Gabe - PDF document

Gabe’s Refrigerator of Morality A tale I
Gabe’s Refrigerator of Morality A tale I have to tell of two roommates, one of which was too trusting and the other who was not worthy of his trust. The first’s name was Gabe and the latter will henceforth be referred to as “the roommate.” Their room was dark, dank and smelled of despair, as do most college dorms. They rarely left it except to receive an education which is altogether inconsequential to this story or to life in general, as they are fictional. Due to the fact that they always inhabited the room, the floor was strewn with empty candy wrappers, Chinese takeout boxes, and sweaty socks. This is where our story begins, between a half eaten Snickers bar and a solitary striped sock, for that is where Gabe’s refrigerator sat. Amid the clutter of the room, this was the only place Gabe was able to retain order. It was the sole spot not tainted by the roommate’s slovenliness. All of its contents were labeled and sorted by quantity, nutritional information, expiration date down to the minute, and description of taste. But that was all about to change. Three AM the Wednesday of midterms: rain lashed against the windows of their squalid dwelling, lightening flashed, hunger struck. The roommate abandoned his attempt at understanding his notes on Introduction to Basic Math, his mind too groggy with fatigue. Tossing his notebook and textbook aside, the roommate stood and began his search for food. He thought about dipping into his abundant stash of food, but saw nothing appealing. He checked if Gabe was sleeping soundly before tiptoeing gingerly across to the forbidden refrigerator. Inside he saw a half empty bottle of ketchup, four heads of lettuce and a large honey baked ham. While ketchup-covered lettuce did sound incredibly appetizing, he decided the ham would be more filling. After he cut off two unnoticeably thin slices that would more than stem his appetite, the roommate was overcome with ravenous hunger and devoured the entire ham in minutes. As a precaution, he disposed of all evidence of the dirty deed by throwing t! he bone and wrappings out the window. The next morning, Gabe opened his refrigerator with plans to make himself a delicious ketchup and ham lunch. But peering in, he was shocked to discover his precious ham gone without a trace. “Hey man, have you seen my ham?” he called out in desperat

ion. The roommate jumped at the accusat
ion. The roommate jumped at the accusation, “What are you talking about? You think I took it? I don’t think you even had a ham. I never saw you bring one in.” “No, I bought one yesterday. Here’s the receipt. Look, right there: one honey-baked ham, $12.95.” The roommate cursed himself. He had forgotten Gabe’s OCD tendency to keep all his receipts in a filing cabinet. But he knew a way to get out of this sticky situation. “I don’t think you bought a ham. That store is ripping you off, making you pay for something you didn’t even buy. You just brought in a head of lettuce.” Gabe seemed convinced and the roommate decided it was time to make his exit. Over the next month, Gabe’s food continued to go missing, but the roommate was able to convince him that he was not to be held responsible. He blamed it on anything he could think of: mice, aliens, and Gabe’s deteriorating memory. Over time, the roommate grew fatter and fatter, while the refrigerator grew emptier and emptier. Gabe began to grow suspicious. One night in late February, the roommate slipped out of bed and crept over to the refrigerator, ready to plunder yet again. He was delighted to find that Gabe had splurged and bought a wonderfully large spray can of CheezWhiz, the roommate’s favorite brand of spray cheese. Greedily, he immediately pulled it out and squirted half the bottle into his mouth. Letting out a satisfied moan, he searched for something to spray the rest of the cheese on. Gabe woke with a start to a horrifying sound. His roommate was on the floor, writhing with an empty can of spray cheese next to him. “What happened? Why is my CheezWhiz out of the fridge?” The roommate tried to answer, but only managed a strangled groan. “You ate it? If you’d have asked me, I would’ve told you it was for a science experiment! I infused that cheese with highly concentrated rat poison, to see if I could create any sort of reaction!” The roommate’s eyes widened in shock and pain, “Why would you…? You’re a philosophy major!” “Exactly!” And with that, Gabe’s roommate twitched one last time, and then stopped moving forever. Little did Gabe know that his master plan to exact revenge on his thieving roommate would soon backfire. Smiling in triumph, he picked up a leaf of lettuce and popped it into his mouth, realizing too late that it was covered in cheese.