by Bradley C.
For the last thousand or so years, men and women have fought, lives have been lost, and marriages have been made over how much Petie and I LOVE the extra crisp Kit Kat. I repeat. Petie and I…. LOVE the extra crisp.
Though Petie might love to claim that the extra crisp is his thing, I have spent decades raising Kit Kats on my own – knowing that it didn’t have a real role model at home Of course, after the Kit Kats grew up to the extra crisp that we now know and love today, Petie came back around, claiming that the extra crisp was his, but we’ve made it work.
So during the Dig, we claimed that we had to go the bathroom at the same time, since there’s no one as tricky as Petie and me. We made our way to the vending machine, even though it took a while, because Petie is the biggest doofus and kept on tripping on everything in sight, probably the reason he was one of those squares on JV basketball.
So finally, after resorting to carrying Petie, since he’s really unable to walk in a straight line. We get to the vending machine, as Petie starts to take out a hammer and a pickaxe, quietly whispering how he intends to “shatter the vending machine” even though I just wanted a Kit Kat.
I tried to hold Petie back from his intentions of “making sure this vending machine doesn’t hurt another soul,” but it was no good. Petie tried to put money in the vending machine in a horribly embarrassing fashion, as he desperately tried to shove both his credit card and dollar bills in the coin slot, confused why the machine wasn’t taking it.
Finally, it took my money, as I asked Petie what he was going to get to eat. He violently screamed to the top of his lungs “EVERYTHING!!!!!” and in mere seconds Petie was mashing all the buttons on the machine as fast as he could, until the machine could not take much any more.
For the rest of the day, the vending machine displayed only “E5” on the front, and Petie and I were unable to get the extra crisp Kit Kats that we so desired.
There were a couple freshman behind us that were dying for some snacks, and did not witness that chaos that had just ensued. Petie and I watched on, seeing how angry they were, as one of them mumbled “…who could have done this” while clutching their fists and holding back tears.
Knowing that we couldn’t face them, we disappeared into a cloud of smoke, taking an oath to this day that we would never tell a soul about what we did. We slowly went insane over the next couple days, thinking that we broke the vending machine for good, and we had no idea what to do with the body-umm, sorry, machine.
So we came to school on Monday, drenched in sweat, and exhausted from what seemed like decades of lying about this. We were ready to turn ourselves into the FBI, since we knew how hard they were coming down on vending machine breakers, however, we were exasperated to see that the vending machine was completely fixed!
I couldn’t believe it, and I looked at Petie to celebrate, as he, out of the blue, had a bright new hammer in his hand, whispering “this thing better not be fixed…” but I chose to ignore it.