By Miles Borowsky
First of all, I need to apologize. Neither of us thought we’d be in this position—but alas, here we are. Here I sit, at home in my queen-size bed with freshly cleaned sheets (thanks mom. God knows the last time I washed my sheets at school), while you’re about to face quite possibly the most excruciating, arduous, repulsive task you’ve ever been confronted with. I pity the fact that you’re about to spend half a day in the jail-cell that reeks of body odor and Evol Gluten Free Smoked Gouda Mac and Cheese. I’m sorry that you’ll have to navigate across my rug while avoiding the crushed goldfish and large white stains—it’s just milk, I promise. And I’m sorry that you’ll inevitably encounter the SAE pledge that’s been hiding in my roommate’s closet since we moved in. He’s a sweet kid, really.
Before you go in, I need to ask a few favors. In the back of my top desk drawer, you’ll find a small ziploc baggie full of white powder. It’s my powdered sugar. I heard it goes bad if you leave it out for a while, so please throw it out. By the window there’s a 2 liter bottle with the bottom missing, a hole in the cap with a burnt piece of foil resting gently on top. All inside of an empty tide pod container. That’s NOT trash. I need it for my chem lab next semester. It’s important. Pack it gently, please. Under my bed there’s a full handle of vodka. You can stash it in the ceiling. Or keep it for yourself, you’ll need it in a few hours. In these trying times, we’ve all gotta make some sacrifices for those who need things more than we do. And please make sure you pack up all 103 ultra-rare beanie babies on my bed. Yes, I know each and every one, so don’t think I won’t notice if a single one is missing. The dead fish (well, I assume it’s dead by now) can be flushed down the toilet, but keep the little bag of fish food that’s on my desk. It’s green and may be kind of smelly, but that’s only because it’s been sitting out for a while.
If you have any other questions, feel free to call my cell. I don’t know what kind of policies the University has put in place, but for the love of god, text me before you give VUPD the five (5) ID’s from different states that all happen to have my name on them. Good luck. I truly wish you the best in this daring endeavor. Oh, and one more thing. The pregnancy tests are from the same person. I swear.