Benson Center – At 3:15 pm on Thursday, freshman Dave Sours began his weekly afternoon ritual, venturing into the local watering hole otherwise known as Moe’s Southwest Grill. There he placed an order for “the usual”: An Earmuffs Burrito Bowl with brown rice, ground beef, black beans, pico de gallo, queso, sour cream, and lettuce for health.
As Freshman Sours explored the depths of his burrito bowl, he considered the exploration of Benson itself. “I’ve seen the cafeteria and the bathroom, but what else is there?” he asked himself. He feverishly stomped up the staircase with a newly discovered zeal. The lid on his to-go Moe’s Burrito Bowl was holding on for dear life with each step.
Stomp.
Stomp.
Stomp.
“Holy Guacamole!” Sours exclaimed upon reaching the second floor of Benson, knowing fully well that Guac was not included in his Old Gold. Sours had discovered a plethora of chairs for students to sit at and tables for them to work. Incredible! Sours was absolutely floored.
Liquid was dripping its way out of the Moe’s lid, but in his excitement, Sours hardly noticed. Like following animal paws in the woods, anyone could know exactly where Sours had been by following the blend of pico drippage and sour cream. He stumbled upon the art collection, perplexed. He looked closer, admiring a post-war print.
Just like that, Sours remembered that he hates art.
In the midst of his angry whirl, he slipped on a pool of his own Moe’s juice dripping from his bowl. An amalgamation of semi-southwest ingredients spattered ALL over this piece of art. He looked at the sight, SHOOK.
“My Moe’s!!!!!!!” He howled in anguish.
At press time, neither Dave nor anyone else had noticed the queso dripping on the Picasso in Benson.
Fake Worest 