By Sarah Reif

Dear Binston Swongo,

It’s your old friend, The Devil! Hope you’ve been good, buddy. I miss the good old times we had together. Especially our improv and sketch comedy troupe in Las Vegas! We did such important work. Of course, that was before I became President and CEO of Grocs.

I must admit, Binny, I actually write to you on business. I made a little visit to campus a couple weeks ago and I think I may have made a dire error while there. I need your advice.

Let me set the scene for you. It was a beautiful Saturday night in Grinnell: light breeze, little too humid, bugs super loud. I was busy fulfilling my devilish duties. So, of course, I was out on High Street, amidst the shes, hes, and theys that hadn’t tucked themselves into bed for church in the morning.

At this point, everything was going great. They were playing just the right amount of Fetty Wap, every table was coated in a sticky layer of Hawkeye and Old Milwaukee, and people were totally digging my little horns and pitchfork. Another successful night of hedonism- nothing could stop old Beelzebub!

That’s where I think I may have gotten a little overambitious. I was totally crushing a game of die against the football team when the guys and I started spitballing a little. Get me and my boys in a room and we just can’t help but be creative! We were all tossing out ideas to improve good old Grinnell. One of the guys suggests a little trade: a couple of their souls for some wins at the start of the football season. Suddenly, we were all chest bumping and calling our notaries to finalize the paperwork.

Now it’s Sunday morning and I’m getting post-trade clarity. Maybe I went a little too far this time. Sure, our football team winning is an hilarious prank, but it also just feels fundamentally wrong. What should I do?

Sincerely,

The Actual Devil ‘96

To the Devil,

Ah, my slippery little Prince of Darkness, I should have known that you were behind those football wins. You know, I actually suspected that you were back on campus- who else would be behind those vending machines that get students to fork over a bank loan to buy a bag of potato chips? You little scamp!

It’s been a strange couple of weeks since the football team started not losing all their games. Personally, I’ve been dealing with it by not acknowledging it, like encountering a couple in public who are making out for a little too long. Just avert your eyes.

Your situation reminds me of something I told Robert Noyce back in ’47, when we practically ran this place. Around that time, Robert was consumed with thoughts about the transistor, the extraordinary new invention that controlled the flow of electricity. This small and reliable device allowed scientists to perform electrical operations like never before! Robert would imagine new configurations of this invention, even the possibility of a system of transistors, connected within one single microchip.

This was about when I decided to sit him down and give him some much needed advice: “Bobby, enough about the chip already. I’m going to say what others are too afraid to tell you: this is nothing. Absolutely nothing. Let’s move on. Do something important. How ‘bout you join the football team? They could use your smarts! Plus, I hear they’ve got leather helmets now.”

But Robert Noyce never did join the football team. And they’ve never scored even one point. However, my devil friend, if you heed my advice, you will surely not go wrong.

Your friend,

Binston Swongo