Coming to after a particularly debaucherous Spring Fling, scene looked around, kicked the moderately-satisfactory hookup out of our bed, said goodbye to the past (flings) and decided to devote this week’s cover to future.

What will New Haven look like in 2020? Why should we care? You might be gone before anything actually happens, but we’re sure that someday our fine University will emerge from its chrysalis of blue construction board and become a beautiful butterfly. We’re at Yale during its awkward adolescence, the acne will clear up eventually. By the time your kids — you know you’re counting on legacy points — make it to the Elm City, Yale will have reached its twenties, completely sold out to I-banking and be looking for a house in the suburbs.

But today we’re still stuck in teenage Yaliedom so it’s time to deal with our issues and say goodbye to the class of 2007. We’ve laughed, we’ve cried, we’ve shared some diseases and now we must part.

First, our senior columnists/foodies: Joe “I’ll bring you something pretty” Aphinyanaphongs — We’ll miss your insights into the secret lives of sex offenders, and you still owe us that bottle of wine. Chad “I coulda been a priest” Callaghan — 22 columns??? Holy Shit! From the catalogue of kissers to the gay mafia, you’ve gotten undressed in front of us for years, and yet you’re still so toned! David Cherni“Always on Time”coff — You’ve braved the mires of Aleksey Vayner, TFA and those mysterious naked parties: we’re still hoping that you make it to one of those someday. Eli “Why don’t people get my obscure references?” Clark — Senior freak-out, to-do lists and feminists, oh my! Jon “I don’t get no respect” Pitts-Wiley — Final Thought: Affirmative Action to teabagging. It’s been a hell of a run, kid, a hell of a run. Gordon Jenkins — What will the Yale community do without its semi-weekly gourmand? Promise you’ll bring us some gnocchi next year?

Finally, our predecessors: the raunchy Kevin Osowski, the over-worked and under-shaven David Sadighian and the well-rested Stephanie Speirs. You made the scene cover the institution that it is today, obsessed over and made daily trips to the well of alliteration. Everything we know (about American Apparel), we learned from you.

And so we bid you adieu, class of 2007. scene loves you, more than you’ll ever know. When you become rich and famous (read: sell-out), remember us and how cool you used to be.