Katrina Tulloch made a drunken pact with the Babylonian she-devil Lilith to motivate her career aspirations. She signed with the blood of a lachrymose virgin, “If journalism dies, so shall I.”

Tulloch worked hard to do what she could to keep the presses running. But soon she grew depressed with the dwindling state of the once-noble profession as it degenerated into tragic platforms for uneducated pundits, flame wars and ideological extremity.

She approached Lilith and acknowledged the death of journalism. Lilith refused to take her life, forcing her instead to live in a post-journalistic world, a droid forever damned to funnel information across platforms.

Tulloch smoked a pack of Camel Crushes, burned all her published clips and hung herself in the Treasury Room of Reis Hall. Her suicide note read, “I should have majored in poetry.”

She left one request behind: that a recording of her voice be played on WARC when the future president of the United States of Google would declare war against humanoids, for trying to harvest human brains for their electrical pulses.

The recording contained one sentence, on repeat: “Bitches, I told you so.”