The Spire

Patrick Ryan ’27

Aspiring wartime choreographer 

(The following is an unedited transcript of Eggplant reporter Patrick Ryan’s interview with Johnson Parts, a veteran of the War on Protein. Reader discretion is strongly advised)

Patrick Ryan: Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Parts, it’s not often you get to speak with an actual veteran. 

Johnson Parts: …

Patrick Ryan: Do you mind if I address you by your rank? I believe you were honorably discharged as a private, correct?

Johnson Parts: Sure… whatever makes you happy, kid…

Patrick Ryan: Excellent, thank you, Private Parts. Now, as we both know, HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. has vowed to end the War on Protein. However, many Americans don’t even know what the War on Protein is. Please, would you be nice enough to enlighten us?

(Private Parts wistfully gazed around the room and took a long drag of his cigarette)

Patrick Ryan: Uhhh, where’d you get that cigarette? You really shouldn’t smoke inside. 

Private Parts: Fine, I’ll tell you ‘bout it. But not ‘cause I like talkin’ ‘bout it, but ‘cause you folk at home deserve to know what’s goin’ on. It was August, 2023. Hot as sin. My squad and I got deployed to the Star Market over the Massachusetts Turnpike. It was me, Major P. Robleme, and Corporal Punish Mhent. 

Patrick Ryan: Corporal Punish Mhent?

Private Parts: Yea, I think he was a French feller. Anyway, our mission objective was to infiltrate the store, extract all proteins, and eliminate all the damn dubya gees we could find— direct orders from the General. 

Patrick Ryan: Wait, wait “dubya gees?” What are those? And which general?

Private Parts: Damn boy, would you quit interrupting! That’s what we called the WGs, or whole grains. And the orders came from General Thomas “The Lightbulb” Dimming. We called him The Lightbulb cause his ideas weren’t ever too bright. Hehe. 

Patrick Ryan: My apologies. Please continue Private Parts. 

Private Parts: Like I was sayin’, we got into the Star Market just fine. My squad and I made our way over to the deli and started taking all the proteins we could find— chicken, turkey, beef, you name it. I was about to put the last cup of Greek yogurt into my pack when all of a sudden, we got ambushed. WG came outta nowhere— one minute we were cracking jokes about how RFK’s gonna give us the Medal of Hunger, the next minute, we were getting pounded by brown rice from every direction. 

(He began to softly sob. At this point, I gently touched Private Part’s hand) 

Private Parts: I made it out. The others weren’t so lucky. Major P. Robleme was suffocated by orzo, and Corporal Punish Mhent got stabbed through the heart with a baguette by the Captain. 

Patrick Ryan: The Captain…?

Private Parts: Captain Crunch. 

Patrick Ryan: Ah, of course. Have you adjusted well to civilian life since you were discharged?

Private Parts: It ain’t easy. Sometimes my wife will be using the toaster in the morning, and the smell brings me right back. I throw the damn thing out of the window in a rage. 

Patrick Ryan: Wow, that must be hard for you. 

Private Parts: Yeah, and my wife gets pretty pissed every time she has to climb back inside the house. 

Patrick Ryan: Okay, I think we’re done here. 

Featured image courtesy of Google Images