Someone left an empty donut box outside the mail room door this morning. The note was signed “They,” but the staff are sure it was the resident faculty with their weekly clue. (More)
First our thanks to last week’s writers:
On Monday, we were Remembering Our Veterans in Morning Feature, you shared your stories of offline political activism in Things We Did This Week, and addisnana said Thanks Technology! in Midday Matinee.
On the weekend, we celebrated Millennials and “The New New Left” in Saturday’s Morning Feature, Ms. Crissie was asked Who, Me? in Sunday’s Morning Feature, and winterbanyan shared My Doctor Pushes ACA in Midday Matinee and brought our weekly Eco News Roundup in Our Earth.
Note: Please share your stories of offline political activism in Things We Did This Week.
Thus we return to the empty donut box left by “They,” as the resident faculty made their way from the
wine cellar library where they spent the weekend drinking thinking on our motto of Magis vinum, magis verum (“More wine, more truth”) to the hot tub faculty lounge for their weekly game where the underwear goes flying planning conference.
The staff were fairly certain “They” were, in fact, the resident faculty. Still, we assigned our crack investigator to the case. But he got grumpy, perhaps because he hadn’t had breakfast.
“I put macadamias out for you,” Chef said as she sliced the pecan danish ring.
“I saw and thank you,” the Squirrel texted on his Blewberry. “I took them back to Mrs. Squirrel and the kids. They also asked me to thank you.”
Chef smiled. “Tell Mrs. Squirrel and the kids they’re welcome. Unless you meant another ‘They.'”
“No, that They was Them,” the Squirrel texted.
“Did you learn anything else while you were taking breakfast to that Them?” the
Professor of Astrology Janitor asked. “The hot tub faculty lounge is right next to Árbol Squirrel, after all.”
“They were meeting, yes,” the Squirrel texted as Chef scraped some stray pecans into his bowl.
“The resident faculty, or ‘They’ They?” Chef asked.
“Yes,” the Squirrel texted with a playful twitch of his whiskers. “They bought donuts and then tried to cover up the evidence.”
“Not very well, apparently,” the
Professor of Astrology Janitor said. “I’ll probably find sprinkles the wine cellar library floor again.”
“Or on the grassy knoll behind the
hot tub faculty lounge squirrel bath,” the Squirrel texted as he nibbled a pecan.
“In other words,” Chef said, “this week, as the media commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the assassination of President John Kennedy, the resident faculty will discuss why conspiracy theories are so persistently common?”
The Squirrel tapped at his Blewberry. “They will.”
“The resident faculty, or ‘They’ They?” Chef asked again.
“Yes,” the Squirrel replied again.
They can be mysterious when They want to be. Squirrels, that is.