It was not the way Ryan Walsh ever imagined that they would say goodbye. Yet he knew that, for better or worse, it would form their final and most lasting memory of each other.

As he followed the long, straight walkway into Cornell University's picturesque Arts Quad, Ryan contemplated the moment, within an hour, when he would deliver a cream pie squarely into the beautiful face of Emma Gardiner. In his nearly six years as Residence Hall Director at Jameson Hall in Cornell's north campus, Ryan had never had occasion to do something like this to a member of his RA staff. He reminded himself that, for most people, a pie in the face wasn't the end of the world. It was nothing more than a funny, if mildly demeaning, sight gag. For the pie thrower, it offered a rare opportunity to indulge a mischievous fantasy at the expense of a willing victim, and to step briefly outside the bounds of what would normally be considered acceptable in polite society. Still, it would not be easy to do this to sweet, unfailingly good-natured Emma.

Ryan would never forget the radiant young woman who showed up at his office, two years earlier, to apply for an RA position. Glorious auburn hair fell just below her shoulders. Clear blue eyes illuminated the face of a princess. Her smile was unforgettable. She had a vibrant, youthful glow that would brighten any day. She had been dressed in jeans and a lightweight formfitting sweater which flattered the sensuous curves of her body. Within moments, Ryan knew that mature, well-adjusted Emma Gardiner would be the perfect mentor for freshmen grappling with Cornell's cutthroat, high-pressure environment.

By the end of freshmen orientation the following autumn, they had become friends. Ryan was sure that Emma was quietly aware that she was the object of numerous crushes among the male residents at Jameson. At the same time, he was confident that he had successfully concealed his own feelings. Fall semester turned to spring semester, then summer, followed by a new academic year. Ryan's respect and admiration for Emma only grew. Then, as the long, dreary Ithaca winter began to fade into the first hopeful signs of a new spring, Ryan received bittersweet but expected news. Emma would leave Jameson at the end of the semester and live off campus for senior year.

It was during the first week of May that the fateful email arrived. "College Messy Olympics" was coming to campus. The infamous internet show traveled the country putting attractive, swimsuit-clad college students in totally outrageous and messy situations. To celebrate the end of the spring semester, elite Ivy League Cornell would be subjected to an event called, "Trash Your RA." As part of a fundraiser for a local charity, willing Resident Advisors would have pies thrown in their faces and would be slimed, courtesy of their beloved residents. The show's producer suggested that students from each residence hall could vote for the RA that they would most like to see get "trashed." At Jameson's weekly RA staff meeting, the proposition was met with an awkward silence followed by a combination of amusement and incredulity. Ryan was preparing to move on to the next item on the agenda when an eager, slightly giggly female voice spoke up.

"I'll do it!" Emma volunteered, bravely.

In the days which followed, Ryan kept pinching himself and wondering if it was all a dream. It seemed unbelievable that a girl with such immense beauty, intelligence, and dignity would allow herself to be publicly demeaned in this way. Now, as he reached the leafy, sun-drenched Arts Quad, it was beginning to feel all too real. A crowd of students was already gathering near a large tent in the middle of the lawn as party music pumped relentlessly from a sound system. Carefree shouts and laughter filled the air. There were large colorful buckets and folding tables which contained endless rows of pies. The imposing structures which flanked the lawn seemed to look on in stern disapproval. The impending mayhem would constitute a jarring affront to the serene dignity of the lawn, as well as the intelligence and sophistication of Cornell's students. A voice crackled through the sound system to announce that the livestream would begin in 10 minutes. The growing crowd responded with a cheer.

Ryan scanned the lawn. Within moments, he saw her. She was wearing a white T shirt, athletic shorts, and flip-flops, and she carried a plastic Target bag which undoubtedly contained a towel and a change of cloths. Glistening in the sunlight, her auburn hair was pulled into a loose bun. Ryan had rarely seen Emma wear her hair this way, but it suited her. She stood with a group of friends. Ryan watched as they laughingly glanced at the pies. He could guess the nature of their conversation. Emma's demeanor was unusually animated, as if to conceal a mild but gnawing apprehension.

