While city officials celebrated what they described as a “thorough and efficient” Ash Wednesday cleanup, a small but resilient stash of Mardi Gras throws has reportedly survived the annual sweep and is now laying low at an undisclosed location somewhere in Orleans Parish.
Sanitation crews worked through the early morning hours, removing tons of beads, cups, footballs, plush creatures, and other once cherished objects from neutral grounds across the city. By noon, most major routes appeared as if Carnival had never occurred.
Most.
According to sources embedded in a shrub near an unnamed Uptown parade route, at least 14 strands of beads, two plush footballs, a pair of sunglasses with one missing lens, some doubloons, a slightly cracked light-up sword, and two pairs of panties of uncertain origin successfully avoided what survivors described as “the black contractor bag.”
“We heard the scraping,” said one strand of purple pearls, speaking from beneath a thin layer of oak leaves. “It starts as a distant hum. Then the shovels. Then the bags. Once you’re in the bag, you don’t come back.”
The surviving throws described a tense overnight period in which they remained motionless as leaf blowers passed inches away. One gold doubloon reportedly flattened itself against damp soil to avoid detection.
“They say not everything gold can stay,” said a gold doubloon, which claims to have endured the entire Carnival season. “But they never met me. I ain’t going nowhere.”
One throw, speaking softly and declining to be identified for fear of further collection, confirmed the group intends to remain hidden “for the foreseeable future.”
“We’re doing alright,” it said. “A little shaken up, but nothing worse than when we were first thrown by a drunk reveler who forgot how to sit down. We’ll stay put and out of sight for as long as we can. But if that blinking one doesn’t knock it off, we may have to offer him back to the Carnival gods.”
City officials declined to comment on specific survival reports but confirmed that “virtually all visible throws” had been properly processed.
Though officials maintain the routes are clear, some residents report noticing what they describe as “lingering shimmer.”
“I made eye contact for a moment,” said one dog walker. “I let it be. It’s earned some rest. At least until it rains.”
For now, the surviving throws remain hidden in silence, monitoring storm forecasts and quietly discussing what one source described as “a strategic reemergence window” during hurricane season.