Spooky: BC Bookstore Sale Offering 20% Off Your Life Expectancy
MCELROY COMMONS — In an effort to attract students with nowhere to go and money to burn, the Boston College Bookstore recently launched a blitz of email marketing campaigns, using outrageous flash sales to stimulate interest.
Due to the cancellation of live events, namely football, the BC Bookstore’s retail revenue has dropped to new lows this fall semester. “Every year I look forward to a fresh crop of Superfans and the goofy shirts they all get. Without the football season, though, we haven’t sold any more than a dozen of them, so things have gotten really desperate, really fast,” said Bart Coleman, one of the bookstore’s managers and the idea man behind the new slew of sales.
Though numerous attempts have been made to draw in students with discounts on merchandise and catchy phrases like “homegating” accompanied by pictures of pumpkins and large block letters reading “FALL25,” they have continually produced disappointing results.
With the announcement of the Bookstore’s latest campaign, however, students can now get 20% taken off their life expectancy by first being cursed by a Jesuit and then playing a round of Russian roulette with an on-site volunteer from CAB. The sale has reportedly been incredibly successful, with more than a third of the senior class taking advantage of the event within its first week.
Jake Kunish (CSOM ’21) couldn’t believe the unbelievable offer when he read the email. “Normally they just have discounts on stupid things like fuzzy hats, but this is the deal of a lifetime! My degree is setting me up for 45 years at an unfulfilling desk job in corporate hell, so if I can shave a little bit off that now, why the hell wouldn’t I?”
Abby Kalitzy (MCAS ’23) expressed similar enthusiasm. “As the kind Jesuit began to chant his ancient curse, my eyes rolled back and I saw the face of God, and He was I. I fell backwards out of this mortal coil of space and time and I saw the emptiness at the center of the universe. I spoke with the voice of the wind, and heard the whispers of cosmic rain as a comet trailed past, its lonely tail stretching a million miles into the void. I felt a phantasm of my mother’s being beckoning me, like a tether to this corporeal realm, and as she called me back from the darkness, she whispered, ‘Get your father and I “BC Mom and Dad” fleece jackets, sweetie.’”
When asked about safety concerns regarding potential casualties during the Russian roulette portion of the fire sale, Coleman had no comment but was spotted later that day begging for students to fill what he called “newly vacated CAB positions.”