Classmates Scoff At Drunken Male Cheerleader’s Presidential Aspirations

NEW HAVEN, CT--John W Mills is a male cheerleader at Yale University. Each Sunday he dresses in his school colors and stalks the sidelines of the football stadium with a makeshift bullhorn, cheering on the home team against its Ivy League rivals. Afterwards, he organizes large keg parties and drinks himself into oblivion along with several other cheerleaders, players and fans. By all accounts he is a fun loving, irresponsible oaf who is destined to make a living at one of his rich daddy’s corporations. But Mills has more lofty goals. According to classmates, the drunken boor actually thinks he can be president some day.

“I don’t know what it is with that guy, but he really thinks he can lead the free world someday,” said classmate Richard Wellington, 21. “Imagine a dufus like him sitting in the Oval office making decisions affecting the lives of millions of people? Hello! This is America, stupid, not some crazy fantasy land.”

Wellington is not alone in his feelings toward Mills. While generally regarded as a likable chap, Mills is not considered to be presidential material. He is not even considered employable, except when it comes to the family business.

“Mills’ dad is a big real estate mogul,” said Wellington. “So he’s going to stumble ass-backwards into a high paying job in the family business. But that’s OK, a lot of us have family connections that we milk to various degrees. It’s this whole ‘president’ thing that really kills me. The guy’s a C student, a male cheerleader, and all he really cares about is getting shitfaced and spending the money in his trust fund. How can he think that he can be the most powerful man in the world, especially during such a crucial time in human history? Come on, give the American people some credit.”

Mills was not considered Yale material when he graduated from a prep school in California. There, he was a marginal student with discipline problems. However, since his father is a Yale alumnus, Mills was awarded admission over more qualified candidates.

“John got in here because his dad graduated from Yale also,” said Mary LeClair, a fellow Yale University cheerleader. “He took a spot away from some bright, hard working person just because of his bloodline. I guess you could call it affirmative action for rich kids, which is ironic since he’s so adamantly opposed to affirmative action.”

Aside from his penchant for drinking and partying, Mills is also known to have a substance abuse problem. The exuberant oaf has been spotted at several get-togethers snorting lines with other classmates. This decidedly un-presedential behavior makes those around him scoff whenever he discusses his fantasy of being in the White House.

“A cokehead in the White House?” asked Mill’s roommate, Ronald Weaver. “Yea, sure, that’s gonna happen. I don’t know why he even entertains those stupid fantasies. Maybe all that coke and beer has finally gone to his head. I swear, I’m not the only one who thinks he has a few screws loose. Everyone around here does. A guy like that making decisions about war, the economy, social security, and health care? Yikes! I’d kill myself if he ever got elected president. Thank God it’s never going to happen. His father is a powerful guy, but he’s not that powerful.”

Weaver’s favorite Mills story occurred after last year’s Harvard-Yale basketball game. As usual, Mills organized the giant post-game soiree, ordering several kegs of beer as well as a large buffet of food purchased with his father’s credit card. The affair was largely a success until the end when an inebriated Mills made a complete fool of himself.

“The party was winding down, and a lot of people were getting ready to leave,” said Weaver. “It had been a great night up until that point. Unfortunately, John wasn’t finished partying and he started chastising people who wanted to call it a night. I remember he was very belligerent and extremely overbearing”

According to Weaver and other witnesses, when Mills saw that he was being ignored by fellow partygoers, he stood up on a coffee table, placed a lampshade over his head and embarked on a lengthy rant.

“Hey, where are you all going?” he slurred. “Hey, Tammy, why are you going home early? You, Richard, why are you putting your jacket on? What the fuck? What, you guys don’t wanna stay here and party with me? Well screw you, then. Go to hell. When I’m president I’ll be the most powerful man in the world, and then you’ll all wanna be my friend.”

After the speech, Weaver explained, Mills became ill and vomited down the front of his shirt. He had to be carried into the bedroom where he passed out.

“That guy sure has a lot of growing up to do if he wants to make it in the business world, let alone be president,” said Weaver. “Let’s sum up, here. He’s the son of an real estate mogul, he’s never worked a day in his goddamn life, he got into Yale because of his daddy, he’s a drunk, he does coke, and he’s a male cheerleader. Let me know if he ever becomes President, because I swear I’ll move straight to Canada. Better yet, I’ll move to Jupiter. Who knows what that guy could be capable of?”