Our school mascot was/is the Flames. As in fire. It's supposed to be all pentecostal and charismatic, I guess, but I've always thought it to be lacking. I think we used to be the Vikings back in the 1950s, but I guess it was too violent. Or too Nordic. I don't know.
So, because of the mascot we had this fountain with a gas-lit "eternal" flame in the middle. Only it wasn't eternal, because I think it blew out more often than it was actually lit. Anyway, on one particularly cold night, Anna and Rachel and I observed the fact that we had an extra bag of marshmallows, for whatever reason. We also observed that, if we bent a couple of metal clothes-hangers, we'd have the perfect equipment for roasting said marshmallows.
And thus it began.
The eternal flame was right across the street from our dorm, so we bundled up, slipped on hoodies for anonymity, and strolled nonchalantly over to the fountain. It being below freezing, the fountain had been emptied and was quite dry, so we proceeded to climb inside and begin roasting our 'mallows. Now, this sort of adventure was highly frowned upon by campus security, so every time a patrol drove by we had to lay down inside the fountain to avoid detection.
We successfully roasted and consumed several petroleum-flavored marshmallows, upping our carcinogen levels for the next few weeks. We figured that we didn't smoke or drink, so a marshmallow or two probably wasn't going to overwhelm our bodies defenses.
There may have also been a few Native American-style fire dances around the flame. To stay warm, of course.
As a refresher, here's the three of us, pre-roast:
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