Every great epic of an amorous partnership has an instance of deep heartbreak and betrayal. Brutus betrayed Cesar to take back the republic of Rome; Eduardo sold out Mark Zuckerberg for a book contract; Road Runner leads Wile E Coyote to yet again plummet upwards of 4,000 feet before producing a massive dust cloud. Just when the train of backstabbing was supposed to dock in the station, Mizzou picked up a crack pipe and bashed it over the head of MU student’s sense of safety.

The new vending machine in the side crevice of Memorial Union is a full-bred pupil pulverizer, and he has an orange license stickered in the front to prove it.

“I went to the vending machine for a bottle of water. It got stuck, so I shook the thing up to coax out my beverage,” recalls freshman MU student, Rebecca Wilson. “I didn’t think I shook that hard, but after a few minutes, I gave up and that monster assaulted me from behind.”

Wilson suffered a broke coccyx, damaged sternum, and a punctured lung; all these wounds will heal in time, but the scars the vending beast left on the heart will always leave a gaping hole.

“I didn’t think it was so much to ask for, a simple drink before class. I was parched. He didn’t need to Bobby Brown me like that,” said Wilson.

Her heart-wrenching tale of a mutual love curdling spread across campus, making students everywhere question their relationships with all vending receptacles.

“This marks the end of my relationship with convenient food dispensers,” said another MU student, Kristen Dickherber. “This was supposed to end with the crack pipe.”

Rome fell to tyranny, Mark Zuckerberg’s personal disposition fell to slander, yet the snacks fall for no man; time will be the only determinant for the safety of snack goers all over Columbia.