ACCOUNTING: You have come to realize that Accounting involves a lot more than just Counting. You discard your abacus in favour of a computer and switch into CS. You become a gnarled old code monkey and create software that makes all manual accounting obsolete.
Your lucky number: 0 accounts receivable.
ACTSCI: You embark upon a quest to become the first Actuarial Science student in the history of the universe to get laid. After dozens of attempts, you realize the horrible truth: No girl in math will date you because there are so many guys to pick from, and no one else will date you because they have higher standards.
Your lucky number: 90%
AHS: You went into Kinesiology because your dad is a gym teacher and you thought it would be cool. Now you realize that there are 3,000 applicants for each gym teacher opening. You go into massage therapy instead and spend your career touching fat rich people.
Your lucky number: $50/session, $60 if you sweat a lot.
AMATH: You apply your maths to the application of math, thinking that there must be some way to mathematically determine just how much math to apply in a given situation. A friend points out that you also need to determine how much math to apply in the application of maths to the application of math, etc. You go insane and die.
Your lucky number: ∞
ARTS: Unlike most of your fellows, you realized before taking Arts that you either had to become a teacher, be poor and live in a box, or both. The nights you don't spend drinking, you scrounge for building materials. Upon graduation you build the biggest, shiniest box any Artsie could wish for.
Your lucky number: Only 20 rats.
BBA/BMATH: You learn that knowing any math at all makes you highly overqualified for an upper-management position, and trying to climb the corporate ladder would be futile. You climb a stepladder instead — to hang yourself — but realize you've dressed "business casual" and don't have a tie on.
Your lucky number: $20/hr.
C&O: You discover a cubic-time solution to the travelling salesman problem and become incredibly famous (for a mathematician). However, NP-hard gremlins take over the world and make everyone their slaves. All your dreams have come true, you twisted freak.
Your lucky number: ex.
CS: After a night of hardcore drinking, you wake up in the Comfy. You can't tell whether you had an accident because everything smells like urine in there anyways. You stumble into the C&D, where you are mistaken for a zombie. You get into a linguistic/philosophical argument with another customer, who insists it should be spelled "zomby". You manage to order a coffee but pass out and drown in it.
Your lucky number: 22 AA-12 rounds.
ENG: You complain to mathNEWS that ENG is far too broad. You want an ECE horrorscope so that we can write about how happy you are that SE won't be in your OS class anymore. We respond that you suck and the only "math" you do is figuring out significant digits. You cry.
Your lucky number: 30. x 106.
ES: The environment sucks, so you chain yourself to a tree. You wonder vaguely if this was a rational idea but quickly dismiss the notion. Future paleontologists label you "Homo borealis" and put your bones in a museum.
Your lucky number: 700 views/day.
MATHBUS: Confused about your program, you push one of your math professors in front of a bus. While in prison you start a Ponzi scheme for cigarettes. When your fellow inmates discover your ploy they kill you with a spoon.
Your lucky numbers: 1, 3, 6, 10, 15, 21, ...
MATHSCI: Your father said "Math and Science in the same head? Good God man! Who can live at that speed?", and you're starting to suspect that he was right. For the sake of your sanity (but at the expense of being poor and living in a box), you drop into English.
Your lucky number: Two times the speed of life.
PMATH: You break up with your "math" ("girlfriend") after realizing she wasn't so "pure" ("pure"). Your standards become higher and higher until no one can possibly meet them. You are alone for the rest of your life.
Your lucky number: π. Just because.
SCI: You somehow manage to major in both Biology and Physics, and conceive of a toad that evolves into a black hole. You realize that the idea is ridiculous and sell the movie rights to Dreamworks. They make it into an animated musical with singing rats, and you are ashamed.
Your lucky number: #2 animated movie this summer.
SOFTENG: Despite the recent changes to your Operating Systems course, you are still terrified by it. Reducing your sleep time even further makes you feel like dying. You drop into CS, and are dismayed to learn that you can't take 490 without OS.
Your lucky number: 350.
STAT: You estimate that the probability of having a streak of 154 in craps is about 1 in 1.6x10^12. You know that a woman in New Jersey just had such a streak, and conclude that impossible odds don't mean something is actually impossible. You drop out and blow your student loan at a craps table.
Your lucky number: Let me roll a couple dice here . . . looks like a 7. Too bad.
UNDECLARED: You go to your academic advisor for help figuring out what you want to do. She tells you you're yes, then you're no; you're in, then you're out; you're wrong when it's right; you don't really want to stay, but you don't really want to go. You leave her office dazed and confused, get lost, wake up in Vegas and later find out that she's been fired for telling another student to kiss a girl.
Your lucky number: 1 of the boys.
Holy crap, you weren't lying!