The truths and traumas of UPDOG, Geneseo’s underground organization

Have you ever walked into a room and had someone say to you, “it smells like updog in here”? You may be thinking that it is just a silly little ditty to get you to say “what’s updog?” but there seems to be much more than meets the eye here. Anecdotes having to do with this elusive “updog” are likely a dog-whistle phrase (no pun intended) for an undercover operations division of the University Police Department (UPD). According to whispers around campus, the University Police Dark Ops in Geneseo, otherwise known as the UPDOG, has been operating in secret around campus since SUNY Geneseo’s establishment in 1871. 

Jedediah Levison, a resident of the village of Geneseo since 1969 and a regular patron at Idle Hour, is cited as saying that Milne Library was closed not because of asbestos, but because the UPDOG busted a drug trade operating out of Milne’s ceiling rafters. To verify this, I sat down with UPD officer Carl Bowlin, who said the following: “Jedediah is clinically insane, and he needs to sit down, take his meds, and cut his addiction to those little Werther’s caramel candies.”

When I was with Officer Bowlin, I couldn’t help but notice that he was blinking a lot. Could he be using morse code to say, “help me?” Who knows! I sure as hell don’t know morse code. 

After this strange encounter, I finally got the opportunity to talk with Geneseo administrator-in-chief Denees Dattles, who said she would be more than happy to tell me about the inner-workings of Geneseo’s police force. We talked for about a half an hour about UPD’s duties around campus, and their recreational group activities like underwater basket weaving and blindfolded basketball. However, as soon as I mentioned the word “UPDOG,” administrator-in-chief Dattles opened her desk, pulled out a glock, and attempted to take my life. Fortunately, I was able to escape thanks to two years’ worth of Kaio-Ken martial arts training and a religious commitment to daily pilates. 

When I was driving home from Dattles’ office, two black SUVs with their lights off followed close behind me. I was able to dodge them for a short time, but I don’t know how long it will take for them to find me here in the Mary Jemison all-gender bathroom. If you’re reading this, I’m dead. 

Oh god, they’re here, someone make sure to pass on my family’s gluten-free ice cube recipe, the secret ingredient is—