As uptempo dance music continued to throb, a voice came over the sound system:

"Cornell University, we are five minutes away from the start of the show! After a stressful semester, are you guys ready to bring your favorite RA down a few notches?!"

"Y-E-A-H!!!" Screamed the giddy crowd.

Emma seemed to take the announcement as her cue. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she pulled off her T shirt and shorts. She kicked off her flip-flops and stood barefoot on the soft grass. She didn't seem to mind the fact that her sensuous bikini-clad body was now on display to the world. Ryan wondered if she could have ever imagined this moment on her initial high school tour of prestigious Cornell University. With amusement, Emma's friends appeared to wish her "good luck" before disappearing into the crowd. Then came the words everyone had been waiting for.

"We're going to ask our three brave RA's to come forward now."

A deep, earthy dance beat began to pump in a long, continuous vamp. Cheered on by the crowd, Emma and two other hot girls in bikinis stepped forward onto a blue tarp which had been spread out on the grass. Buckets filled with slime had been lifted onto a platform over the tarp. Three cocky college guys, dressed in board shorts, sat on the platform and smirked as they awaited the moment when they would slime the girls. Throngs of gleeful students, armed with pies, began lining up eagerly. Giggling with obvious apprehension, the three young women faced the crowd. To Ryan, the entire scene felt like a version of some strange ritual maiden sacrifice.

Microphone in hand, J.D. Ross, the young, irreverent host of "College Messy Olympics," approached the first girl. She had dark, vivacious eyes and deep chestnut brown hair which fell just below her shoulders. Her nervousness manifested in a silly, giggly demeanor. She seemed to be distracted by a guy who stood, ready and waiting, holding a massive cream pie.

"It's time to meet our victims," jeered J.D. "Tell us your name, your hometown, and what you are studying here at Cornell."

"I'm Jessica. I'm from Ridgewood, New Jersey and I'm a sophomore Economics major."

"What residence hall are you representing today, Jessica?"

"Mary Donlon Hall."

A silly cheer rang out from the Donlon contingent in the crowd.

J.D.'s voice took on a mildly sadistic tone as he turned to the guy.

"I want everyone to see this beautiful vanilla cream pie."

The guy grinned.

"He's my boyfriend," Jessica explained, melting into giggles.

"Dude, it isn't every day that you get the opportunity to throw a pie in your girlfriend's face! How is this going to feel?"

"Awesome. She totally deserves it."

The second girl was asian. Her legs were smooth, immaculate, and well-shaped and her dark, shining hair was pulled into a short, neat ponytail.

"Give us your name, your hometown, and your area of study," commanded J.D, thrusting the microphone forward.

"I'm Mei-ling. I'm from San Diego, California and I'm graduating with a major in Biomedical Engineering."

"Rad. What residence hall are you representing, Mei-ling?"

"Clara Dickson Hall."

Not to be outdone, the Dickson residents cheered.

"You're looking pretty clean right now, Mei-ling, but, as you know, that's about to change. Do you have any final words for us?"

"I just want to get it over with," she moaned, laughing and rolling her eyes as if the entire situation was beneath her.

Now, all eyes were on Emma. Her beaming smile was as bright as the colorful, immaculate bikini top which wrapped her sumptuous cleavage like a valuable package. A mild flirtatiousness crept into J.D.'s voice.

"Let's meet our final contestant. Tell us your name, your hometown, and what you are studying."

She spoke in a tone of unfailing sincerity with as much poise as could be expected under the circumstances.

"I'm Emma. I'm from Columbus, Ohio. I'm a rising senior, majoring in Comparative Literature with a minor in English."

"What residence hall are you representing, Emma?"

"Jameson Hall."

The residents of Jameson represented with a cheer.

As he spoke, J.D.'s eyes lingered, perhaps a little too long, on Emma's physical attributes. He seemed to want to take his time with her, as if he derived pleasure from the delay. Ryan imagined that, for Emma, it might have felt mildly awkward and torturous, yet strangely exciting.

"How old are you, Emma?"

"Twenty." She answered in a shy voice through giggles.

