Greeks. Nerds. P-Safe. ROTC. My RA used to tell me stories about the old days, a time of peace when the Flyson kept balance between the Greek Tribes, Nerd Kingdom, P-Safe Nation, and ROTC Nomads. But everything changed when the P-Safe Nation attacked, ticketing cars at random and raiding freshmen dorms.

Only the Flyson’s food could appease all four nations. Only it could stop the P-Safe platoon. But when Bucknell needed it most, it vanished. One week has passed and P-Safe is nearing victory in the War on Fun. Two days ago, my hallmates journeyed to the Nerd Kingdom (Dana) to help fight against the P-Safe Nation, leaving me and the cat that lives in the hall to look after our dorm. Some people believe that the Flyson was never that good, and that the food trucks at Bison Sound were much better. I haven’t lost hope. I still believe that somehow, the Flyson will return to save the Bucknell campus.

The Flyson’s disappearance has haunted students for the long, painful period of one week. Some poor souls are stuck in Student Health, in catatonic shocks and mumbling words in Latin due to Chicken and Waffle sandwich withdrawal. Sadly this is only stage one of recovery; soon these children will become delirious, saying things only lunatics would say like “You know what looks good? The new season of ‘Love is Blind’” or  “We should take a road trip to Milton.” Student Health helped these students by giving them cough drops. Students have also reported that since the Flyson disappeared they have been experiencing insomnia, paranoia and panic attacks. They say the pain feels about as agonizing as doing homework without using chatGPT.

On the other hand, P-Safe has used this opportunity to raid dorms under the jurisdiction that they heard there might be a ferret in there.  Professors are worried about upcoming exams, as students are starting to question the point of it all if they can’t get overpriced loaded nachos at 2:00 a.m. Class attendance has dropped as well as the professor’s willingness to teach. Professors have been spotted at Bull Run during the day saying “surprise me” to the bartender, a sign that things are not molto bene.

No one from the frats has gone to class this week, so at least one thing is normal. There are also rumors that black market Flyson Food is being sold to students at ridiculous prices, almost as high as the Flyson’s normal prices. The street corner where the Flyson once stood has now become a shrine to the vanished van. Students kneel and pray at the assortment of order receipts, paper trays, and $40 Flyson Sweatshirts, hoping one day they can taste loaded nachos from the truck one more time. If the Flyson can read this there isn’t much time, and any minute now the campus ecosystem could collapse. Please read decipher this code Flyson, you are our only hope:

.. ..-. / -.– — ..- / – .-. .- -. … .-.. .- – . -.. / – …. .. … / — . … … .- –. . / -.– — ..- / .- .-. . / . .. – …. . .-. / ..- … .. -. –. / .- / – .-. .- -. … .-.. .- – — .-. / — .-. / -. . . -.. / .- / …. — -… -… -.–