The following content is purely satirical and entirely fictional.
As sophomores decide where to eat their meals next year, the reported financial troubles of Princeton eating club Cloister Inn define much of this year’s Street Week. Although this has been attributed to low sign-in numbers, a low member retention rate, and disappointing returns on their investments, a recent audit of the club’s financial statements revealed that a urine shortage is the true cause of Cloister’s near bankruptcy.
“We store gallons of pee in the basement to throw on people at parties, as you know,” said Cloister president Serena Stream ’24. “People have been stealing from our pee reserves for the past year, and we’ve been burning through our cash just trying to stay stocked.”
An analysis of their financial reports shows that, up until last October, Cloister was spending $50,000 a month on hundreds of gallons of human urine, as well as $20,000 on high-quality capuchin monkey urine reserved for members-only events. Last October, the club was forced to switch exclusively to donkey urine due to its affordability.
“Our cups have been stinking of pee for a couple of months now,” said Stream. “My question is, if you’re going to steal it, why drink it at the scene of the crime?”
Cloister’s treasurer Mick Churate ’25 confirmed in an interview that, if the pee continues to “fly off the shelves” as it has been, the club will be forced to close its doors. “If we don’t have that liquid gold, we’ve ultimately lost our identity as a club,” said Churate.
“If our board can’t figure out who’s been plundering our piss, we’re going to be in serious trouble,” said Stream. “We’ve ruled out the five of us, so that leaves our four remaining members. It’s just hard when the whole heavyweight rowing team smells like a porta potty.”
Sophia Varughese ’26 is a head Humor editor. Just because she smells like pee doesn’t mean she’s the one drinking it, okay?