So the chief gave me an assignment: Find out why it is so damn hot on campus. I wondered, why me? It’s not as if I’m especially adept in dealing with such things as “facts” and “journalistic integrity.” I’m a wildcard, a cannon looser than the hinges on James Gandolfini’s refrigerator door. So the fact that he chose me over the other, much better writers we employ led me to but one conclusion… I was the only one he could trust. I reasoned that behind the sweat-inducing, tongue-chapping sensation of pure heat one feels upon entering any given classroom on campus, there must surely be some vast conspiracy. And since I believe myself to be a reasonable man, I knew I was right. Clearly, the true story behind the University’s energy policy runs deeper than a hole to China. And like a blind judge at an ass-shaking contest, I was determined to grope the bottom.

So I hit the ground running like a guy who loves running and hates ground. If my metaphors were weak, it’s only because my drive for the truth was so strong. But there were roadblocks everywhere. Even where there weren’t roads. This is going to be harder than I thought, I thought. For every lead I followed, I found twice as many confused responses. I vividly remember the encounter I had with a woman from Facilities named Avis Bertoli who requested to remain anonymous. Said request was not granted. It went down like this:

Avis Bertoli: “Hi, what can I help you wit---”
Adam Barber: “DAMMIT, WOMAN! I NEED ANSWERS!”
AB: “Umm… so what can I---”
AB: “The heat. HOT HEAT! What’s the deal? RESPOND!”
AB: “…”AB: “RESPOND BETTER!”
AB: “Uh, so are you talking about the campus energy usage? Are you with that other guy?”
AB: “There’s another guy?”
AB: “Yeah, the guy with the beard who was just in here asking questions about the University’s energy policy. Said he was writing an article…”

But I had already fled the scene. Someone was on to me, and he was close. So close that he knew everything I was going to do, and did it first. I had no time to waste, not even on coming up with a better way to differentiate between the two parties in the above interview. I went to the administrative offices, to the sustainability center, and even to the king of the custodians, but the bearded guy had been there first. This guy was good.

Luckily I was better. Outside the Stott Center, I found a source disguised as a homeless man. He would only speak on conditions of strict anonymity, asking to be called Mr. X. Because he looked like a smaller, skinnier, uglier Vin Diesel, I suggested XXX. We compromised. Between puffs of an imaginary cigarette, Mr. XX leaned in close, dropping a barrage of fact-bombs that would blow this case open wider than mach-five cleavage. “The wrestling room,” he said. “It’s the only place on campus where they can control their own heat.” So the wrestling team was behind everything. It made perfect sense. With a little help from Google, I managed to piece together the truth. Here’s how it plays out:

Due to their lacking academic and competitive edge, the wrestling program was axed last year, and the team relegated to the dreaded “club sport” status. But they still had their wrestling room, and control of their own heat. Through some devious effect of wizardry, they have been steadily increasing the heat in campus class rooms to render the rest of the student body sluggish and somnolent, whilst they have been rigorously conditioning themselves to stand the heat. Their plan was to turn us into mindless drones, unable to stop their coup. They were planning to hold the University hostage until their program was reinstated. But they didn’t count on one thing: me, baby. Case solved.

So I killed Mr. XX, as per the strictness of his anonymity clause, and buried the body in an unmarked grave on campus. I think his family would understand. As for me, I’m going into hiding for a little while. I want to be long gone when this story leaks. Because that bearded guy is still out there, and he isn’t going to be happy that I beat him. So the chief gave me an assignment: Find out why it is so damn hot on campus. I wondered,