In a dramatic showdown reminiscent of a medieval jousting tournament, Ye Olde College recently found itself embroiled in a battle of wits between zealous student advocates and the imposing Bureaucratic Beast. No knights or noble steeds were harmed in the making of this story, but plenty of red tape was shredded. The tale began when an army of passionate students, armed with little more than a handful of pamphlets and an unyielding sense of purpose, decided to challenge the college's infamous Yield Policy, which dictated the distribution of allocated funds for extracurricular activities. Instead of triumphantly awarding money to campus initiatives, the policy led to a mysterious phenomena known as "Those Who Seek Sought and Yet Were Sourly Disappointed." Rallying under the banner of the “Official Society of Fund Recipients for Dreamers” (OSFRD, pronounced like “osfarad”), students donned brightly colored T-shirts emblazoned with slogans like, “Taxation Without Representation is a Bad Vibe!” and “Let Us Live, Bureaucratic Beast!” With the fervor of a thousand online petitions, they marched toward the administrative fortress on a Wednesday morning— the holiest of days, as it was known to be when the Beast was least likely to be napping. As they approached, the students encountered the first obstacle: the enchanted Gates of Scheduling. These time-consuming portals were designed by the Bureaucratic Beast to ensnare even the most dedicated of advocates. As each student approached, the gates surrounded them in an inescapable haze of red tape and “please fill out forms in triplicate” green bureaucracy. Undeterred, the OSFRD invoked the magic words—“We’re just trying to get some funding!”—and proceeded to gesticulate wildly until the gates reluctantly swung open, granting passage. Upon entering the heart of the administrative lair, a labyrinthine office filled with paper mountains, outdated technology, and the unmistakable scent of cold coffee, they found the Beast itself: a rotund figure clad in a moth-eaten sweater, glasses perched precariously on a nose that resembled an overripe pear. “Welcome, young advocates,” the Beast bellowed, voice echoing like the sigh of a thousand denied funding requests. “How may I interest you in my collection of ancient forms and policies that have not seen sunlight since the last Ice Age?” “Great and powerful Bureaucratic Beast,” the students chorused, “we beseech thee to illuminate the path to our funding! We promise to fill out all necessary forms... in just triplicate!” With a twinkle of what may have been amusement—or perhaps just a particularly strong gleam from the fluorescent lights—the Beast raised its wand (just kidding, it was a stapler). “You may submit your requests, but beware! They shall enter the Queue of Eternal Review! And once you are in, you may never return!” Faced with the prospect of infinite waiting, the intrepid advocates strategized. In an unprecedented move, they pooled their funds for the much-feared Third Coffee Break. Legend has it that the mere offer of caffeine is enough to sway the Bureaucratic Beast, rendering it temporarily compliant and perhaps even friendly. The Counter-Offensive was swift. Armed with artisanal coffee and a box of assorted pastries, the students convinced the cuddly beast to set aside its ancient scrolls—if only for a “brief consultation.” The aroma of caffeine wafted through the office, luring legendary forms from their dusty tombs for immediate processing. As the sun set on Ye Olde College, the students emerged victorious, clutching envelopes stamped with a rare, glittering seal: “Approved.” Campaign slogans were replaced by gleeful chants: “Caffeine for Change!” “Long Live the OSFRD!” And, most importantly, the realization set in: No matter how mighty the Bureaucratic Beast may seem, with enough caffeinated enthusiasm, even the most bureaucratic of systems can be navigated—albeit with some snarky side comments and an absurd amount of paperwork. And so, Ye Olde College learned that challenges may come in many forms, but nothing’s tougher to conquer than an obstinate bureaucracy with more layers than a medieval pastry. Will the advocates return for another spring fling with funding? Only time—and next year’s yield—will tell.