In what could be described as a high-stakes game of “make yourself at home,” pro-Palestinian protesters recently barricaded themselves inside the Stanford University president's office, turning it into an impromptu headquarters for their demands. Who knew a university president's office had such versatile real estate value?

The protesters, determined to renovate the space into a fortress of civil disobedience, are demanding divestment from companies supporting Israel's military campaign. While some students might struggle to get an audience with university decision-makers, these demonstrators opted for the direct approach—by becoming the president's unexpected new roommates.

The Stanford Department of Public Safety, along with a coalition of campus police, Palo Alto police, and Santa Clara County Sheriff's deputies, responded to the scene, making it arguably the most heavily guarded piece of furniture in all of academia. Over a dozen protesters didn't read the fine print on the eviction notice and were subsequently arrested.

The protest is part of a larger wave of pro-Palestinian campus activism stoked by recent geopolitical turmoil. Following Hamas' attack on Israel and the subsequent military response, college campuses across the U.S. have seen an upsurge in demonstrations.

Inside the building, approximately ten protesters held their ground—or carpet—while outside, dozens of others linked arms, ensuring that unity was in no short supply. Protesters are also demanding transparency and amnesty from the university, perhaps hoping that honesty is still the best policy, even in an occupied office.

In a not-so-stunning plot twist, the group "Liberate Stanford" has accused unknown agitators of engaging in acts of vandalism such as graffiti and fake blood spills. While no one can condone such actions, it does put a distinctive, albeit messy, spin on the phrase "painting the town red"—or in this case, the administrative office.

As the scene inside the president’s office became a Netflix-worthy drama, one might wonder if the protesters were planning to rename it “The People's Office” or perhaps “The Ministry of Silence No More.” Either way, their commitment suggests a long-term lease that doesn’t quite conform to standard university policies.

As the academic year progresses, it remains to be seen whether the administration will meet any of the protesters’ demands or simply file this chapter under “annoying things university presidents have to deal with before lunch.” For now, the office stands as a testament to what happens when peaceful protest meets high property values and even higher passions.

No word yet on whether this will earn the protesters any extra credit or merely a cautionary tale for future student activism. Stay tuned for more episodes of "As the President's Office Turns," because in the world of campus activism, the drama never really graduates.