Disclaimer: This article is published under the Charlatan’s satire section, the Partisan. All quotes and names have been fabricated.
Stowed away in the most unsuspecting of places—for reasons unknown to me—is a cornucopia of fine dining on Carleton’s campus.
On a windy day, when the breeze hits the snout just right, lucky passersby can get a whiff of the wonderful concoctions stewing in this sweet sauna.
On this fine day, I was waddling my way past Prescott when the wind picked up. I scampered over, enticed by scents of moulding Oasis burgers and rank residence ‘za. Jackpot.
Scaling the side of the slippery bastard, I finally got my claw wedged beneath the lid and whoosh. A swift swan dive and I was in dumpster bliss.
The curdling cheese curds and thick rancid oil coated my fur, giving it the sheen it’s been missing. I looked over at crusty caf cookies, calling out to me, “Arnold we’ve missed you,” and “Arnold, come snack on us.”
As I sat on my throne of trash I felt like a king. The aromas, the all-you-can-eat premise and the pals I saw popping in and out of the dining room made me feel at home.
While the dung beetle quartet played in the corner, we reminisced about good times like the night when we were here for after hours drinks and some random kid came crashing through the ceiling.
“Apparently that idiot got a job at the student paper now… no wonder we can’t trust the media no more,” Rodney (the rat) said.
With nostalgia on our minds, we peered up at the patch in the roof as we licked the last few streaks of icing off of a Cinnaholic box.
As the raccoon days of summer (I said what I said) draw near and all the little kiddos go home to their burrows, now is the time to capitalize on the delights of this hidden gem.
Dumpster à la Prescott receives five out of five on Arnold’s Paws food critic site.
Featured graphic by Maryam Teima.
