The Lemonade: Guy Fieri Found Dead on Front Campus

By Clay Garland

Last week, Georgia College was treated to a guest chef, the world famous Guy Fieri. However, one would not know that judging by the attendance of the event. No one showed up to see Guy Fieri except for me and the local PETA chapter. Eventually they started setting things on fire, so after the police left, it was just Fieri and me. He made enough food for a small army to have to go to battle on mobility scooters. Since he was very sad and very hungry, and since no one else showed up, it was hard to conduct the interview through his eating.

“What is that, exactly?” I said.

“This is- mmmagh- this is a bleu bacon bomb. Great for apps and naps, not for saps!” Fieri said.

“What was your early career like?” I asked.

“It was great… I made a lot of – [he began to sob into a bowl of Mac Daddy Mac N’ Cheese] why don’t they like me? I just-mrawrp- I want to be acknowledged. I know they notice me,” Fieri sobbed.

“Yes, I think they do too… Perhaps it’s a lack of understa-“

“JUST LOOK AT THE BOLD FLAVORS,” Fieri interrupted.

“I can’t-“

“AW LOOK AT THE EXPLOSION OF SAUCE,” Fieri screamed as he finished the cheese.

“I can’t taste with my eyes, sir,” I replied.


He then bolted out of the dining area with a catering pan filled with some Big Bud’s Beer Can Chicken and took to the streets screaming “Lighter fluid is for losers!” and “I got some porchetta you won’t wanna forgetta!”

Though he had to pause and lie down on the sidewalk to catch his breath a couple of times, it was truly jarring for the people who were accosted by Fieri’s word-punches of flavor. On front campus he began throwing chicken at students and professors passing by screaming “Look at me dad! Open your eyes and look at me!” Eventually he cleared the entire area of people and I was left alone to witness Fieri rolling around in the dirt repeating the opening monologue for “Dinners, Drive-ins, and Dives” through his tears and mouth-fulls of delicious beer chicken.

“Guy, let’s go to my office and talk. It’s right over there,” I pleaded.

“No, Clay… It’s time to finally go to Flavortown,” Fieri said as he gazed away.

“Wait, what?” I asked while looking down at a dying Guy Fieri.

That is when I saw the life go out of his eyes as he slipped away to a land only he believes in. The family has requested for people not to send flowers, but “MONEY”

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