"In your two decades on this planet, have you ever done anything like this before?"

"No."

"You're looking neat and clean right now, Emma, but you know what is about to happen. How are you feeling?"

"I'm actually kind of excited," she answered with an endearing innocence. "I've always wanted to get slimed. I love my residents, and it's for a really good cause."

J.D. turned to a girl named Isabelle who stood nearby, holding a pie.

"Is Emma a really cool RA?" J.D asked.

"We love her!" Isabelle gushed. "She has the best hall parties. She's a great role model and mentor. She's just really a beautiful spirit."

"You're holding a rather large chocolate cream pie," J.D. reminded Isabelle. "To be clear, just because you buy a pie today doesn't mean you have to throw it. Everyone is free to take their pies home and eat them. If that is your choice, you can come up here and say, "pass" to let your RA off the hook. You obviously have a lot of respect for Emma. Are you going to pass, or are you going to put it in her face?"

Isabelle's answer was direct and without hesitation.

"I'm going to put it in her face."

The delighted crowd erupted. Glancing at the pie, Emma laughed, took a deep breath, and shifted her feet, as if bracing herself for the inevitable.

"I think we're ready to begin," said J.D. "As everyone knows, Cornell University is one of American's most elite private institutions of higher education. We're sure that there are many members of our internet audience who plan on applying to Cornell. They all want to brush up on Cornell University's 'Rules for Housing and Residential Life.' What better way to get that information than from a lovely female RA in a bikini? Our brave RA's are going to take turns reading these important policies from the teleprompter. What happens after that is literally in the hands of our audience."

The dance beat continued to pump. There was a moment of collective hesitation.

"Am I going first?" Emma asked, tentatively.

"Sure. I hope you weren't thinking of backing out." J.D. teased. "It's a little late now."

"No, I'm ready. I'm totally ready." Emma answered.

"By the way, there are about 86,000 people watching on our YouTube live stream right now. I'm sure all of your friends and teachers back home are going to LOVE seeing this!"

Dutifully, Emma stepped up to the camera. Isabelle seemed to be relishing her opportunity as she slowly and gleefully raised the pie in aim. Thick, gooey, quivering mounds of whipped cream covered a deep layer of cool, smooth chocolate pudding. It was all drizzled with sticky chocolate syrup which accumulated in lakes around the edges. Portions of the sweet, gloppy mass came perilously close to dripping over the sides of the aluminum foil plate. As if mesmerized, everyone waited in anticipation for the cruel moment when the auburn hair, the blue eyes, and the radiant smile would be erased.

As an RA, Emma had struck the perfect balance between compassion and authority. Perhaps at this moment she was grateful that she would not have to lead another hall meeting after such a demeaning take down. She brushed a hand over her hair and then dropped both arms to her sides. Then, she looked into the camera and read in a giggly, distracted voice.

"Residents are not permitted to use homemade or other bed lofting units not provided by SCL Facilities. Anyone found in non-compliance will be charged for the removal and is subject to disciplinary action."

SPLAT. Emma Gardiner received the chocolate cream pie squarely in her face. The force of the impact caused whipped cream and pudding to splatter violently in all directions. Thick glop oozed over the sides of the plate and dropped in heavy clumps onto her shoulders and into her cleavage. The crowd erupted in cheers and jeers. A second after it happened, there were audible gasps and a long, collective, gloating groan. "Ohhh" In one instant, and with brutal finality, one of the sweetest girls who had ever walked the Cornell campus had received the ultimate messy takedown. The plate dropped unceremoniously to the ground and Emma's face was unrecognizable under a thick, smothering mask. The crowd cheered, feverishly, as the first bucket began to tip. Thick, heavy green slime engulfed the cute auburn bun. Under layers of slop, Emma shook with giggles as she felt it pour onto her shoulders, coat her bikini top, slide in between her breasts, and run down her legs. When it was over, she stood, dazed, with her arms outstretched, dripping from head to foot. She seemed to have enjoyed the experience. She backed away from the camera, accepting defeat.

Cheered on by the crowd, Mei-ling stepped, barefoot, through a pool of slime and made her way to the camera.

