Natrat exclusive: Scotch'n'Soda is actually an Andrew Mellon cult

Upon a recent check of everyone’s favorite organization website, “The Bridge,” I stumbled across a little-known organization called “Scotch’n’Soda.” I was very curious to learn that such an upstanding university like Carnegie Mellon would allow a club to have such a name. An alcoholic reference at my prestigious university? Surely not! As such, I decided to look at this dastardly organization a bit more.

Once I was aware of the name, I started to see it everywhere. There were posters on the walls of nearly every building advocating for this organization. Sometimes they even went by other names like “Tisbert,” “No Parking Players,” or “New Works Coffeehouse.” What do these names even mean? It befuddled me at first, but I would soon come to learn that they were just guises for the secrets that lay underneath. But for now, I had to find out when their meetings were.

During my daily Instagram scroll, I came across an advertisement for one of their many “performances.” Under the name “No Parking Players,” a couple of the members would be putting on some sort of “comedy” show. Though the organization advertises itself as specializing in various performing arts, I still couldn’t shake that there was something more to this organization. So I decided to go and see what I could find out.

Arriving at the Studio Theater for the show, the best thing I could say about the organization is they have subpar humor, at best. Who on earth takes a word of suggestion like “The Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand'' anyways? However, one thing that did catch my interest was the man who introduced himself as the head of this “troupe,” Efe Cekirge. Though I couldn’t trust a man whose name is just two letters put together, I caught up with him after the show to learn a little more about the operations of Scotch’n’Soda.

“Oh, you’re interested in a bit of S’n’S, are ya?” he questioned. “It’s quite a nice organization. I mainly stick to the comedy side of things, I’ve been dealing out some silly pills for a couple of years now. If you wanna do what we do, we have workshops every Wednesday and Sunday in PH125 B and the Peter & McKenna rooms from 8-10 p.m. So come, come!” Though I didn’t intend to join the organization, I knew I had to go a little bit deeper if I wanted to expose them for what they truly were. So I took Cekirge up on the offer.

After a few weeks of attending “writers’ meetings” and “workshops,” I got to know Cekirge a bit better, and he began to open up to me. “Ya know, Cole, you’re a real standup guy. How about you come to the special meeting later?” Cekirge said to me after a meeting one day. This was the moment I had been waiting for; the whole reason I had even considered being a part of this godforsaken organization. If I had to spew one more stale joke, I don’t think I would have lasted another week.

Later that night, I was instructed to show up to this shady location in a local apartment in an even shadier room I overheard later referred to as “Hell.” As I knocked on the door and was greeted by Cekirge, who was wearing some kind of weird watermelon-printed suit, I knew I had made a mistake. The room felt like a rusty toaster oven and the walls were covered in some sort of weird décor. In the main room, there were some others who I presumed to be leaders of the other subsections of Scotch’n’Soda.

It was here that I finally realized that I had gotten in too deep. In the middle of the room, there was a picture of a man I had never seen before and some kind of pinkish-red goop surrounding the center. This goop connected some candles in a star-like shape, but the lines were a little crooked. I figured this had something to do with theater kids not being straight, or so I had heard a while back.

I sat down nervously on one of the chairs, surrounded by people I didn’t know who were all wearing an assortment of watermelon-related garb. Cekirge, who had invited me, sat next to me and started telling me about the true purpose of S’n’S, and I couldn’t believe my ears.

“Ayy, I’m so glad you decided to come! I should tell you what you’re here for,” Cekirge said. “The true purpose of S’n’S is to revive the name of the true leader of Carnegie Mellon, the man who has been in the shadows for far too long: Andrew Mellon. That damn capitalist Carnegie has been in the spotlight for far too long; the time for Mellon to rise is now.”

It was easy to connect the dots now. The melon garb, the pinkish-red goop, the picture in the middle of the room, these were just a bunch of theater kids who were fed up with capitalism and were starting a cult to reject Carnegie and embrace Mellon. I sat through the rest of their little Mellon-worshiping service and left, determined to never come back.

So in the end, my gut feeling was right: Scotch’n’Soda is a cover for something more nefarious, but little do they know, Mellon was also a capitalist. Even worse, he believed in trickle-down economics. Of course, I wouldn’t expect them to know that since they’re theater kids. But do watch out for this organization; Scotch’n’Soda and all its subsidiaries engage in cult-like behaviors and are a scourge on the wonderful capitalist university of Carnegie Mellon. All Hail Carnegie!