Italian-American student at the University of Tulsa invokes the wrath of God against the menu of the controversial campus eatery.
The ACAC flooded with water this summer session, wiping Gus-Ts from the earth Aiden Hoogstra
Students returning to classes from the summer were quick to notice the absence of a familiar dining option in the Allen Chapman Student Union. Gus T’s Italian Kitchen has been replaced with Wild Blue, an expansion on the offerings of the earlier Sushi Blue. Most have welcomed this sudden change, but few know that what brought it about was a flood of biblical proportions.
According to multiple accounts from University of Tulsa students, a man was seen kneeling in front of the establishment one evening during the summer session, fervently brandishing a large silver crucifix. Witnesses also recount loud shouting emanating from the same man in a gruff, Jersey accent. Most of this shouting seems to have pertained to Gus T’s oft-criticized dining options. One student recalls the man referring to the restaurant’s “dry” meatballs as “blasphemous,” while another remembers him identifying the alfredo sauce as “an affront to God.”
Attempts to obtain information surrounding this man’s identity have been largely unsuccessful aside from a few personal details. The man had a medium build and dark hair, and he appeared to be around 20 years of age. Every witness contacted by The Collegian also included that the man was of Italian heritage. “Oh, for sure,” one student began when asked if they were positive of the man’s ethnicity. “I mean, have you ever met an Italian person? It was like the first thing he said to me when I went over to see what was happening.” In light of this information, it is easy to see how the restaurant’s failed attempts at Italian dishes might have been construed as personal attacks, or even a direct insult to the nation of Italy. Additionally, it appears this mystery man is or was at one point in time a student of the University; in between Hail Marys he was overheard lamenting the fact that his tuition and fees were used to fund such a monstrosity.
The incident reportedly culminated in what some have called “divine justice.” Just after the aggrieved student stood from a knelt position and began to exit the Student Union, a violent rattling sound was heard coming from inside the kitchen of Gus T’s. Several TU employees nearby maintain that they felt the earth shake beneath their feet while they watched in awe as water began to pour violently from every orifice in the vicinity. The fire sprinkler systems sprayed large volumes with incredible force while the sink faucets and pipes did the same. In just a short amount of time, the area beyond the counter of Gus T’s was submerged under as much as four feet of water.
Tragically, TU’s beloved Gus T has been identified as a casualty of this holy conquest. Though it was confirmed he managed to swim his way out of the flooded kitchen, the mascot met a horrible fate when he ignored caution issued by the Italian student as he left the Student Union. There is consensus that Gus T was warned not to look back at the destruction and to vacate the premises or he would wind up “swimming with the fishes.” Unfortunately, Gus T is reported to have disobeyed this command, and was immediately transformed into a pillar of salt upon rotating his large, flesh-colored tornado head. Students have suggested that, if the restaurant were not obliterated, it could have used the remnants of Gus T to actually season its food.
Those observing the flooding moved quickly to call Campus Security hoping to put an end to the chaotic deluge which had started to spill over into the rest of the Student Union. Campus Security directed these individuals to submit maintenance requests as the matter “isn’t really our job.” By the time the maintenance requests were processed and tended to (approximately two business days), it was too late to do anything about the supernatural events of the evening.
In the weeks following these events, TU has started to pick up the pieces. Where Gus T’s Italian Kitchen once stood, Wild Blue now stands. Students interviewed by The Collegian seem to generally disapprove of the methods employed by the unidentified crusader, but few object to the results. After years of torment, TU students and faculty will no longer have to worry if they will have to eat another lukewarm pizza slice or cup of tomato soup just because Gus T’s was the only restaurant open. Additionally, TU’s chemistry department has been diligently pursuing the reversal of Gus T’s petrification, and the Collegian is happy to report that he should be moving again by the start of football season.
As of the writing of this article, there have been no further sightings of the student who convened with God to efface Gus T’s. It is possible that the man could have been a guardian angel sent to save TU from wickedly inauthentic Italian cuisine, but such claims remain speculation without further information.
Furthermore, The Collegian has contacted St. Philip Neri Newman Parish Catholic Student Center regarding the apparent theological significance of Gus T’s demise. They have declined to comment. Still, one cannot help but be reminded of God’s goodness after the great flood when they see the bright, multi-colored nigiri in Wild Blue coolers in place of the lifeless beige mush of Gus T’s pasta.
So, the next time you take a bite of your favorite sushi roll or poke bowl, consider if a supernatural force might not have had a hand in getting it onto your plate. Divine or otherwise, one thing is certain: somebody out there is looking out for hungry folks at TU.
