How Did This Pasta End Up in the Woods? Students Share Their Theories.

My first instinct was that this time around a Big Anthony from New Jersey had made off with Strega Nona’s pasta pot.

On second thought, I think gluten free activists are at work here. I think the growing group of active local anti-gluten advocates who know that gluten makes people sluggish, overweight, bloated, achy and unhealthy decided to rescue the masses from gluten. They robbed the local store of all the pasta! Being the responsible activists they are, they couldn’t dump the boxes of pasta in an irresponsible way. They removed the pasta from the original packaging and dumped what they believed to be biodegradable material near the creek. They carefully broke down the cardboard packaging the pasta came in and placed it in their recycling bins. You may easily be able to find them if you ask the recycle workers to give law enforcement the heads up when they spot stacks of pasta boxes in someone’s recycling pick up this week! They just want the population of New Jersey to be energetic, so maybe we should cut them a break.

Luca, Julia Reynolds Masterman School

It was a regular night on May 26, precisely 2:03 when John Leezerman groggily put some microwave pasta into his fridge. John was known to suffer from sleepwalking, but recently he had dove into a new hobby: sleep eating. Now, on this particular night, John had put Chef Boyardee fettuccine into the microwave. But, this microwave was no ordinary microwave. The day before, it had been “accidentally” exchanged with the perfectly normal microwave he was supposed to purchase. Boy, was the Health Department of Food and Agriculture MAD! This microwave had been a secret government project, and it was supposed to enlarge things. John woke up to find him surrounded with hundreds of pounds of Chef Boyardee fettuccine. It just so happened that John lived in New Jersey. So he went with a team of 100 burly men to carry the pasta down to the creek. But the men swore an oath of secrecy, so you won’t get anything out of them! The only way to uncover John Leezerman is to confront him at his house in the town of East Brunswick, New Jersey. The city officials were extremely bitter at him for dumping all that pasta, which was also harassing the environment. Police and SWAT came to his house and arrested him. He went to court and the judge declared him guilty. He was sentenced to 2 years in prison and cleaning up all the pasta. And that, my friends, is the story of how all that pasta got in to the creek at Old Bridge, New Jersey.

Bohan, Texas

It was a hot, dusty afternoon in the old pasta factory. The weather was scorching hot and inside the building was not any less merciful. An employee, while profusely sweating and panting, was throwing a stack of papers into the recycling bin. Unfortunately, another employee had misplaced their pair of glasses near the recycling bin on a desk earlier that day, which also happened to be perfectly lined up with the boiling sunlight through the large window. A few minutes later, the papers in the recycling bin started to catch on fire, from the combination of the glasses and the summer sun. The smoke detector went off soon after, and the sprinkler system had sprayed hundreds of tons of water into the factory. Even more unfortunately, the pasta factory was still in the process of making pasta, and all of the brand new spaghetti noodles were drenched with the water from the sprinklers. The CEO, seeing that all of the spaghetti was ruined, ordered the employees to dump the hundreds of pounds of wet, soggy pasta near the creek, where they usually dumped their ruined pasta.

Estella, Daniel Wright Junior High School

I stared, mouth agape in shock at the delivery truck driver standing in the doorway of my front door. “I’m sorry sir, but there must be some sort of mistake. I didn’t — I wouldn’t order 500 pounds of pasta.” I was beyond confused, but the clipboard with the sheet for me to sign had my address and everything on it. I didn’t think anyone would just randomly order that much pasta unless it had been for some big event. “Oh! That was me, I ordered it!” My 5 year old son yelled, rushing into the room. Now it all made sense, but there was no way I could afford paying for it or even knew what to do with all the pasta. “Again, sir, I’m sorry, but is there any way you could maybe take it back?” I was hesitant as I asked, seeing the annoyed look on his face. I wonder how often this happened. “ No, but I’ll figure something out.” He didn’t say much as he walked away, no doubt having his day ruined. “Hey! Mom. that’s my pasta! What’s he gonna do with my pasta!?” To be honest his question got me wondering the same thing … what was that delivery guy gonna do with all that pasta?

Caitlin, Saint Peter High School

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