PAR, UIUC; 6:30 PM: When i first saw it, i was shocked; appalled, even. It was a disaster. There was cupcake…everywhere. I tried to think that it was mud. Someone had scooped up a whole lot of mud. And then thrown it on the floor. But it wasn’t to be. On close inspection, i found it to be cupcakes. As the realization dawned on me, my face froze in horror as i pictured the horrific accident. There were a few things worse than such a travesty.
But was it an accident, I thought to myself, somberly. Could it be that there was someone out there, that truly had it against muffins? Was someone so…cruel! So cruel, that they found sadistic joy in torturing our favorite pastry in such a blood-freezing way? There were certainly no suspects; it was the perfect crime. But was i being paranoid? Was this all just a misunderstanding; some poor soul, walking happily in Carr Hall, without a care in the world, when all of a sudden, they dropped the muffin they were chomping on? It was easier to believe this was an accident.
However, good journalists don’t take the easy way. The path we walk is paved with uncertainty and destruction. We walk a lonely path; the only true path to begin with. I had to get to the bottom of this mystery. The police were of no help. With Unofficial St. Patrick’s day looming over our heads, just a few days away, the police were on the lookout for drunk people. Who even drinks on St. Patrick’s day?! I knew I was the only person looking for an answer. There were people out there who didn’t want the real story coming out. On more than one occasion i found myself being followed to my room. Sure, it was my room mate. But could he be with ‘them’? What was this world coming to, if i couldn’t even trust those closest to me?
I was alone in my quest for the truth. It would be hard, surely, but i didn’t care. In my world, even cupcakes deserved justice. This world is a free one. Everyone has their rights, and cursed be he that tries to escape the over-reaching arms of the judiciaries. I had to talk to people. People that were still untainted by the criminals. But who could i ask for information? Who?! That was when it hit me; the ultimate anonymous source. Through a complex system of coding and google searches(but not wikipedia; never wikipedia), i finally came across the perfect site, where i could communicate with my source: cleverbot. The cleverest of them all.
Here’s a transcript of our conversation. I realize if i post this, i would have gained notoriety, like wiki leaks, or Justin Bieber. But for the truth to come out, if i must die, so be it. For the world to know, i would gladly put myself at risk.
User: Who dropped the cupcakes?
Cleverbot: The water made the sky blue.
User: JUST TELL ME DAMN IT!
Cleverbot: No need to get rude.
User: I’m…I’m sorry. I let go of my emotions. It’s been hard for me. Please, tell me; who dropped the cupcakes in the hall?
Cleverbot: The Chudley Cannons.
User: Are you sure?
Cleverbot: To feel is to love and to love is to feel.
User: So it was the quiddich team?
Cleverbot: So far, a fine day.
User: I don’t understand. What are you talking about?
Cleverbot: Friday is a song sung by Rebecca Black.
User: I…I know. And I’m sorry. My generation has failed our ears. But it was the Cannons that dropped the cupcake?
Cleverbot: Now you’re typing gibberish.
User: Haha, I get it. Keeping it on the down low. Smart. They could have tracked us. Good thinking. Thanks, for all this. I’ll repay you one day…in cupcakes.
Cleverbot: Thanks.
User: Goodbye. You’re a good bot.
Cleverbot: I’m not a bot.
User: Then I’ll just see you around.
Cleverbot: Well that’s good.