EVK ICE CREAM

The following article was written in 2003 about the EVK Dining Facility at USC. It's based on a true story when I was a freshman and lived in the Pardee Tower Dormitory.

It’s 9pm and the front lines are quiet, almost too quiet. I am embedded with the 5th Floor Division of Pardee Bravo company and I am reminded by my military escort that “things are not always as they appear.” Suddenly, without warning, a soldier camouflaged in FUCLA apparel darts towards the EVK ice cream bin. Before the dust subsides, he has liberated four innocent fudge bars from the ruthless captivity of an oppressive cooling dictator. “Operation Ice-Cream-i Freedom:” a success.

Flash back, one day prior– I was assigned to cover a story on Freshmen abuse of ice cream privileges at the dining facility Everybody’s Kitchen, better known to students as, “where I found my pet rat.” Allegedly students were taking more than one ice cream bar at a time and building a cache of deserts in their mini-refrigerators. An irate spokesperson from “Fudge Bars N Such” was heard to whisper under his breath, “Oooooh shit, they can’t do that!” His imaginary friend, Bobo, whispered back, “Make more fudge bars!” Obviously there was more to this story than met the eye.

I decided to bribe the card lady, Mercedes. It was easy, I just let her swipe my card all night long. She told me where the troops were gathering for the next heist. The crew was hesitant to accept me, but I quelled their fears by mugging an old woman (and scored some lipstick in the process). Above the rumbling in their stomachs, they spoke to me.

One pilferer ranted, “Stealing extra ice cream from EVK is the closest thing to an orgasm I’ve had since I got here. It’s a rapture that I indulge on a regular basis. Amidst the fear and excitement one asks himself, ‘Will I get caught, and, more importantly, is this sugary delight worth the effort?’ The answer to that question, my friends, is always, ‘yes.’ Because one day, if we work hard enough, we will recoup our $40,000 dollar tuition payment one blissful chocolate bar at a time.”

Eloquent, impassioned, and reasonable, surely these are not the words of a criminal, but of a revolutionary. “We don’t steal the ice cream, we liberate it,” quipped a masked student whose pockets were leaking chocolate. The ice cream militia explained the situation to me clearly: “Sugar leads to obesity; obesity leads to death; hence, ice cream is a weapon of mass destruction, and as Americans, it is our duty to find and steal the WMD’s from other people.

In regards to ice cream exploitation, President Steven Sample was not asked for comment, but you can imagine he probably would have said something like, “Cows, we need more cows!! Without cows, we’re doomed!” He would hypothetically go on to say, “No, no, no, I’m talking about cows!!”

I decided my time for ice cream had come. I paused to ponder what had led me to the depths of commandment breaking and sugar looting. Then I pulled six bars from the freezer. Suddenly, a firm hand grabbed my arm and a booming voice bellowed, “Sir, one at a time, please.” SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!!!