Fall in Cambridge comes in many forms. Leaves change colors, temperatures drop, and boys in suits go to mysterious destinations. In droves, these boys travel Harvard Square like teeny tiny businessmen. However, one question puzzles almost anyone who crosses the boys’ paths: Are these boys in suits going to a punch event, a recruiting event, or The Rat King’s Birthday Soirée?
Each option has strong draws. Final clubs promise raucous parties and social success to young men. Consulting and finance jobs offer launchpads to high-powered corporate careers. The Rat King’s Birthday Soirée is hosted by The Rat King: the wretched lord of Cambridge’s rodent population and complex sewer network.
Differentiating between where these nicely-dressed boys are headed is no easy task. Less astute observers may guess that a boy is punching when in reality he is dressed up to see if the petulant Rat King will send his meat scraps back to the kitchen because they aren’t cooked “medium-stinky.”
Regardless of destination, inappropriate dress bears consequences. Wearing the wrong suit? You’re cut from the Spee. Forgot your tie? Ta ta, Bain New York! No Pocket Square? The Rat King will stuff you inside a rotisserie chicken that he stole from the Charlie’s dumpster for his own sick, sick entertainment.
The suited boys may be unsure of what awaits them at their destination, for each process is quite opaque. Wax sealed punch letters are delivered in the night. First round interviews are offered via a ghostly online portal. Invites to The Rat King’s Birthday Soirée are buried within a pile of king-sized turds that appears on the OCS stoop on an undisclosed October night.
At the end of the day, you can determine where a suited boy is headed by just asking! “Are you punching?” “Where are you recruiting?” “Did The Rat King tell you that if you are not in attendance this evening he will feed your dog's legs to The Rat Prince?” Worst case, you’ve chatted up a potential new friend and best case, you might just score an invite to celebrate the long life of Cambridge’s most despicably pungent rodent emperor.
