The day after I wrote about Keggy’s kegnapping, Deadspin reported that Keggy had been found, albeit “suffering one torn off eye and a badly damaged nose.” Since I was in a rush, and because blogs are particularly renowned for their reliability, I took Deadspin’s word for it and emailed Jacko Editor-in-Chief Dylan Kane that I had heard of Keggy’s glorious recovery, and that I wanted to hear about all of the juicy details relating to the incident.

He replied:

Um, definitely not! Who told you that? No, Keggy is still missing. I might as well give you the rundown, I never did over the phone:

We last saw him safely sometime over the summer. July, maybe? Definitely late June he was here.

He must have been missing by the end of August, because the room he was in got reassigned from patriotic, American, apple-pie, penis-joke-based publications (like us) to the international students’ orientation crew (not so much) at that time, and the people who did said reassigning say he wasn’t in there at the time they took it over, which was more or less the end of August.

He was locked to the table with a bike lock, which we found there, undamaged, without Keggy. So either someone knew the combination, or we were lazy and left it, like, one digit off from the combination. We really don’t know.

The mechanics of wearing a giant plastic cylinder are complicated. We use a modified frame pack inside, with some pieces of wood to support the top of the keg. It’s incredibly uncomfortable, but it beats the alternative, which is having no support and resting the keg’s entire weight on your upper shoulders and top of your receding hairline. It also comes with a costume: green tights, green t-shirt, white shorts, orange high-tops. So whoever took him took ONLY the shell. They can’t possibly wear the costume or look much like Keggy, because they left all that stuff behind.

So Keggy is, in fact, still M.I.A. After hearing that I re-read Deadspin’s post on Keggy and realized that the blog had mistaken Keggy’s current kegnapping with the Sigma Nu kegnapping incident in 2003. Since Jacko’s site only mentions the first incident (without a date) it’s easy to see how such a misunderstanding could arise.

Read the rest of Kane’s email after the jump.

We’ve reported it to Safety & Security (campus security) and Hanover Police (filed a legit theft report) – both at the end of last week.

We blitzed out to campus last week, and pretty much everyone thought, “Oh, those hilarious Jacko kids, this is a wild and crazy prank on the campus.” Which it’s not. So we blitzed out again. I don’t know how many people believe us, but I get the feeling that it’s not many.

We received a tip that the Keggy suit was seen in one specific frat over the summer (as I said on the phone, I’d rather not identify which, so as to avoid publicly making unfounded accusations). We told H-Po and S&S about that, and also some guy who works for Dartmouth’s Office of Residential Life and whose job it is to, I dunno, walk around the frats and check stuff out.

A member of the Jacko took it upon himself to do reconnaissance in the said frat. I quote him, with some excising:

“I did some snooping at [suspected frat] tonight. I asked a girl if she knew if [guy] was a [suspected frat], because I needed to ask him an important question about DREAM [unrelated Dartmouth activity mentioned by our junior private eye as subterfuge]. She knew him, but he is not a [suspected frat]; he is, in fact, a [still-douchy but, with regards to Keggy's theft, as far as we know, innocuous frat]. I told her my name was Kevin Morris. She totally fucking bought it.

I looked around [suspected frat] a little (no one saw me), just checking out a few closets and stuff. There were a few bolted doors around though, so I doubt they would keep him in an obvious place.

Obviously it’s hard to take a humor mag, especially one that doesn’t suck, all that seriously. After all, that would sort of defeat the purpose. But Keggy’s kegnapping is no joke: Jacko staff has had to resort to espionage, and while that in itself is reminiscent of James Bond and therefore supremely cool, thus far those endeavors have led nowhere.

So, on behalf of IvyGate and Jacko, I entreat you, our loyal Dartmouth readers, to keep your mind clear (read: relatively sober) when you’re gyrating or ponging-it-up in the basement of one of Dartmouth’s many frats so you won’t miss any possible clue to the whereabouts of America’s finest anthropomorphic hero. Anyone familiar with the old adage: “Loose lips sink ships”? Well the same deal applies to your average frat bro: Copious amounts of alcohol = loose lips, and loose lips = (possibly) information about Keggy.