join their lives together in a civil union.
“We have both seen the error of our ways,” McGall said, looking lovingly at its partner, who decided to go by the name of D’emilia Trize McGall.
They lived happily ever after.