The Inner Workings of Finance Club: An Exclusive Interview

Kai (left) and Sai (middle)

Their stand at Club Fair had the charm of a moldy plastic folding table with a yellowing Post-it instead of a flyer, because that’s exactly what it was. They didn’t have candy—they stole the bag from Fishing Club instead. They didn’t have wits—one of their top brass, when I interviewed him, repeatedly urged me to invest in nuclear fusion. In fact, their leader was a well-known agitator who had been going around that same afternoon with a sign-up sheet, coercing underclassmen into coughing up their signatures in exchange for vague descriptions of some sort of payment they might get in the future. But the organization collected over fifty members that first day, and their sponsor is none other than Sara Fischer herself. Today, fellow students, we take a peek at one of nature’s most unholy scenarios—in other words, what happens when two seniors are put in charge of a couple hundred dollars and fifty kids for a year? Will greed, malice, and stupidity (hint: it’s the last one) prevail? Or will there be any form of actual learning?

Mere hours after Finance’s first meeting, I stepped into the locker room to find Kai Aizawa ‘26, accompanied by his henchmen, indulging in his favorite hobbies: Instagram reels and Clash Royale. The interview that followed was so SCANDALOUS, so CONTROVERSIAL, so NOT-SCHOOL-APPROPRIATE that certain parts of the original copy had to be removed (cough, cough, Steinar). Yes, fellow students, what a shame. Nevertheless, we continue:

“What’s your favorite color?” An innocent enough question, I thought.

“Green. The color of money,” came the reply, Kai’s eyes still glued to his doomscrolling.

“Do you think Finance Club is going to be a success?”

“Of course,” he said, looking at me with an expression one would have as they stomped out a cockroach. “We have fifteen freshmen, and they’re going to continue the legacy as long as Bush exists.” He said the word freshmen the way most people would have said vermin.

“Is there a reason anyone shouldn’t sign up?” I asked, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction.

“Listen, if you feel like being broke, stay broke.”

“Are there any tensions within Finance Club?”

He stirred. I’d evidently struck a nerve. “A certain Sai Shah has not been putting in the work and dedication that he’s expected to produce.”

“What is he, a freshman?”

“He’s co-president. But not for long,” Kai said with a demented joyful smile.

“Do you have anything to say about the allegations that you’ve been harassing freshmen to join your club?”

“Freshmen deserve to be harassed. Why is that even a controversy?”

“What are you going to do after college?”

“Go to the business store and buy a few businesses. In Miami.”

“Wow,” I said. “You’re clearly an entrepreneur, and very serious about finance. What a perfect fit for club president! Last question,” I said. “Are the rumors true that your 2K MyPlayer is 6’5, you’re a feminist, you love to read, and love matcha?”

“Is grass green? Is the sky blue? Is Sai going to be demoted?”

Next, I interviewed Lukas Cuneo ‘28, one of Kai’s eager deputies. For some reason, though, it seems that his mind had been so addled by all the kindness Kai had offered him that all he could tell me was how great Finance Club was. I know, what a shame.

“Are our current all-gender bathrooms adequate? Do we need more privacy? Or less?” was just one of his thoughtful gems.

“Sara Fischer is reportedly giving out tardies to those who aren’t going to Finance Club,” was another.

“Who’s going to be demoted next in Finance Club?” I asked.

“I’ve heard rumors that Sai Shah is looking to step down.”

It was a Thursday afternoon, and the SWAMP was packed with freshmen, each of them clutching a Sparkling Ice and sporting the kind of confidence only a fourteen-year-old who’d just discovered the S&P 500 could muster. All of them were recent recruits to the holy grail of high school capitalism: Finance Club, home to corruption, scandal, and alleged proximity to “the baddies.” But we’ll get into that later.

First to speak with me was Maddock Lanctot ‘29, who proudly exclaimed that he was “gonna drop out of high school, move to Dubai, and start day trading. Day trading is the new Meta, trust,” and that “if you’re not a trillionaire by eighteen, you just need to pack up.”

“I think Finance Club is a rare gem in a world of struggles and hardships that seem designed to target us poor, privileged, private-school kids. It offers an opportunity to rise up and find our own way of life, a unique chance to win a shocking amount of money,” added Kai Schowengerdt-Kuzmany ‘29. He went on to describe Finance Club as “a saving grace to get us, as the kids say nowadays, ‘out of the hood.’” It’s unclear what “hood” he was referring to, given that he was wearing Gucci slacks and a polo shirt, but we’ll assume he was being metaphorical.

“It makes me wanna drop out of school and start day-trading or drop-shipping. But don’t publish that, it’s gonna ruin my reputation,” said a certain upperclassman. Unfortunately for them (gender undisclosed), the press never rests.

“Finance Club is where you go to see the BADDIES,” quipped another enthusiastically and possibly clinically insane freshman (aren’t they all?), unprompted. Apparently, some members are here for more than just market trends.

In short, Finance Club has all the charm of a pyramid scheme run out of a locker room—to quote current co-president (keyword: current) Sai Shah ‘26, “it’s becoming a meme.” But even the lowest stocks always bounce back, as Lukas Cuneo informed me, before continuing his rant about upselling candy in middle school.

Still, beneath the chaos, harassment, and mismanagement, there’s a strange sense of optimism—because if this is what rock-bottom looks like, the only way for Finance Club to go is up.