“Please, I beg you! Take them! Spare us! Please!” cried out a desperate Paxson, suddenly inclined to shackle the performers herself. “I can’t take it anymore with these fucking Arch Sings. Can’t I walk through Faunce Arch for one day without being obstructed by 15 boys in top hats harmonizing to Chappell Roan? It’s a clear violation of University policy.”

“What do you mean they’re not who you came for? You’re already here—what’s an extra few people?” questioned Paxson, closely inspecting ICE’s detention vehicle to see how many members of Brown’s intergalactic a cappella community could squeeze inside. “These people—they’re dangerous and a real nuisance. A disgrace on our entire community and a tarnish on our institution’s name. Especially those Jabber-the-fucks. And don’t get me started on the pirates. About time they finally walk the plank.”

At press time, the a cappella members resisted the ICE raid by snapping their fingers in violent, repulsive unison.