"This is SO stupid," she protested through resigned laughter. She looked into the camera, braced herself, and pushed her way through the random policy which she had been given to read.

"Bicycles may not be stored in student rooms. Bicycles left in alcoves hallways stairwells or common areas will be confiscated."

SPLAT. Mei-ling's face was replaced with a cream pie. It was rubbed in and then smeared into her hair where it stuck like a hat. She had to reach up and pull it down. A moment later, she was slimed. Her ponytail vanished under thick green. Her body was consumed. Now unrecognizable, Mei-ling stepped away.

Jessica nearly slipped as she made her way to the camera. She giggled as her boyfriend taunted her with the pie he was about to throw in her face. Looking into the camera, she made a valiant attempt to hold back giggles, but ultimately it was a losing battle. No one was listening, anyway.

"Residential communities are scheduled to open and close on specific dates; early arrivals and late departures are generally not allowed"

SPLAT. The pie hit Jessica's face with a satisfying slap and was smeared into her hair with enthusiasm. A moment later, she was engulfed in slime. Her once beautiful hair was now matted down under a heavy layer of thick glop.

Now, there was no holding back the crowd. Already covered from head to foot, the three young women stood and accepted their fate as targets in a messy firing line. SPLAT. SMOOSH. Chocolate pudding, vanilla cream, cherry filling...Ryan watched as pie after pie was pushed into Emma's face, slammed on top of her head, rubbed around and smeared in her hair. She shook with laughter and continuously braced herself as if to say, "Oh my God, not another one!" There was a continuous, rowdy chorus of gleeful cheers and long, low groans. Pies were pressed into Emma's breasts and ass. Another bucket of slime was dumped.

Dripping with ooze like a creature from a grade-B science fiction film, Emma wiped her eyes and attempted to adjust her bikini top. Apparently, she felt as if it was in danger of slipping under the accumulated weight of the pies and slime.

As he approached Emma with two heavy pies in hand, Ryan almost felt guilty. She saw him and giggled. She was already so messy that it didn't matter any more. Ryan was glad that he had worn shorts. The tarp was an incredible mess. His bare feet sank into a mixture of slime, pudding, and cream. Obediently, Emma waited to receive yet another pie. Ryan gave it to her with one firm, decisive push. He could feel her face on the other side of the plate. The pie made a slurping sound as he rubbed it in. This was the girl who had been the object of his most thrilling secret fantasies. It had all come down to this.

He gave her a chance to wipe her eyes and then handed her the other pie. At first, she was hesitant. The residents of Jameson Hall understood what was happening and erupted in cheers of delight.

SPLAT. Ryan felt, tasted, and inhaled cold, smothering chocolate pudding and whipped cream. He could feel the enthusiastic force of Emma's hand. She rubbed it in and smeared it into his hair.

When the last pie was thrown, Emma, Jessica, and Mei-ling looked dazed. They stood, dripping from head to foot, holding their arms awkwardly as if unsure how to proceed. Stepping off the slippery tarp was easier said than done. Jessica took a few steps, slipped, landed on her back, and burst into giggles. Emma dived and slid across the tarp, enjoying every moment. Soon, Mei-ling was pulled down and the three girls slid, rolled, and wallowed in the slop. They shrieked with laughter. For a few moments they indulged in silly playtime. Their scantily-clad bodies acted out a wild, sensuous ballet of Dionysian pleasure. After a few moments, they stood up and stepped off the tarp to get hosed down.

"Oh my God, I can actually feel it IN my bikini bottom," giggled Emma.

Ryan held the hose and attempted to regulate the water temperature. When he felt as if it was warm enough, he aimed it at Emma. She let out a giggly shriek as the water hit her and quickly acclimated to the temperature. Within seconds, slime and pie melted away and the auburn hair and beaming face became visible again. Ryan watched as she cleaned around her breasts and pushed slop down her smooth thighs.

"I'm definitely going to need to take a shower when I get home," she giggled, innocently.

"You're a great sport, Emma," laughed Ryan.

"That was a blast!" She answered. "I'd do it again any day!"