The Muffin Man-Handled

I am a thief. I was one yesterday too, and I'm one again today. See, I stole a muffin.

Get your mind out of the gutter this instant.

It is that time of year when those bright-eyed and eager little children I refer to as the vermin that descend upon this campus like a swarm of locusts upon Egypt or Hilary Swank, the pestilence that threatens to consume us all like crops and leave nothing but the barest remains drifting in the wind, finally arrive.

I'm talking about the incoming freshmen.

They come this time of year. They roam in groups, with their parents, all about the campus, running here and there and looking into everything. They buy everything in the bookstore from sweatshirts to shot glasses, so long as it has the name of the college on it. They poke their heads into the gym, into the laundry room, and into the dorm rooms. For crying out loud, they even bring cameras.

Vermin. Pestilence. A PLAGUE!

BAH! I spit on them. And shake my fist at them. Ever since a group walked in on me in my pajamas while I was doing laundry on a Sunday during my freshmen year, I have never had much love for the tourists.

In the spirit of honoring their arrival, the faculty and the administrators have decided to put up fresh flowers, to throw clean tablecloths over the tables, to smile extra broadly when they walk past. This is to give a good image.

And now, we come to my theft.

When these guests come, the front Admissions Hall is decked out in lively colours. It is also the place where a table is placed, sagging under the weight of a large plate of the most delicious food the campus can offer:
- Fresh fruit
- Fresh breads
- Fresh muffins

The last was my undoing.

When this happens, they put out the giant muffins. The put out the muffins that are so large they are made in a bigger pan than the normal ones in the dining hall, all to foster the image that we are looked after here with giant muffins. Well, that isn't true! It is all a lie! There are no giant muffins for us students, just you vermin! VARMITS!

So, yesterday, hungry as a bear and miserable as a porcupine who realized that, yes, the duckies and bunnies are just so much more cuddly, I stormed into the Admissions Hall before anyone entered. I crossed straight to the table and snatched a giant corn muffin, then made my getaway.

It was good. Oh, heaven help me, it was good. It was SO GOOD . . .

I had to have more. When you steal something meant for prospective clients/freshmen, it just tastes so much better. Unless it is stationary you're stealing, in which case it isn't quite as succulent.

But it was GOOD. So I had to have more. So, today, even after a big breakfast, I snuck back into the Admissions Hall and stole another. It is here, right next to me, wrapped in napkins and begging me to eat it.

They're that good. And now, I'm a thief, a fiend, a miscreant. I am a muffin thief, enslaved by my lust and desire for larger-than-average-sized corn muffins, yellow like corn and shaped like muffins and soo delicious they are sinful.

I must have more.