Crack Team Assembles to Fix the Ice Cream Machine Once and For All


Some things will never be understood. Who built the pyramids? Where do birds come from? Well, fear no more: one of history’s great mysteries is about to be solved. The Val Ice Cream Machine is about to be fixed, once and for all.

The cream of the crop is here to cream this crop and stop that cream from cropping up where we don’t want it. That’s right, the cream team has arrived. Bullshit you say? More like bull’s milk, of the same ilk, as cow’s milk (iced cream). It’s the crème de la crème, here to restart the clock on Big Ben, and by that I mean fix this damn machine.

Soon it’ll be all peaches and cream, or rather, pernil al horno and cream. Get in the queue because it’s time to suckle one by one at the teet of Mother Milk. And oh baby am I gonna milk it for all it’s worth.

I’m out of order? No, you’re out of order, ice cream machine. In fact, I do have an order and it’s “one ice cream please.” Can you make that happen? Didn’t think so.

Still not fixed? How is that possible? Isn’t this a brand new machine? The tease of Madagascar Vanilla is enough to make me cream my jeans, and believe me I would if I could if this machine were in order. But I can’t, so I shan’t. And that’s the Amherst way.

Good luck team. We’ll be rooting for you.

Philosophy Major Cites “Intricate Ethical Theory” to Justify Stealing Val Mugs


Amherst, MA — “Look, it all comes down to Wittgenstein,” said Valerie Sanchez ’16. “I mean what if we are all just brains floating in vats? I’m the only person who exists and everybody else is just a super intricate robot, but they don’t have consciousness, so…you know…they don’t even care that there aren’t enough mugs in Val…”

“AND maybe I don’t even exist. So, like, I can’t even be taking the mug. No wait, there is no mug!” Sanchez concluded, in front of her PHIL 310: Ethics and Society class.

“Thank you for that eloquent comment,” said Professor Alexander George, sipping coffee out of a white mug with a blue ring around it, which he got “at a yard sale.”

Trapped in the Val Booth Chapter 1


Six o’clock in the evenin’
I’m stretchin’ and eatin’
In a Val booth on my own
When a voice yells, “Can I sit here? You’re all alone.”

Then a girl sits across from me
Don’t know this person, can I get free?
But then her friends sit down
I move over, trying not ta frown

Like, what have I done?
I wish that I could run
Now I’ve got this dumb look on my face
How could I be so stupid to have sat in this place?

Must of lost track of time
Oh, what was on my mind?
When I entered the Val throng
Didn’t plan to stay this long

Now here I am tryin’ to put on my jacket
Searchin’ for my I.D., tryin’ not to make a racket
Then another girl slides in too
I say, “Sorry can I get pass you?”

She says, “Come on now, don’t be sour
I’ll be done in less than an hour”
Stared at her like she was crazy
Said, “Look, I know everyone’s lazy

“But I have a lot of stuff to do
So please just let me get through”
She says, “You can’t go this way
Look more of our friends are coming to stay!”

Still don’t know anyone at this table
Would leave if I was able
For now, I guess I’ll just keep quiet
Wait I’m still hungry—I hate this Val booth diet!

Maybe I can slide under?
Would these people notice, I wonder?

Shit! someone sees what I’m doing
I sit back up; pretend I’m still chewing
And then I think I can climb out on top
Nope, this orange covering makes me stop!

So now I’m in the booth, like man, what the fuck is going on?
Who are they even talking about?
Never even heard of this guy named Sean.

So sick of this dinner conversation
The inside of this booth is the worst location
Plus I feel like I’m dyin’ of starvation

Then the people next to me get up to look for Sriracha
This is my moment, freedom—I finally gotcha
And just when I think I can slip out
This big guy sits down; yep, he blocks my route

He starts arguing with a girl sitting across
I try to interrupt, but I’m at a loss
They’re a couple, havin’ a meetin’
The guy thinks the girl is cheatin’

And then he suddenly notices me
Oh god, now I have to flee
He says, “Have you been seein’ this one, too?”
She says, “No, I would never cheat on you.”

I say, “I’m sorry I don’t know you guys”
He says, “Don’t tell me all your stupid lies”
I say, “Look, I never even met her”
And I pull out my Beretta.

I say, “I really need to leave
Could you just stand up please!?”
He says, “This ain’t gon’ fly!
I gotta know the reason why
You’re sitting in this Val booth
And we’re not leaving ‘til I know the truth”

So, yeah I’m in this Val booth
Pretty much trapped in this this Val booth
Guess I’m never leaving this Val booth (Val booth…)

“Frontroom?”—We Sent Three Athletes into the Depths of Val and Here’s What They Found


“I honestly don’t know what to expect,” remarked varsity soccer player Robert Bukataman just before leaving his typical “Backroom” table; or, as he refers to it, “the room.”

