Thank you for reading Carleton Cryptids, where I, Sue Dounim, shed literary light on Carleton’s paranormal problems. So interested am I in delving into this college’s mysteries that I actually wrote about them in my Common App essay. That is how I wound up at St. Olaf for two years.
In between research expeditions, I can often be found recuperating in the LDC, my home base. Occasionally, when my Pizza With Turkey And Mayonnaise does not quite satiate me, I venture to the corridor of pastries, where I take from the unkempt manure-pile of brownies. Whenever I manage to dislodge a brownie, I inevitably unleash a repressed vein of what appear to be fruit flies, which flitter around for a moment before practically dissolving into the sugary air.
Now, you all saw this coming: I am convinced that those creatures are not your common household fruit fly. If they were, would it not be possible to see them before—and after—taking a brownie? Would they not seek out other pastries besides brownies? And, most importantly, unless I am unaware of some grotesque Biden-era FDA policy, brownies are NOT classified as fruits. Real fruit flies might perhaps find greater use in the nearby plates of bananas, or the whole pineapples aimlessly sitting on the counter.
We know, then, that 1) These creatures are incorporeal, 2) They are somehow bound to the brownies, and 3) They cannot betray the brownies. Once again, reader, I must venture that only spirits could possibly fulfill all of these criteria. Specifically, S. Saccharinia, a tiny, fearful spirit that grants flavor to that which lacks it.
These ghosts bear no ill intent. Keenly sensitive to emotion, they come when they detect disappointment with the food. They then settle on the trigger item and imbue it with whatever flavor its consumers expect it to have. They are particular about their work: When summoned to a specific food, they will not service any other (unless they get confused). Should they be moved in the middle of work, they will panic, fly around screaming inaudibly, and disapparate.
So, readers, fear not these “flies.” They are aware of you, and of their work. They have sensed the student body’s eminent disappointment with LDC brownies and will stop at nothing to weave deliciousness back into their flavor profile. Next time you see them flitting about the pile, consider offering them some words of encouragement or tossing a coin. After all, they work to make your life sweet—why not sweeten the deal?
Unfortunately, they’re not very good at their job. Because those brownies are still terrible.