Quiz: Which Terrible Sydney University Ibis Are You?
Which one of these ungodly birds are you? Find out in this quiz by Emma Balfour.
Which microaggressions have you forced upon me?
- You, a bad ibis, wore a small hat and held a miniature pipe in your terrible beak. You used this to become Detective Ibis, and brought even the smallest of my secrets to the public eye, uploaded to a daily blog.
- You, the dreadful two-wings, made passive aggressive squawks towards a coffee cup I discarded outside Fisher Library.
- You, a scoffing featherlord, achieved a higher participation mark in ECOP1001 than I did.
With your awful mouth, you ate a dearly loved possession of mine that I once did hold. What was it?
- An access card belonging to my long lost brother who is made of stone.
- One human thumb taken from my favourite hand (the left).
- A take home exam I had not completed yet, and before you took it into your disgusting mouth you filled out every question with the falsehood “I love the silky ibis.”
Once I went to sit a lecture but the time in my timetable had been altered by one of you, the wicked feathers. Tell me ibis, was it you who altered my timetable?
- Yes, and I attended the lecture in your stead and I did not take notes for you.
- I did it gloriously from my throne of garbage.
- I used my stinky talons to type an incorrect timetable, and I’d do it again for a new trash nest to sit and croon to my beloved in.
You defiled a treasured part of the campus, my campus that I love, and you did it with a poo from your tum. Where did you leave this poo?
- On the Law Lawns, my home, my dominion. I live in my toilet and I love it there.
- Within the bell tower I left my garbage gift. Music is the bad thing, and I despise the melodies I hear in the knowledge town.
- My poo was done near the colleges and became the Bosch lecture halls. I love my big poo and I visit it every Sunday, god’s day.
So, which one of the ugly beasts are you? Quickly answer, so I can identify you and run with terror, shouting your beastly name!
MOSTLY As: You are Bertha, the sensitive queen of the recycling bins.
You like the garbage in the bin of your mouth. You are the gutter reviver, pulling things from dark places and taking them to darker ones. You hide behind lecterns to frighten me at my most studious.
MOSTLY Bs: You are Thomas, the proud prince of the now-filthy skies.
You like to do a fly and make the clouds feel dreadful. You are the atmospheric turd who seeks me in my peaceful moments to remind me the reasons you are bad. Well done, you really pissed up, Thomas.
MOSTLY Cs: You are Dita, the young punk of the roof.
You enjoy the scratching with your spiked toes, and your cry is most malevolent. Each gulp of food is more violent than the last, and you have a beak covered in hellish and bad things. You carry with you a list of vengeful acts to do to me, and maintain eye contact constantly.