Partly Cloudy, 64°
Booooooo! It is I, the ghost of Henry Dexter Sharpe, former president of this most esteem’d “College in the Colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations”—returned from the grave to roam its ivied halls once again. Booooooo! Tremble and quake at my spooky and translucent form!
Three score and five years past, I bequeathed to the college a fair sum so that it might construct a Refectory, or commissarie in which generations of Brown men could eat their fill of fried sweet potatoes and vegan carrots with tequila. I returned this week in hopes of spooking many a student as they sat to the evening meal.
Imagine, then, the horror with which I discovered that today, many an impudent undergraduate dares to daily besmirch the fair canteen by pilfering its stocks.
As my spectral wraith flits unseen amongst you thankless scholars, I have witnessed transgressions beyond imagination. Time and time again has a student eaten his fill of southwestern vegan patties and Cajun chicken pasta, only to surreptitiously obtain a box of takeout and stuff it until it overfloweth with beaf medallions and many a bountiful legume. How many a greedy pupil have brazenly stuff’d their pockets with oyster crackers and the prized oriental kiwi-fruit? Who among you knows?
I suspected at first that the fine students of this institution were simply unaware of the restrictions on what may be removed from the dining room, but I was dismayed to discover ample signage to make the latent plunderer aware that this vast quantity of exotic citruses and bananas exceeds the permissible one.
Nay, these heinous acts of thievery can be nothing but deliberate.
I say to those who dare to filch foodstuffs from this faire eaterie: be warned! Your peers may not see you pouring plate after plate of grilled-cheese sand-whiches and brown rice pilaf into your knapsacks. Dining Services may not see you, slipping in through the centre door, but I do! And the flames of the abyss will lick your tender loins for all eternity! Booooooo!
