Ruh Roh! Bean Found Licking a Honey Pack and Won’t Stop Humping Rhett
By Martín Akamine-Alvarez | Photo by Tara Mullaney
BUPD recently filed a report giving paid leave for their K9 mascot and beloved campus celebrity, Bean, the dog. Bean has recently been out for about 2 weeks, and not seen on campus anywhere since then.
The Bunion investigative staff, headed by me (self-appointed), got notice of this on the public record, and reached out to Chief Robert Lowe about Bean’s leave. While he dodged our emails, Instagram dms, and handwritten letters I made by hand (asshole), he eventually sat down for a meeting. The tension could be cut with a knife, as I asked, “Where THE FUCK is Bean bro?” Reluctantly, he said, “Bean was involved in a drug investigation on Comm Ave when he had *dramatic pause* an issue.” I looked up from the doodles on my notepad, giving him an intimidating stare down. He continued to dodge questions, despite me pacing around his office and banging my fists on his desk like a baby. Chief Lowe was no use, but he did give me Bean’s address, so I took matters into my own hands. I buttoned up my trench coat to the top, placed my wool fedora squarely on my head, and bolted out to get to the bottom of this mystery.
As I was on the T to Allston, hotboxing the car with my old fashioned pipe, I reviewed the facts of the case. Many questions swirled around in my detective mind as the monocle I bought continuously fell out while trying to read my notes. Where is Bean? Why was Chief Lowe so mysterious and wouldn’t give me any information on her whereabouts? If it was really a medical issue, why haven’t they started a gofundme for her? Was Chief Lowe trying to fucking flirt with me??? I eventually got kicked out for making everyone else cough from my smoke, and walked through the rain down the Allston streets.
Finally, I reached her home, and as I walked to the front door, I could smell something. Something sweet, something familiar, it was pure honey. I knocked on the door. Nothing. I knocked again, and finally someone peered through the window. Seconds later, I heard 5 locks unlock, and Rhett, of all people, opened the door. Shocked doesn’t even begin to cover it, especially after seeing him wearing a scarlet silk robe which said “BC sucks” on the back. “I’d like to talk to Bean, Rhett. Where is she?” Rhett smirked, and looked slyly around the room. I took a glance past his shoulder, and saw the room was completely trashed! Couch pillows destroyed and on the floor. Dog treats, leashes, and dog harnesses all over the place. It looked like an average room on the third floor of Rich. I looked back at Rhett, and noticed the bites and hickeys on his neck. “What have you done to Bean??!!” I screamed, worried for my candescent canine queen.
“What have I done to her??? You should be asking what she’s done to me!” Rhett exclaimed. Bean eventually came to the door, wearing a matching (and fabulous) silk robe, with “Nuck Fortheastern” stitch on the arms. I was in a tizzy.
Eventually, they let me in, and despite the horrible smell of wet dog, my detective work was able to resume. “Why are you on paid leave, Bean? Does our tuition dollars and social media engagement mean nothing to you??” Rhett put his paws around her as she looked down.
“Well it all changed last week on a drug bust,” Bean started. She told a story about chasing students who had stolen honey packs from a local gas station. She wasn’t aware of what was in them, so to test the honey packs for drug residue, she licked them off the street, and believed there were no drugs. Safe to say, that night Rhett received a text from Bean: “U up?” Since dogs have a much smaller digestive system, the honey pack was still affecting Bean. Disgusted, I gathered my detective materials, put on my cap, and went home with my head held high. Another mystery solved by The Bunion (even though I wish I hadn’t).