JOSEPH MARCINIAK
Assistant Editor of the Scallion
The FSA cafes are soon going to be serving Italian foods, according to the General Manager of Important things.
“We saw the great, really great, feedback about Il Diavolo Blu, and we’ve decided to continue selling more baked ziti,” John Johnson, General Manager said. “I promise, it’s only that.”
However, according to other employees of the cafes, this change is actually an attempt to bring down the giant baked ziti monster in the closet of Centre Pointe.
“Every day I walk in and hear it moaning. Obviously workers are getting annoyed. Every other week I see some poor employee of Il Diavolo Blu go in there with a shovel and start picking at it for the baked ziti,” Kathleen Munst, FSA Union worker said. “It just keeps screaming and screaming. They need to get rid of it sometime soon, or else the students will start to notice.”
According to anonymous sources, the monster was found in the closet over 20 years ago, and only now had they decided to fight it back.
Sources say the monster is a big blob of baked ziti, and it has a giant pair of eyes, a nose and a mouth. Many sources think that when the monster started speaking was when the school really took notice.
The monster is unable to make a coherent sentence and is clearly quite idiotic. Other than random words, the monster also makes a loud screeching sound that has already made several employees arms disintegrate before their very eyes. Why just the arms? I have no friggin’ clue.
One such employee has now devoted his life to speaking out against giant baked ziti monsters.
“They’re a menace to our society,” Armless Leonard said. “Anyone who knows me knows I was a phenomenal painter. Now that I’ve lost my arms, I can’t paint anymore. That evil monster stripped me of my greatest talent.”
Before you read this next section of the paper, I’d just like to let you know I am about to attempt to interview the giant baked ziti monster. If I lose my arms, I will be unable to write and I’ll have to write the rest of the article by shoving a pencil into my nostril.
“Grreg. Greeeeeg!” The baked ziti monster said in a continually louder scream. “Greeeeeeeeeg! GREG!”