The Fighting Snare Line

Hometown: Fairfield, Connecticut
Major/Year: Computer Science, 2020
Instrument: Snare
Previously Known As: "GummyTBD"
This is not the story of my life. This is the story of the day my life changed forever.

It was at some high school event, the details of which I’ve forgotten. I didn’t even care at the time what is for. The only reason I attended were those four immortal words, those which still haunt me to this day:

“Snacks will be provided.”

Young and foolish as I was, I believed these lies, these promises of grandeur. I went to the event. I sat through the opening speech - the longest, most painfully dull speech I’ve ever endured. Only the promise of free, tasty snacks kept me from crying out in agony and rushing from the school.

Eventually, mercifully, the speech ended. The announcer invited us to go obtain our hard-earned award: donuts. I leapt eagerly from my seat, rushing to the snack table. I selected what appeared to be a plain powdered donut and took a huge bite.

As my teeth sank into the donut, I realized the terrible truth:

It was jelly-filled.

I didn’t cry out in disgust or anger as I chewed the unfathomable monstrosity. I didn’t say a word. I just stared, heartbroken, into the distance. What world is this, I pondered, that can so quickly betray a teen on the cusp of greatness? That can hide its dark, gooey, “fruit”-flavored secrets so easily behind an inviting facade of sugar and dough? That can, in moments, destroy any perceived notions of trust?

The answer came easily: it is not a good world. But, I slowly realized as I crushed the remains of the offending pastry in my hand, perhaps I can make it one.

And that is the day I decided to become a supervillain.


Hometown: Clarksville, MD
Major/Year: Economics, 2022
Instrument: Snare
I have crash landed in foreign territory.

I look around. I’m in a fairly small enclosed space, some sort of room. I’m elevated, possibly on a mountain or an elevated protrusion of bedrock.

“Come in, Star Command.” No response. “Star Command, come in. Do you read me?” Nothing. Why the hell don’t they answer??

Something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. Oh, gosh, my ship! Blast! This’ll take weeks to repair. I need to put this in the log.

[Mission log, stardate 4-0-7-2] My ship has run off course en route to sector 12. I’ve crash-landed on a strange planet. The impact must’ve awoken me from hypersleep. Terrain seems a bit unstable. No readout yet if the air is breathable. And there seems to be no sign of intelligent life anywhere.

Suddenly, a foolish cowboy man appears out of nowhere, screaming, “HELLO!” In the face of extreme danger, I immediately activate my defense mechanisms. I am ready to blast him into oblivion. He says something, but I am not listening. I circle around him, analyzing the most vulnerable part of his body to strike with my unstoppable laser.

But wait, he has a badge! Finally, it’s about time local law enforcement got here. I explain the situation, and it’s not a good one. But wait, danger! New life-forms! Ah, they’re friendly. I introduce myself to the native species. They’re a weird bunch, but everyone seems to admire my various talents, as they should. Well, everyone except for him!

How dare he insult me?! I am no toy. As a member of the elite Universe Protection Unit of the Space Range Corps, I protect the galaxy from the threat of invasion from the Evil Emperor Zurg*, sworn enemy of the Galactic Alliance. He doesn’t think I can fly? I could fly around this room with my eyes closed! I’ll show him. Stand back everyone! I climb up to the edge of the mountain, take a deep breath, and close my eyes.

To infinity and beyond!


Hometown: Mentor, OH & Fulshear, TX
Major/Year: Underwater Basket Weaving, 2022
Instrument: Snare
I’m fish,
Pro-fish,
RED fish,
Bro fish.
Black & blue knees
‘Cause I zoom, bish.

This knee has a giant scar.
‘Cause this fish zooms fkin’ far.
I am one who likes to run.
I run on North and drop my drum.

Oh me! Oh my!
Oh me! Oh my!
I face-plant, but I don’t cry.

I am a fish who has two feet,
While I march, I tend to yeet.
Cadencing near Gates Hall in four,
*trips* AHHHH-- shoot, I’m on the floor.

Why fish have legs, I don’t know...
Some are fast. And some are slow.
But I’m the fastest, I just GO!
Can’t wait for winter with the slippery snow.

Say! What a lot hills there are.
Some are steep. And some are far.
Some I think give me bad luck,
One of which is by Louie’s food truck.
Some are long, and some are bad.
Don’t believe me? Go ask my dad.
He would say:
“He has adapted to college pretty well given we dropped him off at a toga party on our way to the hotel last night!”