Art School Bully Adds 300 Plaster Molds of Own Butt to Peers’ Installations

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This week, artists graduating from the BFA and MFA programs will be displaying their final works as students in the FSU Museum of Fine Arts. This is a proud time for art students to gather around, appreciate each other’s hard work, compare small tattoos of hands or bugs and lament their inner light that has diminished since enrollment. Among the graduating artists is Butch L’Beefnut, a brash student who started bullying as a performance piece during his freshman year and never gave up the act.

“These brownsniffers don’t deserve to share gallery space with me,” grunted L'Beefnut, painting the nipples of a mannequin purple. “I put my blood and sweat into my work. I’d put my tears in it too except I’m not an effing toddler!” Butch threw his brush at the ground. “My final project is going to really beef it to these chumps. Heh, I’ll show them exactly what I think of their ‘growth’ and ‘journey’ as ‘fartists,’” said Butch while doing air quotes with dirt bike gloves on.

On the last day of the exhibition’s installation, Butch arrived last with seven burly friends and a moving truck. Butch and his gang unloaded 300 plaster molds of Butch’s buttprint. “Listen up, stinkdrinkers, I’ve been working tirelessly for the last five months on these. Day and night I have literally worked my ass off for this project and it’s going in and on all of your tasteless garbage. Maggie, I’m putting three asses in the little bathtub you made and filled with tears. Dieter, that shitass portrait you did of your mother using paint you made from the oil in the last batch of peanut butter y’all ever made together is getting, like, 17 asses under it, you turdmunch,” barked Butch before smoking a four-foot-long cigarette.

Most of the students complained about Butch’s installation. However, he had been at the school for much longer and was also way stronger, taller and cooler than them. At the opening reception, Butch wandered around the gallery pointing and saying, “Owned,” at each of his perfectly molded assprints. His many months of long nights in the workspace had paid off; it was truly sick how bad he had owned his peers. After calling everyone a virgin, Butch left and cried in his truck for a very long time. While he’d beefed all over everyone else’s stew, one critical stew remained unbeefed: Butch’s sore and lonesome heart.

EDITOR'S NOTE: The College of Fine Arts' graduating artists' exhibit opens this Friday, April 13 and ends Thursday, May 3.