Emory Police Department officers recovered a record-breaking stockpile of Keystone Light from a Dobbs Hall speakeasy yesterday evening. The stash, worth an estimated $14 dollars, was discovered in a miniature rented refrigerator co-owned by freshmen Jake Cohen and Wayne Rodriguez. The responding officers apprehended both Cohen and Rodriguez at the scene of the crime.
EPD was tipped off to the location of the contraband by Dobbs Hall resident advisor and Emory college junior Phil Davies. While checking the wide network of tiny recording devices he had implanted in the rooms of every Dobbs resident, Davies recognized the telltale sounds of cans popping, ping-pong balls bouncing, and all around tomfoolery in room 354. When Davies heard one resident exclaim that his opponent should “roll that shit back” because he was “on fire” and “fucking unstoppable right now,” Phil realized the immediate danger to his person and retreated to his room to radio in EPD backup.
“Don’t call me a hero,” said Davies. “I was just doing my job.”
“You never know when you’ll need to spring into action in order to save a life,” Davies continued.
EPD arrived at the scene within minutes, and the officers were greeted by a scene that can only be described as gruesome. EPD’s official statements described “cracked and mutilated carcasses of red solo cups scattered haphazardly around the room” and noted “the residents had little to no remorse for their actions.”
“It was inhuman,” recalled senior officer Tyson DeShaw. “The rookie took one look and puked everywhere. Poor kid’ll be scarred for life. I haven’t seen that shit since Operation Taaka Takedown.”
Rodriguez was subdued using minimal force, escaping the incident with nothing more than a really unpleasant phone call home. Cohen, however, posed a more immediate threat, as his hand was still in the thirty rack on the floor, and the officers felt obliged to use their electroshock weapons.
“We had no clue what he had in there. He could have been about to draw a weapon, detonate an explosive, or pull out another beer can. For all we know, the kid was ready to fire on us, or even worse – crack open a light beer of comparable coldness to the Rockies. We did what was necessary,” said DeShaw.
At press time, Davies was alone in his room, photoshopping a medal of RA honor to be presented to himself at noon tomorrow and sipping a refreshing Bud Light Lime-a-Rita, a reward for a job well done.