Last week my editor approached me with an idea (By editor I mean tiny little man that lives in my ESC key and orders me around daily. Stupid little booger). He said, "Sam."

          "My name's Sabrina."

          "Sam, I need you to go on an important mission. The kind of mission that turns weenies into shallow heroic idiots."

          "Why would I want that?"

          "Why would you . . . don't make me do the forbidden dance!"

          "No, no anything but that. P-please, I'll do whatever you say." At this point, I looked up from my keyboard to see someone staring at me as though I had lost all me marbles and was playing a harmonica with my nose. I waved hi, and shut the door; my tiny man (I mean editor) was talking again.

          "Pay attention, you over grown sound stringer."

          "You know, I've worked for you for the past month I think it's time we talked about a pay raise."

          "I was talking! Um . . . what was I saying again?"

          "The secret important mission."

          "Oh right, the secret important mission. You are going to go over to the dorm cafeteria to . . . eat  lunch."

          At that point in time I was seriously debating about just lightly flicking him off the ESC key, but he moved down to the ~ key so I was stuck, "No, no, no, no, no! There is no way I am going to city! Much less, eat! Are you . . . you're trying to get rid of me aren't you. That is it. You're trying to poison me."

          "Listen, calm down. I had this idea last night while I was playing poker with the Leprechaun, the pixie, and well, Bill Clinton and we all think that it is an excellent idea for a story."

          "But, but, but, but . . ." My brain stuck into a continuous loop at this point. It took a good twelve minutes before I could form a word other than but again. "What if I refuse to do this. Ha, it's not like you could force me to go over to Selleck (Our cafeteria, the little booger man and I knew that)."

          "True, but if you don't go through with this, then you won't have an essay for this week."

          "Damn, he's right. I know I could always come up with my own idea." I thought long and hard, words and ideas flowing through my mind at an alarming rate, "What if I dress up like a chicken and fling CD's at people? Wait, that's not a good idea. I don't think it even is an idea. More like an idealet."

          "Just get your butt in gear."

          "Fine, I'll do your stupid mission Mr. Short Little Funky Smelling Person."

          My editor (Mr. Short Little Funky Smelling Person) then vanished in his typical blue lilac smelling fog and I was left to ponder my conundrum. How could I possibly pass as a city folk? 

          I knew that I was going to need some serious help and research. Did I just ask some of the City Campus people I know what it's like eating over there? No. Did I just walk quickly into Selleck and back out and then make up the rest? No, but I really should have tried that. Why didn't you bring that up last week? 

          I did the only thing possible. I dressed up in the most garish outfit available (It was so pink you could have landed airplanes on it) and rode the bus to city. If you're wondering what I did next your going to have to read the next instalment.

         Anyway, I knew that I was going to have to go over to Selleck and, gulp, eat so I went prepared. I camouflaged my book bag with a simple black paint 'cause everyone knows that people over on city can't see black, right? First, I filled my bag with both bottles of Pepsi Cola and Mountain Dew, which I had obtained from our friends at the Union Café. Hey I was going to have to wait for the buses, one to and one back (At least I hope for one back!), and I am sure to become dehydrated and it might scare people off if they catch me sucking water out of a drain. Just a thought. 

          Because I knew I was going up against food on city, I contacted my personal Apothecary. He hooked me up with two pills. One was said to relieve me of any known poisons, and the other was in case I was captured (if you get what I mean). I keep forgetting which pill is which though. As long as I don't wake up and realize that my entire world is a lie of 1's and 0's, created by Artificial Intelligence's trying to eat us. That would really put a hamper on my day.

          What was I talking about again? Oh right, preparing. I swung by and picked up a language dictionary called "So you want to talk to Brainless Zombies." And I threw some other random crap in there for good measure. Just as I was finishing up my lovely outfit (It was pink remember) I heard the telltale heart retching shriek of the bus. I flew down the stairs (Quite literally, that's why there is a nice hole on the wall on the staircase between the second and third floors) and caught a bus with . . . Home Economics people! 

          I calmed my heart through some breathing exercises (I'll have to show you sometime, you plug your nose and wait until you pass out. When you wake up you're totally calm.) I realized that I was trying to fit in with these city people so I quickly thought up three words that I would say repeatedly in conversations; microwave, alphabet, and Quetzacotal. I steeled myself and sat next to a person who looked like she (he?) was half chicken. "So microwave the alphabet with Quetzacotal?" I asked, my voice typically quivering.

          "Um, sure right." Now while one would assume that this would cease all conversations (I now realize where I went wrong in my choice of the three words. Who cares about microwaves?) until we got to my drop-off point, you'd be wrong. This chanticleer would not stop talking. She went from such topics as the color of hair to the nuclear state of matter during cold fusion. I thought my ears were going to fall off, so I held tightly onto them.

          Finally, after about three hours of endless chatter (I can STILL hear that partlet in my head going on and on and on and on and on and on and . . .) I reached my destination and jumped out of the window, which launched me into oncoming traffic. Naturally, I reacted as all squirrels do, by first running to safety then running back out into the middle of the road and waiting for death to come. I survived and drudgingly made my way to Selleck Hall! I entered and I calmly picked up a tray and just as calmly noted that there was no one around to hand out the food. It was all hidden behind a chunk of plastic.

          I started my breathing exercise again but then realized that people may not look too kindly upon a person passing out near any form of food (This is not a Jack in the Box) so I stopped. I became confused and when I get confused I get loquacious as well as garrulous and linguacious. It is not a pretty site. Needless to say the experience ended with me running shrieking out of the place, my tray smashed over my head and some poor city person with Jell-O in his hair and some version of what they call meat perched precariously on his head.

          I hate to admit it, but my mission failed and I ended up never tasting the food, but I hear it's pretty bad so I'll just say that.  The food on City is Bad. And if you are wondering why I have not spoken of how I got back to my beloved home, please PLEASE come and get me! I am stuck somewhere between a large white building and a tall tower that makes ringing noises! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET ME OFF OF THIS CAMPUS!!