WESTIN COPLEY—This weekend, BU’s annual night of elegant promenading was interrupted by a mob of pitchfork-wielding poor, eyewitnesses report.

“It was just horrible,” said Georgiana Marino (SMG ‘14), dressed to the nines in jewelry and Armani shoes. “I paid a lot for these drinks and to dance beneath these beautiful chandeliers. What did I do to deserve this?”

At 10:15 pm, after finishing the late-night shifts at their various work-study jobs at the GSU, a mass of impoverished people had gathered outside of the hotel.

“Steady, men,” said Jack O’Toole (COM ’17), shivering due to his lack of North Face jacket as he peered at the finery inside the hotel.

The trouble started when Ferdinand Toontz (SMG ’16) collided with one of the bystanders with the Maserati he received for his 20th birthday.

“I can’t afford to treat this injury!” said the victim, Ren Landon (CAS ’15), who has three student loans. “Everyone, we’re going in! Somebody pick me up!”

Westin doorman Raymond Meyer (COM ’81) could hardly close the door before the mob mobilized and charged into the lobby.

“Tickets cost $31—“ the doorman screamed before his mouth was stuffed with grass.

The situation escalated inside the hotel as the filthy plebeians began to mix with the upper crust. The music switched from Pitbull to Pete Seeger as hors d’oeuvres were ravenously consumed by those who can’t afford an unlimited dining plan.

“Keep your filthy New Balance off of my clutch! Ugh, those shoes are so horribly affordable,” poshed Natasha Wainwright (SMG ’15), as her Coach purse was trampled by the feet of paupers.

Further destruction was averted by Antoine Marie (SMG ’14) who buffed, “Let them eat cake.”

“No, seriously,” he sneered. “They just served dessert.”

At press time, everyone was using their iPhones to take pictures of the giant cake, which sources say tasted too rich.

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