DURING VACATION, 10 Harvard students were invited to a party at a nearby island. The next day, police discovered their bodies alongside some odd murder weapons: a bag of Doritos, an orgo book and some salad dressing.

Police later found a note in a Hefenreffer bottle near the Charles. The Crimson reprints the astounding note but leaves out the names so as not to embarrass roommates:

"I wonder if anyone will read this. If anyone does, let it be known that the murdered students were not just victims of another crazed psychopath. They were also sinners and deserved to die.

"During my four years at Harvard, I saw all of them commit horrendous crimes and I only wish--I hope you'll agree--that they could have suffered more.

"The first sinner wore a Harvard sweatshirt to a Wellesley party. Jerks like him give us all a bad name.

"The second cut in line at lunch every day while at Harvard. Multiply 20 seconds (the time he added) by 100 (the approximate number of schooldays in a term) by eight semesters and you realize that he forced his housemates to wait an extra half hour for Harvard food.

"The third told one too many students that she had more work than anyone on campus. She will never have to lift an orgo book again.

"The fourth ate Doritos at 2 a.m. in the dining hall during Reading Period while everyone else was trying to study. What made this guy so bad is that he realized the evil of his ways. He tried to nibble quietly, then to suck on the chips, but he never did what we all wanted him to do--choke.

"The fifth argued in a writing workshop that a metaphor would have been better than a simile in a classmate's paper.

"The sixth agreed.

"While controlling a tap at a crowded party, the seventh only poured beer for her muscular friends. For ignoring weasly but thirsty people like me, she's dead.

"The eighth puked all over a Weld bathroom and didn't clean it up. Because it happened on a Friday night, the rest of us had to dodge green puddles for nearly three days. The guy who mopped it up wasn't too psyched either.

"During a b-league co-ed touch football game, the ninth screamed at a referee for spotting the ball too close to the endzone. Not only did the ref have to listen to this ass, but he made the right call.

"The tenth is the guy who dribbles the Russian dressing into the yogurt and granola at the salad bar.

"If you still think I was cruel to these Ten Little Turkeys, remember: they may be in hell, but you're in Exam Period."