My fellow students, I need to alert you of a new danger to you on campus—an angry cat.

Hear me out. You see, this is not the normal feral cat you see around campus all the time. No, those avoid you at every turn and are most often seen running by with a dead rodent in its mouth or hiding behind a trash can.

This cat, a large brown tabby, is mostly seen at the door of the Laun Center screaming its little head off like it’s Lassie-cat, trying to get your attention.

However, if you try to go near it, the cat stops meowing and gives you a look like you’re the weird one who’s trying to get its attention.

I have seen it by the library screaming at everyone going by, and then falling asleep in the bushes like it had just come out of a bar, blackout drunk. Sometimes this cat’s bender turns violent. He has followed one of my friends to the point where she got scared. When I was trying to take pictures for this article, the cat stared at me and then backed up to attack. I had to run away to keep from being mauled. Probably.

So, what is the reason for the cat’s strange behavior? Is he just an alcoholic? No, don’t be silly: where would he get alcohol? My explanation is much simpler: He is a robot cat sent from the government to spy on us.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I can see that it’s a really crummy spy-bot. That’s why it’s clearly malfunctioning.

You see, he was programmed to follow and watch. He does so with a noisy, obsessive, and violent intensity. He is following us, trying to get closer. He is calling for our attention so that he can see us better. Something has gone mad in his electronic spy-cat brain.

So the problem for the agents that sent him is that he will be hard to recall. Since he has been around a few days, he must not be responding to his auto-return button. So they would have to drive up in their white van just to grab a cat. People would notice that. They would probably also notice a deactivated cat robot lying around on campus. So the best plan for them is to just leave it be.

Of course, that could mean trouble for us.

If we’re lucky, it will just stay at the same level, meowing at us until its preset expiration date. If we’re not lucky, however, it could malfunction. This could just mean that it decides to live in one of the ponds, meowing at nothing in the murky darkness. It could, however, have more sinister breakdowns. If it wanted, it could stalk us down, watch us, trip us on the stairs, stab us, and plant the evidence on our friends.

For now, however, it is just watching us, and waiting. And meowing.