Skim Milk Revolution

And now for something a little more silly...

Let's begin with a little background. For the college composition class I took my senior year of high school, we had to select a piece of writing that we had scribbled into our writing journals during the year to put into a class anthology.

One afternoon, annoyed with the cafeteria for only serving skim milk, I penned a petulant story about how much I hated the stuff. While other classmates selected more serious works to add to the anthology, I, wanting to change things up, slipped in my hate letter to skim milk.

I'll warn you right now: it's a little weird. And writing wise, it's not that great. But without further ado, I present you with the inner workings of my seventeen-year-old mind.

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The cafeteria lady was wiping counters and minding her own business, just like she did every Thursday. Only on Thursdays would she mind her own business. On Fridays, she would color in her Disney Princess coloring book. On Mondays, she would drink coffee. (She does what she can. After all, it's a Monday.) On Tuesdays, she would hang out on Facebook. Her favorite day was Wednesday, because she could just close her eyes and enjoy life.

But back to Thursday. Unfortunately, this wasn't an ordinary Thursday.

The door slammed open. A wild eyed kid stood panting before her, a crushed milk carton clutched in his fist, trails of white dripping down his fingers. "THIS IS THE LAST STRAW!" he screeched.

"Um..." The mild mannered lunch lady didn't know how to respond to this.

"THIS. IS. THE. LAST. STRAW." The boy looked even angrier, if this was indeed possible.

"We have more in the back." The lady was pretty helpful as far as ladies go, "Just let me go get one for you..."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The kid threw his head back and screamed. "Why is there only skim milk?!"

"State orders. Sorry. Can I..."

"I can take no more of this tyranny! NO MORE!"

With that, the kid hoisted the crushed milk carton overhis head and dashed out the door. As he successfully accomplished his dramatic exit, the cafeteria lady thought she heard him scream, "REVOLUTIONNNN!" The cafeteria lady looked at the leftover cartons of milk in the cooler. Skim milk was truly disgusitng. How could she, server of nourishment, impose such torture on innocent children? She gingerly lifted a carton out of the cooler. She could do this no longer. The charade could go on no longer. Her fingers curled around the carton. "Revolution," she whispered softly.

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The principal glanced out his office window. The cafeteria was a mad house. Milk was doing the impossible. It was flying everywhere. Kids were doing the possible-but-not-usually-at-school. They were the ones throwing the milk. Along with that, they were shrieking something that sounded suspiciously like "revolution."

What? He wondered.

"Sir!" His aide dashed into the room. "The children have discovered that we've given them only skim milk! It's a catastrophe!" The aide handed the principal the last carton of milk in the entire school and dashed back out. The principal curiously opened the milk and took a sip. He immediately spat it out and climbed on top of his desk, scattering papers everywhere.

"REVOLUTION!"

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Did I mention that I loathe skim milk?

Yes? Good. A dozen times? Even better.