A Depraved Scene Among Our Youth
A dangerous development, for the state of the youth and the nation, has taken place in the kitchens of this campus. Members of this community have been caught by the authorities for insidious and distasteful acts.
The Surreal Times sent its chief gastronomic correspondent to report on the sheer gaseous suffering caused by this atrocious act.
Chef Xenu Zorelli, in search of the dens that hold such depravity, was baffled by the secrecy involved with this nefarious activity. Zorelli’s sources clammed up. People and puppies alike avoided his attempts at an interview. Mothers with baby strollers sped up as they saw his tall chef hat approaching.
Zorelli, dismayed with the unwashed masses’ reaction to his presence, persisted forward with his journalistic zeal. The Surreal Times would not be where it was yesterday without Zorelli’s credibility and persistence. But I digress.
He decided that other methods must be used to extract the necessary information from the people of this planet. Using his award-winning sniffer, he snuffed and huffed around corners and alleys, searching in vain for the noxious fumes. After no success, he switched to staring into to passerby’s’ eyes in search of tears or redness—a sure sign of depravity.
“Hey you there!” Zorelli shouted at a passerby on the sidewalk.
“Who me?” the stranger replied as he looked towards Zorelli as he approached.
“You know what I smell? Do you know what I see?” Zorelli inquired aggressively.
Trembling in fear and dripping with sweat, the stranger replied with a hurried, “No.”
“I think you do,” replied Zorelli.
Frozen with fear the stranger stood still on the sidewalk.
“You ever hear about the new phenomenon the youth have gotten into these days? Well, I have. And it’s tearing this community apart. Layer by layer the institutions of this community have been penetrated by the perpetually dangerous act of….”
“Of what?”
“Sautéing onions with strangers!” replied Zorelli.
He was shaken by even naming the atrocity which he had sought so dearly to report, examine and exterminate.
The stranger, exasperated by this statement and its implied accusation, began to mutter incoherently.
Zorelli broke the stranger’s mumbling by shouting, “I’ve got to get to bottom of this and locate these dens of depravity. In this community, the air is so tainted with such vaporous fury that even the birds are getting high!”
Unable to utter full and complete thoughts, the stranger signaled with his hand that Zorelli should come with him. Following closely behind, with eyes peeled, Zorelli was led by the stranger to a building. A building by the name of Hammer Hall to be precise.
In the lobby of this drab building, the intensity of the gas increased. Zorelli started to feel nauseous. He followed the stranger down the hall. Then down the stairs into a basement. Desks and chairs were stacked high around the walls of this basement, leaving little room for movement or oxygen.
Zorelli could sense that they were approaching a den of a depravity. He began to sweat. His chef hat was moist and covered with cobwebs. The stranger led him towards a maroon door. He began to open this door….
Blinding white light and sounds of psychedelic tropical music emanated from the slow opening of this door….
Trembling and wet, Zorelli’s eyes at last laid sight on what he had been searching for.
Seven humans, crouched and stood naked around the soft burning of a camping stove. Yellow, scrumptious ribbons of onion swam seamlessly in a black pan. The mingling of black pepper and sweet onions hypnotized Zorelli.
The dilated pupils of the naked mass stared at Zorelli. Zorelli’s eyes grew wide.
“I’ve never seen such beauty in my life…I think, I think I’m in love,” said Zorelli.
Intoxicated, Zorelli stripped his clothes off and crouched near a softly lit stove. His pupils dilated. He cried joyfully.
**
The Surreal Times had not seen him since he embarked on this story. We are not sure about his whereabouts now. This story could not have been possible without the help of the Surreal Engine.
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