Sick Cycle Carousel

Imagine one of those big, grey trash cans, half filled with used tissues, rotten food, condom boxes, feminine products and food containers. Can you imagine that sickly trash smell? The brown banana peels, white to-go containers, dirty paper towels and who the fuck knows what else. The roomie and I just spent the past hour sifting through the trash located outside of our dorm, receiving curious looks by sketchy boys as we searched for her missing retainer. One little pink retainer in a sea of pure revolting, vile, disgusting, nauseating, foul and just plain nasty rubbish. Despite our efforts, multiple pairs of latex gloves, copious amounts of Glade air freshener, and use of numerous trash cans, we could not find it. The roomie was a real trooper throughout the entire ordeal, literally looking through each paper towel and even turning the trash out onto the pavement for a thorough examination. I'm the squeamish type and lacked gloves, so I mostly was there for moral support and was on Glade duty. The suite was already swept various times; every possible place was explored and re-examined. Sadly, we end the night with little success. The retainer still evades us, but I'm confident that we will find it sooner or later. Tomorrow is a new day! But for now, fuck you retainer.