Over the past few weeks, a quiet terror has slowly been creeping into the souls – and wallets – of students across campus. Having arrived at a university whose overflowing fountains of liquidity put even the legends of El Dorado to shame, several graduating seniors have come to face a terrible reality. After three and a half long years of careful fiscal management, students are now running out of ways to embezzle university funds.

“I’ve done it all,” lamented Biznezman Duin Biznez, Class of 2021. “‘Forgetting’ to advertise my lavishly budgeted event so it’s just me and my friends, subsidizing my Abu Dhabi escapades by declaring myself president of a SIG, ‘accidentally’ dropping a zero when I filled out the CSS, the works.”

“I’m an RA, my roommate does Sufara’a and my best friend is on the StuGov E-Board,” explained Yuga Tagift, Class of 2023. “Thanks to the pandemic, all of our big-ticket items have been canceled, but we still have thousands of dirhams that need to get spent. To be honest, we’re running out of ideas. If not on 150-dirham takeout or 350-dirham henna sets, what else are we supposed to drop it on?”

While certain bodies are stuck with a glut of funds, this is not widely shared. Much like the creativity of those spending it, there is broader anxiety that resources themselves are limited.

It appears that many within the student body entered believing the potential for milking the NYU Abu Dhabi cash cow all but limitless. Rounding their eighth semester however, several seniors have discovered a truly horrific truth. The university’s paths to unearned riches — much like patience for your noisy suitemate — can only go so far.

“Back in my day, the university would approve just about anything if it would resolve the budget,” yapped Oldman Yelzatclowd, Class of 2021. “That was in the good ol’ days of ‘precedented times’ when policies weren’t ‘subject to change.’”

Indeed, compounding the grave insult of finite Student Life slush funds, many undergrads are likewise panicking over how the past year’s developments have limited their extractive capacity.

“These times are leaner than the D2 salmon cuts,” explained EconBro™ Mayken Fatstaks, Class of 2021. “No more jet-setting on international conference funding, since we can’t get an in-person internship that means no more skimming off the CDC (much less a study away allowance) and stipend changes mean I can’t even use my financial aid to buy stonks! Honestly, what’s the point any more?”

“My career is now in shambles,” added Lykkoment Andfoloh, Class of 2022. “Global travel opportunities catapulted my Instagram account to stardom, but without university support to visit aesthetically pleasing vistas, I can’t even get a brand deal anymore. It’s sad to see how far we’ve fallen from J-Sexy’s vision...”

Breaking into the silence, a perturbed passerby interrupted the interview to interject. Looking more exasperated than you did finding all gym slots booked at 07:00:35 a.m. for the fifth morning straight, Czekyur Privlij, Class of 2022, offered a curious alternate perspective.

“You have less shame than the campus cats mating outside my window at 3 p.m. There’s a difference between policies that limit my ability to get Instagram likes and those that limit my ability to participate in the community, much less pursue opportunities beyond it,” they said.

“For the love of all that is holy, do not call extravagances equalizers or equalizers extravagances.”