Presidential elections are a bit like comets. They streak across our horizons every certain number of years, leaving in their wake a trail of awe, confusion and the pressing anxiety that even though it’s yet to happen, there’s a chance it could suddenly change course and make quicker work of us than those pesky, terrible lizards. Regardless of your views on big balls of ice, this election season marks a historic moment in American history, as the first pizza party candidate has decided to run.
Receiving backing from pizza joints across the country and promising an end to freezer aisle disappointment—the Red Barren shall take his last flight—Mario Rossellini was set to make a saucy splash with young Italian voters… that is until his campaign was cut short by a mysterious, brown, circular object from the heavens above. And before you ask, no, it wasn’t “a big a’ spicy a’ meatball!”
The incident in question took place at the John F. Kennedy Library on Feb. 19, ironically known as President’s Day. It was at 2:53 p.m., as Rossellini, joined by running mate Papa Gino, gave a passionate speech about the degradation of good mozzarella, that he was conked—yes, that is the official medical terminology—on the head by a downward-moving projectile. As a panicked hysteria broke out amongst the three-person crowd, Rossellini’s body buckled to the ground like a big bag of rigatoni having mama-ed its last mia.
Strangely enough, it was at the place dedicated to a former president, on a day dedicated to all presidents, that a potential future president was assassinated in a similar fashion to the aforementioned former president. However, unlike the assassination of the aforementioned former president, the assassination of this potentially future president was not carried out via bullet, but by something far more sinister. Rossellini was killed by a coconut.
“It is unfortunate that such a terrible fate has befallen our beloved, Mario Rossellini,” spoke Gino in a statement to the press later that day. “But I want to assure our voters that the fight for pizza justice will continue in his absence under new management: Me. And as your president, all crust will be stuffed and never again shall pineapple come within a five-mile radius of a pizza pie.”
While Gino and the rest of the pizza party seemed perfectly content with continuing in the wake of Rossellini’s untimely death, the few individuals who witnessed the event were less willing to forget. Not before long, the fear of the coconut infected the UMass Boston community. Almost instantly, professors began reporting shockingly high numbers of students skipping class, turning the campus into a ghost town. In the eyes of the students, “If it could happen to Rossellini, it could happen to anyone.”
Of course, as with the majority of things that humans cower in fear of, the root of the coconut terror laid firmly in the unknown. Because of this, those who sought to return the campus back to normal operation began attempting to acquaint themselves with the seldom knowable unknown by way of America’s favorite pastime: The conspiracy theory.
“It was an inside job!” screamed UMass Boston student and avid conspiracy nut, Magnum Maximus. “Look, you don’t find it a little bit weird that one of Gino’s main campaign promises is to effectively ban pineapple as a topping? What kind of fascist approach to pizza is he selling here? I’ll tell you what, not one that Rossellini would’ve bought. So what? Rossellini’s former running mate never actually shared the same political pizza views? Does that make sense? Of course, it doesn’t. Unless… Rossellini’s ‘drop-out’ from the race was always the plan, and Papa Gino isn’t Papa Gino… he’s disgraced chain owner, Papa John! But then who dropped the coconut? I’ll give you a hint: Pizza. Pizza.”
What Maximus was alluding to is a war between the five pizza families, the Ginos, Johns, Hutts, Dominos and Caesars. It’s a war that, according to Maximus, has been taking place under our noses for decades, and by taking control of the pizza party by way of assassinating Rossellini, the Johns have secured political dominance over all things saucy, cheesy and round. And if the claim of John having disguised himself as Gino is true, the John family has gained this terrible power while forever tarnishing the name of their greatest adversary. The “checkmate of the pizza war,” said Maximus.
Pizza party representatives have denied such allegations and Gino has denounced any accusation of an ongoing pizza war or the possibility that he planned Rossellini’s death. Still, wild conspiracies such as this continued to fuel the student body’s fear that they too could be conked on the head by a suddenly spawning aerial coconut for doing something as simple as purchasing a slice of pizza from Sal’s in the food court.
However, nearly a week after the event, the truth of the coconut’s origin finally came to light. As told by associates of the John F. Kennedy Library—and corroborated by security camera footage—the falling, fuzzy fruit that resulted in the fatality of Mario Rossellini was a “complete, oopsy-doopsy, honest-to-God accident.” Apparently, a man who was working on the roof at the time of Rossellini’s speech decided to break for lunch. Unpacking the single coconut his mother provided him, he rested it down while he chased away some hungry seagulls. It was then that a strong gust of wind blew the coconut over the side of the building, sending it hurtling down directly into Rossellini’s skull.
Shortly after this revelation, UMass Boston students felt comfortable climbing out of their holes and returning to campus life. However, not everyone was satisfied with the mystery’s conclusion, including Maximus, who quickly took to his conspiracy blog, “The B Files,” to post a story titled “Interdimensional coconuts: The future’s assassin.”
At least he’s having fun.