You Want #$%& With Your Burger?

By: Jeff Lagasse

It has come to my attention that the media--surprise, surprise!-- isn't always honest in its coverage of certain topics. So, for the purposes of this article I will be implementing a new tool I call the B.S. Alarm. Every time I say something that isn't the truth, the Alarm will go off and alert the reader of my lie. I do this to provide the most honest opinion I can. Let's see if it works.

I am popular and well liked (B.S.!!).

The swim team stashes joints in their swimtrunks (B.S.!!).

Good. It works.

Anyway, on to the subject at hand: the new lunch system.

It's not as easy to buy lunch as it used to be. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the cash register with my tray all loaded with goodies-- from meat molded to look like ribs to french fries that poor Elbonian children use as drumsticks-- and the cashier demanded I swap my ID card or type in my pin number. I had spent the previous three years of my high school career merely paying for lunch with the money that I earned from hours upon hours of hard work at begging my dad for some. My initial reaction was confusion. Why is simple money no good here anymore? Then it came to me.

The new lunch system is actually a good idea (B.S.!!).

By using ID cards and pin numbers, the caferteria ladies can identify exactly who you are; this way, they can be sure that they're not selling food to undercover CIA agents determined to extract valuable information out of Mr. Eastman. This new system also makes the lunch lines move faster (B.S.!!). The first day the new system was implemented, I was amazed that I almost had to run to keep up with the rest of the line (B.S.!!). Every student knew exactly what they were doing, and flew through the lunchroom like a Cheetah on caffeine (B.S.!!).

There were, however, a few exceptions. A few students were apparently sick on each of the fourteen days that the new system was introduced in the daily announcements. I was pleased to see that the lunch ladies were very patient and did not once lose their temper at any of the students (B.S.!!). Their faces merely changed color many times as they gritted their teeth and dumped cow slop into the trays' milk compartments.

The new lunch system left me in a great mood (B.S.!!). I went to my seat whistling a showtune and thought how fast, convenient, and practical the whole system was (B.S.!!). This is a fine system that will send plenty of happy students to their tables (B.S.!!).

Oh dear. Unfortunately, it seems that I'll have to cut this article short.

My B.S. Alarm has broken.