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Kevin Kaplan '10 stands tall and proud in front of his full-length mirror, staring himself resolutely in the eye. His graduation cap is crisp, his robe is fluid, and his bright red spandex unitard is blinding. Yes, Kaplan is clad in a unitard. Is he going through an identity crisis? Does he like the squeeze in all the right places? No, Kevin Kaplan is a super senior.
In Kaplan's mere five and a half semesters at Brown, he has seemingly achieved the impossible. He once received an A+ in a pass-fail class. He is currently triple concentrating, has completed a quadruple Sciences Library challenge, can wear skinny jeans and still look manly, and according to legend, once managed to sexile himself.
"'Super' is the only word I can use to describe this kid," stated Tim Wu '09, his freshman roommate, "Seriously, I heard Chuck Norris makes Kevin Kaplan jokes. Too bad he's going to feel super lame once he graduates."
Kaplan, however, does not seem concerned about losing his title of Super Senior upon graduating this May. "Nay," he belts out in a low, masculine tone, dramatic music crescendoing in the background, "I plan on extending it. The super, not the senior part - by taking it to the streets and kicking some serious bad-guy ass." Narrowing his eyes, he adds: "And then getting some."
Much like 99% of Brown University's graduating seniors, Kaplan plans to work for a meager wage and be fueled mostly by self-gratification and Adderall. And, much like he did in his previous endeavors, he plans to dominate his chosen field through action.
"Well, the way I see it," the mighty bear bellowed, "I could sit all day begging for change in a sweaty non-profit office, or I could make change by wearing spandex and roaming the streets at night."
According to Mary Claremont, a volunteer at the Career Development Center, the Super Bruin made a wise decision "When I first met Kaplan, I had no idea how to advise him," she confessed. "Half of his qualifications make him perfect for the peace corps, and half of them make him perfect for a stint as an erotic photographer at Burning Man. Only he could find a way to combine the two."
With the help of Claremont and his professors, this erotic burning man of peace plans to take the bad parts of the world by the collar, and send them straight to jail. Kaplan, with his graduation robe flapping in the wind, belted out a list of his nemeses: "Lady Poverty, you're a poor unfortunate soul, aren't you? World Hunger, eat my dust. Senor Cancer, chemo-on over here." Breaking from his string of badly constructed fighting phrases, he added, "And Dr. Doom, The Blob, and might I add, laaadies, just so you know, I'm about to graduate magnum cum laude, so, you know, watch out."
Kaplan raised his chin proudly, and placed a black eye-mask with two badly cut holes over his face. "Brunonia will never call me Kevin Kaplan again," he stated resolutely. "Super Senior, AWAAAAY!" he yodeled as he ran toward the sunset.
