Many Carls have seen the mass of frisbee players who descend on LDC and Burton in a giant swarm at 6:45p.m. every Tuesday and Sunday and steal all of the chicken, milk and pepperoni pizza. But not everyone knows why. Before this frightful occurrence, players on Carleton Ultimate Team (CUT) go to practice at “dome.”
Perhaps it’s a Sunday afternoon and you’re wondering why the gym is so quiet without a full D-Line formation of frisbee players exercising on the floor in front of the weights. Maybe you’ve asked your frisbee-playing roommate where he’ll be for the next seven full hours. Perhaps the weak link in your group project can’t meet because he “has dome.” Perhaps, like so many of us, you’ve asked yourself, what is “dome”? What are they training for? Why are they there for so long?
If you ask a CUT player, they’ll tell you it’s an indoor recreational facility in Faribault. What they won’t tell you is that it’s actually a massive conspiracy where they become fortified with superhuman strength and magical frisbee powers.
Murmurs among the student population claim that under the cover of dark CUT assembles into a perfect formation, chanting “IDGAF” by Drake feat. Yeat. in unison before climbing onto a bus in front of Willis. “Dome” is allegedly only 30 minutes away, yet on Find My, players’ locations disappear when the bus crosses the southern boundaries of Northfield…only a daunting “No Location Found” message and perpetually spinning wheel remains to haunt their narp friends and situationships.
The mystery continues. In games, CUT players have been spotted floating several inches above players of the opposing team and running at remarkable speeds. On campus, they’ve been spotted throwing hucks from Stadium to Duerr Field. Somehow, they’re now all ambidextrous, writing in class, albeit minimally, with both hands. In Burton, they’ve been spotted eating a truly astonishing number of cold cuts. They’re even developing a military-like uniform: booty shorts, those weird-looking North Face slippers, a big fat beanie perched precariously atop a kind-of mullet and at least one hoop earring or diamond stud. They even have matching tattoos in some super peculiar locations.
In search of answers, some Carls embarked on a research mission and witnessed a mysterious glowing blue orb in the distance to the south. However, the administration refuses to acknowledge dome’s existence, claiming it is simply an indoor facility, an opportunity for frisbee players to improve their skills over the winter before the fields thaw.
Perhaps we will never know the truth about “dome.” Just remember to be grateful on every Tuesday or Sunday afternoon as you have the chance to use the preacher curl machine at the gym, eat a piece of rock-hard LDC chicken, or can see the board in class without a big wool beanie blocking your view.
