In a move that can only be described as the perfect blend of academia and arachnophobia, Bucknell University’s administration has unleashed a horde of tarantulas onto campus. What was initially believed to be a Halloween decoration extravaganza has quickly turned into a hairy, eight-legged nightmare for students and staff alike. 

In a press release that read more like a deranged professor’s experiment log, the administration announced that they were going to create the ultimate Halloween spectacle by releasing hundreds of tarantulas throughout campus. “We wanted to give our students an authentic Halloween experience,” they said, with a sinister cackle. “What could be more authentic than a real-life horror movie?”

However, the horror that unfolded was not exactly what the administration had in mind. Students, who had previously envisioned pumpkins, skeletons and cobwebs adorning the campus, were instead greeted by an eight-legged army of hairy spiders that seemed to have their own agenda—something akin to conquering the world, one dorm room at a time. 

The first signs of chaos were noticed when the Bostwick staff found tarantulas nestled within salad greens and lurking beneath pizza slices. One student, who had unwisely left their backpack unattended for a mere moment, found it mysteriously cocooned in spider silk. It appears that the administration’s attempt to ‘decorate’ the campus has led to a newfound appreciation for online classes among the student body. 

The ‘Bucknell Tarantula Apocalypse,’ as it has come to be known, has also had its fair share of unintended consequences. Local pest control businesses have been overwhelmed with calls from panicked students and residents, causing them to temporarily run out of bug spray. Residents of Lewisburg have started referring to the university as “Arachnid Acres,” a name that the administration is perhaps secretly proud of. 

In response to the chaos, the Bucknell University administration released a statement that acknowledged the “unintended consequences” of their ‘decorating’ strategy and promised to take action. While the tarantulas are being safely collected and relocated by a professional team, the damage, both to the University’s reputation and to students’ fragile psyches, may be irreparable. 

In the end, the Bucknell Tarantula Apocalypse will undoubtedly go down in the history of higher education as a Halloween stunt gone wrong. As the dust (and spider silk) settles, one can only hope that the university will consider more traditional forms of Halloween decoration in the future—pumpkins, ghosts and witches, perhaps. Anything but more spiders, please.