Anthropology professor Jeff Kimbrel is a simple man. After he wakes up in the morning, he fills up his Coffee Makes Me Poop! travel mug with light roast coffee, squeezes his two-person Smart Car in between the Napleton Infiniti cars that are still at the Saint Augustine Garage and prints of all of his material for the day -- double-sided. Yet despite all of his do-gooding, Kimbrel still finds time to reprise his role as Captain Planet when he’s not grading online submissions.
“The whole superhero thing all started when I was writing my dissertation in the late 90’s, if I’m remembering correctly,” said Dr. Kimbrel, whose only media content on his phone includes the Too Many Cooks audio and pictures of Dachshunds in bathrobes. “I heard an ad on the radio asking for someone to come audition to dress up as Captain Planet for an environmentalism event my college was putting on. Then, before I knew it, I had already voted for Al Gore four times before he even announced his candidacy and I had this terrible, sinking feeling that somehow Donald Trump would pull out of some agreement with Paris, but I was naive enough to assume it had to do with building another goddamn hotel.”
Not all of his students are fans. “I think he’s pretty full of himself, honestly. The two times a week I don’t drunkenly chuck my empty beer bottles onto the sidewalk in front of my apartment, I recycle them. You don’t hear me bragging about it!” said sophomore Logan Draper, who jerks off into socks just for the novelty of it. “Climate change is a bunch of bullshit. After all, my power only went out for four hours during Irma and I had to pour out the three 24-packs of water bottles I scalped at the last minute!”
“I know these kids don’t always appreciate the work I do now, but they sure will in eighty years when their parents house’s only value is as a fucking maze for fish in the ocean,” sighed Kimbrel. “Ah well. For now I can take solace in knowing that my biking days have given me the ability to make it all the way to the Rockies when the world runs out of gas, and that I’m the only professor in FSU history to fit a midterm and a final on the same sheet of paper.”