*Indicates a name has been changed for privacy reasons
The South Cafeteria used to be a place where students were excited to eat and socialize with their friends, but lately, it has become home to endless food-based atrocities.
“Throwing food gives you this certain feeling, like an adrenaline rush. It makes you feel empowered,” said John Doe.*
Doe is part of a massive group of individuals who terrorize each other during lunch by hurling all types of food.
“I like my choices with orange peels, craisins, and sometimes even banana peels. Mostly craisins because they don’t quite injure the victim, but it gets them riled up, and that’s what you want,” said Doe.
But if you think craisins, orange peels, and bananas sound bad, they’re actually on the lighter side. It gets so much worse.
“One time I threw a full carton of milk. Fully open so it would explode upon impact,” said Doe.
Even worse acts have been committed by Doe’s peers. Other members of the organization have caused a lot of problems for innocent students.
“For a long time, I dabbled in throwing milk-soaked hamburger buns,” said Todd Smith,* a retired food thrower.
Smith is a veteran in the food game. He is often considered a legend in the sport, but his career had to meet its end for the greater good.
“I got caught twice. What made me stop was after I was caught the second time. Security wanted me to rat out my fellow partners in crime, but after I refused I earned the guards’ respect. I don’t want to tarnish that,” said Smith.
But when you take a deep dive into the psychology of a food-thrower, each perpetrator has a different reason.
“If I see someone that I don’t like that much at a table that’s throwing food, you best believe I’m throwing that milk carton,” said Smith.
While some, like Smith, throw food as an act of retaliation, others just get pure joy out of it.
“It’s something beautiful,” said Doe. “It’s an art. It’s just what I do, I just tick people off.”
While you may think the food game is limited to just throwing, the sport is actually rapidly expanding.
“I prefer to almost play a game,” said Smith. “I try to have such a precise aim that I can land small projectiles in a victim’s ear, down their shirt, in their backpack, or even in their back pocket.”
This new aspect of the food game has increased in popularity recently, becoming a more subtle way of attacking a victim.
“The food game has grown so much since it first started,” said Doe. “It’s essentially gone from throwing to planting.”
Being on the receiving end of the sport is rather distasteful.
“Sometimes food ends up inside of my bag or in my cup pockets,” said Ansel Knudsen ‘27, a common witness to the food wars. “It’s evolving from throwing to making people’s days worse.”
The artists behind these attacks are exceptionally smart. They throw food at people who they know will retaliate and continue the game.
“At first I’m angry [when I get hit], then I question people around me, and then I get my revenge,” said TJ Dumas ‘27*.
Lunchroom janitors and security, however, are starting to crack down on the food game once and for all.
“You should not be throwing food. You want to get in trouble? It’s my job to call security and let them handle it,” said Robert, one of the lunchroom monitors.
However, increased intolerance around food-throwing and food-planting isn’t quite discouraging the students who still remain at large.
“I haven’t been caught yet, and it’s going to stay that way. I’m a master of my work,” said Dan Fred ‘27*.
Ignas Petrus • Dec 18, 2024 at 9:20 am
wonderful