It was the 11th of October 2024. The Uni’s Te Korokoro O Te Tūī performing arts studio sat basking in the spring sunshine. But on this mundane Friday at 4:52pm, a slice of cheese was photographed on a window, just above the entrance. Almost a year later, the cheese slice that had sagged, soured and solidified, has finally been washed off.
Louisa, a 5th year theatre studies student, spotted the cheese. She recalled initially seeing it there, stuck to the window, around the October 3rd floods. At first, it irritated her. How dare this happen to an award-winning facility? But time went on. Soon, seeing it day-to-day brought a smile – joy, even. "If [The Cheese] can hang in there, I can too,” she said. Besides, someone official would surely note it, right?
But "hang in there" it did. Summer break passed – still there! The Cheese survived O-Week and an influx of freshers (carrying much worse germs than The Cheese). Easter break went by; The Cheese remained.
The square slice sagged into a teardrop shape. "Mystery fluid" began to ooze down the window, threatening to drop on innocent, unaware students below. A "harbinger of doom" was hanging above Te Korokoro. Louisa had to blow the cheese whistle. But by the time Critic Te Ārohi was notified, a perfectly fine piece of processed produce had become "truly green" in a sight worse than the insides of a Castle flat’s fridge.
On July 2nd 2025, choking down tears of delight and disgust, Critic did its duty and informed the University of the saggy cheese. A week later, hearing reports of a cleaning crew, Critic rushed over (in sandals, no less) expecting to record the time of death. Instead, we found a cheery hardworking bloke struggling to destroy the now rock-hard cheese. It was a battle but, after three hours, The Cheese finally fell. And so did Critic’s one-sided obsession. It lasted 269 days (heh), longer than any Dunedin situationship.
Critic grilled the University over whether they had noticed the sagging slice, crossing our fingers to not get a cheesy response. A University spokesperson sincerely apologised for the cheese's longevity, stating a request to clean the window was made on 30 January 2025, but that an "administrative error" stopped it from being actioned. The spokesperson added that a review was underway to prevent future lactose-based oversights.
This response also helped clarify how the Property Services department seemingly functions. A long-time theatre studies student, keen to stress how clean the inside of Te Korokoro is, linked The Cheese to arts cuts. They claimed, "It would have been cleaned if it was a science building,” and were uncertain if exterior window cleaning came at a cost to the department. The University assured Critic that buildings are treated equally through the formal work request process. When asked if there was a cost involved, they responded, "No.”
So now, we're free from fear of the cheese touch (we have enough STIs in North D anyways.) No longer will starving students be taunted by food just out of reach. Was Critic right to report it to the Uni? That remains to be seen, as does the answer to one final question: who dunnit? Our inbox is ready and waiting for a tell-all. We’re cheesing in anticipation.