After an exhaustive and completely unfabricated investigation on my part, I have come to the conclusion that there is a 50/50 chance that President Glassman is a werewolf.

While this may come as a shock to some of you, there were others (like myself) who could see the warning signs: the obsession with the “Teen Wolf” soundtrack, his favorite movie being “I Was a Teenage Werewolf”, his hatred of being mooned, and his time spent in England in the 80’s.

These are but a few of the obvious signs that lead me to believe our beloved president is a werewolf. “But Will, that’s all just circumstantial evidence. Don’t you have any real proof?” I hear you ask.

To that I say: proof is for suckers. I prefer real journalism; the kind where you hurl wild accusations at someone and see what sticks. But, if you really want more evidence, I suppose I can scrounge something up for you, loyal readers. Let’s get to it.

In addition to those early facts that I absolutely did not make up about President Glassman, I was able to conduct an interview with a local dog.

Believing he would have more to say about the subject than any of you normies, I was able to find a dog that not only looked credible but whose owner was kind enough not to call the police on me.

The dog I interviewed was Pot Roast, who appeared to be a Miniature Schnauzer or maybe he was just a Schnauzer who was far away.

While initially hesitant to answer my questions, Pot Roast eventually barked at me in such a way that I was able to edit the soundbyte to sound as if he had said “I can neither confirm nor deny the idea that President Glassman is a werewolf. What I can tell you is that my owner, Greg, was incredibly rude to you and should be ashamed of himself for hitting you over the head with an umbrella. That was incredibly untoward of him.”

Unfortunately, at this point, Pot Roast turned hostile and began biting my arms and neck. I was able to pry myself away but not before he had caused enough damage to render me delirious from blood loss.

It was during this state of delirium that I wandered into the woods by Lake Charleston and conducted my next interview with the local witch who lives out there.

Struggling to maintain consciousness, I was offered her mysterious brew (which tasted suspiciously like Baja Blast) and subsequently managed to inquire about her history with our dear president.

She told me that, envious of his prowess at being president, she had cursed him with lycanthropy in the hopes that this condition would violate The Occupational Safety and Health Act of 1970 and force him to resign.

What she didn’t know was that EIU was built on ground consecrated by Pope Callixtus I which staves off the curse enough to allow President Glassman control over his bestial form.

Before I could press the witch for more information, I was found by local police who were alerted to my presence after a small family saw me sitting in front of a tree, seemingly conversing with it.

All of my attempts to explain my previous interviews with Pot Roast and The Witch of Lake Charleston ended with me being repeatedly tased and the officers making baseless accusations that I must be on some kind of hard drug.

There’s only one drug for me, dear readers: cold hard sudafed. I mean…truth. Anyway, my hope is that my physical anguish and upcoming jail sentence are not in vain and that you will continue to blindly believe whatever nonsense I write. Go Panthers!

Will Padgett is a sixth year Mixology major and has been banned from all 1,447 Dennys restaurants located in the United States.