MSU launches high-stakes bake sale to recoup federal funding losses

DISCLAIMER: This is a satirical piece. It does not necessarily represent the views of the Exponent or its writers and should not be construed as truth.

MSU has finally solved its federal funding woes. The solution? Baked goods — and lots of them. 

In light of recent federal funding cuts and freezes with the possible demise of the Department of Education, MSU has turned to a time-honored American funding strategy — the bake sale. This wasn't just any old bake sale, though. It was a campus-wide, department-led and entirely last-ditch effort to keep the lights on and save research. We hope you’re craving sweets, Bobcats, because tuition increases alone aren't going to cut it anymore.

The idea for a bake sale was originally proposed by beleaguered financial experts inside Montana Hall. Administrators then organized the Committee for Revenue Enhancement and Alternative Monetization (CREAM) to start planning the event. On Centennial Mall on April 1 — right beside the hacky-sack players, Jehovah's Witnesses and political canvassers — various department heads set up booths, displaying their best bundt cakes and cream puffs. Additionally, the event featured a dunk tank, in which Dean of Students Matt Cakerise was quickly imprisoned.

“Bobcats never give up. We are all here today for one simple reason: to establish future security for our University,” declared MSU President Kneaded Dough-zado as she accepted a crumpled dollar bill and handed over a blue-and-gold butter brickle muffin to a hungry student. 

“We celebrate everyone’s efforts here today — staff, students and faculty — we appreciate every dollar they spend on our baked goods,” interjected MSU Spokesperson Mike CakeBaker, who appeared from directly behind Dough-zado as if summoned by the presence of an Excrement reporter. “I hope students will come out to support their University today.”

Despite the ingenuity of such a solution, the event didn’t go without criticism. “I can appreciate the grassroots ingenuity,” said economics professor Penny Cashman. “But we’ll need to sell at least 400 million cookies and 3,000 dunk tank tickets. And that’s just to keep the Potato Lab open.”

The CREAM asserted that the event would not only be financially beneficial but wouldl carve out community on campus. “This is a way not only to raise money, but to connect over food,” said President of the CREAM and recently-hired Dean of Interpreting Executive Orders Tiara Misu. “This brownie recipe right here? It’s actually a family recipe,” she said, showcasing a cardboard cutout of a Betty Crocker box.

Along with regaining some financial security from lost federal funds, MSU awarded the department head who raised the most money with an entire semester of free single-room housing on campus.

“I can only afford to live if I have two roommates,” said the Dean of Psychology Department Karl Yung. “Right now, one of them is a student of mine and he keeps stealing my answer sheets and raffling them off during class. This single-room would be a game changer.”

Competition between departments became extremely fierce. During the event, multiple fistfights broke out between the engineering and biology departments over prime bake sale table real estate in front of Montana Hall. Reports from the University Police Department suggest the fight started when the engineers attempted to construct a fully automated cookie machine. In retaliation, the biologists allegedly infected the team’s batch of frosting with E. coli.

Despite squabbles over space, every department attempted to add their own twist on the bake sale, with the Department of Economics taking a more analytical approach. 

“Here in econ, we’re all about passive income,” Cashman said. “Since getting our faculty to actually do any baking has proven difficult, we’ve officially launched a new cryptocurrency: BakeCoin. Oh, you don’t know what crypto is? So, it’s actually super interesting. It’s basically —” she tried to continue, but unfortunately, our reporter had walked away out of sheer boredom and didn’t catch the rest.

In the interest of selling the most baked goods, many department heads even abandoned campus altogether, instead setting up booths on Main Street in an attempt to capitalize off of the warm weather and Bozeman tourists. The Food and Nutrition Department in particular found a niche market selling vegan, sugar-free, gluten-free, keto, organic, detoxifying and chakra-aligning muffins to tourists seeking a more holistic culinary experience. 

“Honestly, the biggest money-saver is going egg-free. Have you seen the prices?” said nutrition major Crystal Weaver.

The Department of History and Philosophy, however, took a slightly different approach, offering customers the opportunity to ponder the existence of a pastry instead of getting a real one. “What even is a pie?” said philosophy professor Rick Snow Bird. “And can you ever truly taste it, or is it all just molecules?”

By far, the department with the most sales was the Jake Jabs College of Business and Entrepreneurship. “It’s not even because we’re good at running businesses,” said one anonymous student who may or may not be the News Editor of the Excrement. “We just don’t have anything else to do. I don’t know, dude — I was out rock climbing before this.” 

Professors weren’t the only ones feeling the heat to produce the best pastries, though. With stakes as high as they were, many departments have began to offload extra baking onto their graduate students. “It’s been tough,” said environmental sciences student Sarah Ranger. “I was supposed to get some teaching experience this semester. I guess I can at least add proficiency in brownie-cutting to my resume.”

Even undergrads felt the effects of the school’s push for bake sale revenue. "My last three tests were covered in chocolate frosting," said sophomore biology major Hunter Howler. “I don’t know if I failed because I didn’t study or because my professor was too distracted making cupcakes to grade or teach anything.”

The Excrement has also uncovered proof that if students bought enough baked goods from their department’s table, the administrators would just hand them a P.hD — no dissertation required. Many students were outraged at this news. “I can barely afford to go to school without financial aid. This is ridiculous. I voted for a meritocracy, not whatever this is,” said engineering major Eugene Millers, who actually did vote for this but doesn’t possess strong enough critical thinking skills to realize it. 

The MSU administration itself had to pitch in out of sheer desperation to recoup lost federal funds. Notably, Dean of Students Cakerise, who was locked in the dunk tank for the entire day, raised thousands of dollars in the first hour. “It’s been a great success. I’m really proud of the community MSU has created. You know, part of my job is to make sure students are having a great time,” a soaking wet Cakerise told the Excrement from inside the dunk tank. 

Apparently, the institution has even considered selling naming rights to corporations for campus buildings to raise money. “The Miller Light Dining Hall has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Cakerise said right before he was dunked for the fifty-third time that morning. 

As the semester winds down and the smell of confectionaries lingers in the air, one thing is clear: The bake sale economy and the CREAM are here to stay. Despite the recent federal tensions stomping directly on MSU’s neck, Misu said that she feels this new financial strategy has only brought campus faculty and students closer together. 

“With enough cookies, anything is possible — even paying for a university to run. Just don’t ask the Philosophy Department whether money is real,” she said. 

The CREAM will be hosting another bake sale on April 20 due to yet another Executive Order. This time, all classes on campus will be canceled and all students will be required to help run the booths of their respective departments.