Deputy Provost of Student Purchases and Receipts Mortono Joaquin Fendelson was violently and viscerally sick as he attempted to consume a quantity of fruit hitherto unseen by members of the human race.
While staff of the Processed Food and Dining Sector of the Royal Institution attempted to break the Guinness world record for largest fruit salad ever, MJF appeared to be on a one-man mission to sabotage their chances, gulping down organic apple chunks and Spanish orange slices at a rate that observers described as “fantastical,” “repulsive,” and “not unimpressive.”
After opening the world record attempt with a brief speech praising “those who pluck the bounty,” MJF, known lapdog of Vice-Baroness Pleathah Mama-Boom, climbed into the giant fruit bowl, already quarter-full with the sweet sweet nectar of passionfruit, pungent mangoes, and juice-filled watermelons, and proceeded to envelop himself within litres of tasty, honeyed fruit-syrup.
“I am, but I am not; we must consume” said the Deputy Provost as he knelt at the bottom of the bowl and threw his hands to the sky with the exhortation, “the fruit speaks, listen.”
Entering first years, already shocked by the sight of a fully grown member of their species intently rolling around in a bowl of delicious crushed strawberries, fresh blueberries, and delectable pomegranates, turned and ran when MJF’s guttural yells began filling the air like the cries of pagan lovers in warm embrace.
“He literally began rubbing banana skins on his eyes,” said U0 History and Culture of Tea Infusion student Bo Pentergast. “I tried to run, but there was no end; the sound and fruit were in my mind. Existence – the world as we know it – seemed to be at stake. ”
While many students tried to rationalize the proceedings, citing ancient rituals, others believed MJF’s retching and gurgling signalled the beginning of the dissolution of the Universe.
“It was when he began throwing up that I knew time as we have known it had stopped,” said another, “the juices mixed and curdled: you couldn’t tell where human ended and half-digested fruit pulp began. What do you do when solid and liquid are united? Mass and volume were destroyed. Only being remained. MJF made us all one with the fruit. The fruit salad is and was us. We were it. But who is the salad? It just is. It just is. Fuck.”
“The noises! The noises!” said Professori Mattias Ungelfort as he ran from the scene clutching his ears, “vocal chords produce no such sound.”
As PFDSRI staff tried desperately to distract MJF with thousands of just-ripe peaches and a barrel of freshly-picked grapes, he paused, looked them each in the eye, and said, “You won’t fucking destroy me. I am the phoenix.”
“Holy shit, that’s what I’m fucking talking about,” yelled froshie Brad Brodiston in response.
A spokesperson for the human species said an investigation has been opened into the origin of the MJF, who remains sequestered in the Consumerist Church of James, nursing his self-inflicted wounds.
When asked by The Twice-a-Weekly what the world record attempt was like, Bulldog Budget-Balancer Mantony Assi replied, “It was like a fuckup. A giant, self-consuming fuck up. And it was beautiful.”