who deserved the complete worship and servitude of the girls who bore him hence

10 p.m. on a dark, cold night. All is quiet on campus, the chilling calm broken only by the exhausted gasps and mad shrieks of two college girls dragging an abandoned Pepsi refrigerator across a shattered asphalt bike-path.

Why are they doing this? You might ask, What could possess these deranged coeds to lug a--most likely broken--mini-fridge heavier than either of them across a shadowy college campus in the dead of night as if the thing were a god to be carried upon a litter of sunshine and soda bottles, a wrathful god who deserved the complete worship and servitude of the girls who bore him hence?

Nothing. Nothing could have made them do this ... except for their previous consumption of an unusual amount of chocolate cake and a retained giddiness from just finishing another deliciously sardonic episode of House.

Earlier on that fateful Tuesday, one of the aforementioned girls--me, actually--happened upon a strange and vaguely holy sight: dirty, forlorn, and covered in spider-webs, a Pepsi fridge. Sure it was filthy, sure it was surrounded by dumpsters and the sad remnants of ravaged PVC pipes, but I knew from that moment that it was destined to be ours.

Later that evening I launched a proposal to my roommates and one of them, a Bio Major and aspiring petty thief (who had previously pilfered only the likes of traffic cones and wet paint signs) agreed to aid me in my quest. Hopped up on sugar and the dry wit of a snarky television doctor, we were off.

The fridge was exactly where it had been when I'd first seen it, glistening and beautiful in the stadium lights of the nearby baseball field, like a glorious pillar of radiance and lost memories of many a bottle of carbonated sugar-water. We held our breath in awe, running our hands over the grimy surface and testing its weight with our shoulders.

This is where we met our first problem. It was heavier than I'd predicted.

Turning and dragging, dragging and turning, we hauled the resplendent cooling machine inch by grinding inch across the jagged expanse of worn trail. We made little progress and were beginning to feel the edges of despair. But then, my brilliant roommate hatched a plan. Placing two scraps of PVC pipe under the fridge, we were able to roll it for short distances at a time before the pipes became dislodged and had to be replaced. Our progress had improved, but the going was slow and our arms were aching from the strain after only a few minutes.

After about a quarter hour we realized that this was not a task we could complete unaided. But then, out of the frigid gloom, two bicyclists rode toward us like shining knights on horses of aluminum and rubber.

They shall be lovingly called from this point on: Guy #1 and Guy #2

These complete strangers parked their bikes and, out of the goodness of their hearts, helped us push the coveted fridge along the pipes. After a while, we decided to try carrying it, since the added strength of Guys #1 and 2 allowed us to lift it.

Heartened now, as our progress had improved dramatically, the four of us panted and grunted through the dark quarters that surrounded the dorms. At one point, more than halfway to our destination, we paused briefly to readjust grips and to catch our collective breath. During this brief break in our divine labor, I spied another potential candidate to aid us in our crusade for awesomeness and defunct appliances. He rode his skateboard toward us as I waved my hands at him frantically, inviting him to join. After scarcely a moment's hesitation he tossed his board dramatically onto the grass and became Guy #3.

Now with Guy #3, the five of us made great time. Like a 10-legged, rectangular bringer of joy we scuffled and scurried for several more minutes until Guy #3 hatched a truly magnificent idea. He ran back and retrieved his skateboard and within minutes we had our god on wheels. ON WHEELS!

Oh, how we flew after that happy flash of brilliance! We sped through the dorms, the taste of sweet, sweet victory flavoring the night air.

We were invincible!

We were amazing!

We only got about ten yards before the cops showed up.

The officer stopped us and asked us several justified questions such as: "What are you doing?" and "Where'd you get the fridge?"

Feeling it was my sacred duty, I explained that the fridge had been tossed out, abandoned in the cold with not so much as an empty Pepsi bottle to keep it company. Not in those words, exactly, but he was more-or-less satisfied with my answers. That is, you see, until Guy #3 started wigging out.

Now, Guys #1-3 were all strangers to my roommate and me. Guys #1 and 2 seemed nice enough, and so did Guy #3, but something about being near a man in blue scared him. Badly. Guy #3 danced from foot to foot nervously as if his bladder were in dire need of an evacuation, mumbling something about needing to be somewhere and just generally failing miserably to keep his cool. I honestly think that the officer would have left us to our own devices if Guy #3's palpable discomfort and mild terror hadn't been so blatant.

Reading him like a book as cops are trained to do, Officer Cop asked for his ID and called it in. “Great” I thought to myself, "Just watch, he's wanted for grand theft auto or poking kittens with sticks or something and the rest of us are gonna get in trouble for it."

Luckily, Guy #3's ID came back clean, but Officer Cop was still wary of our endeavor and insisted on walking us to our dorm, wherein he also insisted to get some ID information from my roommate should the Pepsi fridge be reported stolen at a later date.

We got the fridge inside and Guy #3 retrieved his skateboard. Without even a backward glance he was gone, disappearing into the night still wide-eyed and jumpy like a cocaine-snorting hamster with ADD.

Guys #1 and 2 stayed long enough for us to thank them grandly. At this time, Officer Cop was joined by Officer Sergeant, but no other action was taken against our nearly-completed quest. They conversed for a moment, then bid us a vaguely confused adieu.

Task done and dream achieved, I stepped into my dorm and closed the door behind me. My glazed eyes looked upon the blue, white, and red refrigerator as one would look upon the Northern Lights, or a newborn child, or a fleet of ninjas rescuing a puppy from a pit of liquid hot magma.

A moment later, I was on the floor in giggling hysterics.

The Pepsi Fridge now holds a place of honor in the dining area where we may gaze adoringly at its magnificence while we eat our breakfast cereal, always remembering that glorious night when we were pulled over for rolling a broken refrigerator through the dorm on a skateboard on a cold, cold Tuesday night.