By Natalie Parker:
Dear Future Student,
We here at the Dated Institute for the Children of Kings are pleased to notify you of your acceptance to our prestigious school! We congratulate you on this achievement. After all, the criteria were stiff; not every strapping young lad is both a member of the economic top .00000000000000000000000001% and has a legacy at the school that goes back at least to the invention of the hammer 2.6 million years ago! Due entirely to your rich merits, you checked both boxes and are thus able to attend this elite institution as sporadically as you want starting September 1st.
As you might know, the Dated Institute for the Children of Kings, or D.I.C.K., began as a school for generally useless but enormously rich princes who were aimless and uneducated in the ways of suppression, unearned superiority, and blatant misogyny. Their fathers were simply too busy raping and pillaging to have honest conversations with their sons about the gravity of absolute rule, so they simply sent them off to D.I.C.K. with an exorbitant amount of money and a yacht, but without saying goodbye. After all, they went to D.I.C.K., and they “turned out great,” so there is no reason why their sons shouldn’t go. Once there, the young princes learned the arts of oppression and of ruthlessly treating all women as inferior in accordance with the moral codes of their day.
These days, we are proud to say that, while our campus docks are regularly expanded and every dorm room has now been outfitted with both a set of drums that will gradually gather more and more dust over the course of the year and four foosball tables that we regularly upgrade, our curriculum has barely changed with the times. We still provide spoiled and dull teenage boys with an invaluable opportunity to learn exactly how to be as sexist and classist as possible at all times. They still arrive with exorbitant amounts of money, yachts, and without goodbyes from their fathers, and they still go because their fathers “turned out great.”
Unfortunately, we bring sad news in the form of the closure of our Father-Son therapy clinic activity, because last year not a single student attended it. However, we still offer a wide range of enriching extracurriculars. Our most popular ones are as follows:
Never Washing Your Hands
Peeing In Chamber Pots, then Dumping The Pee Out Of The Window
Starting Sentences Using The Phrase “My Father…”
Sword-Fighting With Priceless Heirlooms
Accidentally Sinking Your Yacht, Throwing An Immature Tantrum About It, and then Getting An Even Bigger Yacht A Week Later
And, of course,
6. Making Unapologetically Sexual Comments about the Female Nurse that we hired so we could Avoid A Lawsuit
As you can see, D.I.C.K. is a unique establishment. We are incredibly top-tier and we expect every single lazy rascal who fulfills both of our admissions criteria to be equally as elite. Since your father attended this institution, we are absolutely certain that you will too. Our staff is dedicated to ensuring that you are brought up to become an old-money bigot and an avid denier of the idea that anything created by someone who was ever poorer than you could possibly be useful or beneficial in any way. Remember, when you applied, you signed a waiver guaranteeing that the school will not have to fund your future therapy appointments where you bitch about your absent father. Congratulations again on your admission. We eagerly await your September 1st arrival with an exorbitant amount of money, a yacht, and without a goodbye from your father.
Regards,
The Board of the Dated Institute for the Children of Kings
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