“Usually I head in through the door, straight to the food, and then that’s that. You head for your drink and the room is right there. Is there—what you’re telling me is that there’s something in between the entrance to Val, and…and where we actually get the food?”

What he found was so much more.

Not only was there a so-called—and what he believes to be thus-far uncharted—“Frontroom,” there is also an area of Valentine Dining Hall above the food, an area Bukataman’s taken to calling “Upland.”

Based on rumored changes to Val in previously unknown territories and in the general spirit of exploration, Bukataman traveled with two other varsity soccer members to the exotic Frontroom, a land at first glance completely inhospitable and occupied by unfriendly tribes.

“Well, yea,” reflected one of the fellow soccer-explorers. “We’ve been thinking about moving after they took down the painting because, you know, maybe they moved it to somewhere else and then we could still eat by it. Or, maybe we’d find more seating. It can get a little crowded back there. But I never expected all this.”

Within the new territories of the “Upland” and “Frontroom” resided a variety of peoples that—based on the athletes’s research—congregated into distinct but essentially overlapping tribes. These tribes have been known to call themselves by the names “GAPers,” “Outties” and “People on the Frisbee Team”. Additionally—and perhaps most fascinating of all—they bore witness to the strange habits and traditions of these native peoples, including a pseudo-sport known as “Applefork,” and a day celebrating smug self-satisfaction called “Meatless Monday.” Communication with these tribes has been difficult; their dialects, though somewhat similar to the athlete’s, are distinctly crunchier and more ironic.

“It was just kinda confusing. Like there seemed to be some people in the Frontroom that wanted to be athletic, but clearly they’re not on any real team. And it’s like, have they always been there? What have they been doing with their time? Honestly I have more questions than answers at this point,” Bukataman relayed.

Unresolved still is the exact native composition of the Upland, which—while featuring tables reminiscent of the room’s—had a mix of people that were either too quiet or slow-moving to categorize.

Already, however, the soccer members are being praised for their Lewis and Clark-like efforts, which have opened up new possibilities for interactions, and even the lucrative trade of such items as Sriracha bottles.

“At the end of the day, though, none of this would have been possible without the help of our native guide, the noble Rebecca, of the NARP peoples. Maybe one day our peoples will bond with their peoples, and perhaps even mix in one of Amherst’s four dormitories: Crossett, Pond, Stone, and Coolidge.”

Posted in Val

Did Val’s ‘Yogurt and Cereal Night’ Really Happen?

Chief Amherst Correspondent reporting from on the scene in the Scott House Counseling Center


It is a conversation that has played out many times across campus recently.

“Yeah dude, stress will do weird things to you,” begins one student, “it gets really bad for me near finals. I remember at the end of last semester, actually, I had the strangest  fucking stress-dream. They were serving cereal and yogurt in Val at like 10 o’clock. It was super dark and depressing, and everyone was just ambling around like zombies with cups full of raspberries.”

“Wait…” replies another student incredulously, “was there—was there a giant Trix rabbit there?”

“Yea, how did you know?”

“I…I had the exact same dream.”

And so too, it seems, have dozens of other students. Details of the event have been recalled with varying certainty in front of a variety of Amherst College counselors, therapists, and psychoanalysts; but there remains a solid consensus on a certain set of facts surrounding this supposed ‘Val Yogurt and Cereal Night’: there were lots of berries, there was granola, there were bags—bags—of yogurt, there were temporary tattoos of beloved cereal characters, there were students, aimlessly and sluggishly wandering about under dim lighting, and, of course, there was the rabbit.

A big Trix rabbit.

A goddamn man-sized Trix rabbit.

Why was it there? Nobody knows for sure. But, as the consensus grows, it becomes harder and harder to deny that it definitely was there and that this definitely happened.

The agreement between students on these specific details is surprising to a point past mere coincidence, leading some (this author included) to believe that Val’s Yogurt and Cereal Night may have actually been a real thing, and not the sugar-induced, fever-dream of a madman, as I once thought.

Student, counselors, and other experts have developed several theories to explain the mysterious, and mass-psychotic, night-terror event. The most popular involves a group dream-hypnosis scheme supposedly cooked up by inception psychologists at the General Mills Corporation. And though more outlandish theories have implicated or involved Suzanne Coffee, others have ranged from bad mushrooms trips, to black ice trips, to expired ancient grains, and to former dean Torin Moore.

Toilet Paper Shortage Ravages Campus

James Third Floor Stall

SECOND FLOOR BATHROOM OF GARMAN, Amherst, MA. – The Amherst College campus was rocked Tuesday morning by news that enchilada night at Val had created a dire toilet paper shortage in all campus restrooms.

“Most bathrooms are already empty,” reported a desperate Kathleen Radke ’17.

In an all-school email, Environmental Health & Safety Manager Richard Mears advised students, faculty, and staff that the College would begin rationing toilet paper with Grab-N- Go meals. Students in need of additional resources are advised to “make use of local restaurants or the early Autumn foliage,” said Mears.