Story by: Renaine Foal (IRL: Joshua Black)

I write this article at the scene of the crime. Dijon mustard drips down the wallpaper like the tears of a baby crying over spilt milk—nay, over spilt mustard. You may wonder what happened and why. Do not fret; I will enlighten you. Last night, I woke up in a fit of hunger. Pains racked my mind until I was worn raw. Unsatisfied by bedtime crackers, I was forced to sidle my way to the student kitchens, desperately craving an emergency hotdog. You may find a hotdog to be strange at such an hour. But it is not. The hotdog is the modern miracle of cuisine.

I arrived at the kitchen. The floor was wet — perhaps the janitor had just come through. But something was odd. The kitchen was prepared for my midnight snack. The franks were thawed, only one remaining, as if it knew I would come. Even the ketchup bottle sat in its place, perfectly still, as per my command. And there upon the counter stood a beautiful sight: my gallon tub of mustard, my name etched upon it. Why it was there, I knew not. But my joy was immense.

I silently reached forward my fingers to grasp the mustard, bringing it into my tender arms. But in the last moment, a gloved hand sprung from the darkness, intercepting mine. I looked up in a feverish fury. The intruder was masked, obviously an effort to escape accountability for their crimes. They tried to take the mustard and run, for what sick purpose I did not know. But try as they might, I could not be deterred! I pummeled the thief with all I had, beating them to the ground. They pled for mercy. Against my rage, I relented. I took the mustard pail in hand, reclaiming my birthright.

As if to take advantage of my grace, they swept their leg under mine, toppling me to the floor where they lay. In near slow motion I fell, crying in despair as I watched the gallon tub of dijon mustard fly from my hands. It splattered against the wall. I looked around. The thief was gone, escaped in the confusion. I was alone, and alone I sit still. I mourn my mustard pail. I shall find the thief. I will. And my revenge shall be swift and terrible.