First of all, for as much as I bitched about Mock Trial, it paid off. We won the state competition.

It looks kind of sad written down, but it's a really big deal. A grueling six trials in a row we had to endure, and for the final one, the jury spent four and a half hours in deliberation. But we won, dammit. And we're going to nationals....which I feel should be somewhere exotic....somewhere unexplored....somewhere new....somewhere like....NEW ORLEANS.

That's right. Of all the places in the US of A we could have the competition, it happens to be right down the street from my school this year. However, this gives us a healthy advantage over the competition, and I intend to legally kick ass. Kicking ass to the fullest extent of the law. Yep. That's me.

The state competition was in, of all places...Lafayette. Lafayette is somewhat like hell. It's a pretty big city, but just spread out a lot. And no one goes there unless they are forced to by means beyond their control or else they are being held hostage by a groupt of ruthless terrorists threatening their life. I HATE small towns. I kicked and screamed a threw a royal hissy fit about going, but I eventually conceded and went anyway, despite my known opposition.

That night we went to a restaurant called IMonelli's. Italian is the mock trial tradition, so we just randomly picked a place from the phone book to go and eat. Bad idea. From the outside, it looked like a crackhouse where shady dealings go down.

Once inside, it was not much better, except there were dim lights and many crystal glasses. The napkins were folded like little hats. Sarah S (Runs With Scissors) and I wore them on our heads until we were instructed to take them off.

I'm telling you: there is nothing more pathetic in this world that a hick town in the middle of Louisiana putting on a facade of sophistication and artistic refinement. When it reality...it was an Italian restaurant that served Michelob Light.

We waited THREE HOURS for our food. THREE HOURS. They tried to fill the space with things like pallette cleansers, but I failed to see why my pallette had to be cleansed if I had had nothing to eat yet!

Sarah S and I took up the time by sawing our wrists with butter knives until they were taken away by a fellow member of my team. Thankfully, I bribed away until I got them back. I really love teenage boys. They're just to easy to bribe....so easy to lie to.

And after we ate we all went back to the hotel, where coincidently, ALL the other competing teams were also staying.

I stayed up until 10:30 playing ping-pong and foosball with members of opposing teams, getting the dirt on their case which in fact was very easy to do. Easier than I thought it would have been. But I used my handy-dandy "tie-pull" maneuver and they spilled the beans right away.

Our curfew was at 11:00.

By 10:50, me and my two roommates were back in our room.

By 11:15, all the girls had promptly gathered into our room.

By 11:30, a prank war had promptly ensued and we were we crazy with competition.

The state case was about a college initiation (called "Entry Night") where a kid fell and split his head open on a fake roof he had to walk blindfolded in order to get into a club on campus. The pledgemaster of the club, Pat Peterson, was charged with hazing and involutary manslaughter.

Okay. Now that you understand that, I can proceed.

We received a cryptic phone call around 11:20. This is what the conversation went like.

"Hello?"

"ENTRY NIGHT. MIDNIGHT. CAREY'S ROOM. ARE YOU SCARED?"

"Ooh. I'm shaking in my combat boots."

CLICK.

The voice was disguised. All the girls were properly "creeped" and finally decided that it was the guys (all grouped together in one room) who were calling us repeatedly and threatening our lives with fake roof apparatusses. (Is that even spelled right??)

I am a witness in the case. On prosecution, I play the best friend (girlfriend) of the victim, whose name is Chris Kenya. (I play Chris Kenya, not the victim. Sike.) On defense, I play the defendant's former pledgemaster and current girlfriend, Sandy Worthington. As part of the case materials, it says that Chris Kenya walked the board after the victim had fallen, and Chris fell off also, but didn't die. Everyone on both teams (even the team that didn't win from our school, and also the one that won state, my team) knows this.

So we broke curfew and ran voer to the guys' room. I laid on the ground like I was dead and they put makeup on my head like I had cracked my skull. So I lay down, they knocked and ran away.

When they finally opened the door, I expected them to just laugh and close the door.

Oh but no.

They laughed all right. Then they took me by the feet and dragged me into their room and held me as a hostage.

The rest of the girls were wondering what was taking me so long, since they were crouched down in a nearby stairwell and didn't see what actually happened. So they knocked on the door and didn't get an answer. They went back to my room and congregated around the phone to call the guys and see what happened.

After a series of about 25 consecutive calls, they said that the girls must all show up in towels and THEN they would let me go.

(Mind you, the penalty for me getting caught in the guys' room was a pricey one. Probably a suspension from school as well as the mock trial compeition.)

But the girls refused. They said the guys had to wear towels as well, just so it would be fair.

From here, I won't go into much grisly detail. I'll leave that to your imagination.

Once I was back in the safety of my room, we promptly received yet another phone call. It was Rajat, the SGA president and student of the year, who had masterminded the hostage situation earlier that night.

He said that he "wanted to see my hair wet."

Ha! Right!

I told Sarah, who had answered the phone, to tell him that I was merely keeping the peace.

"Okay. Rajat, she wants to see you naked."

ME: "WHAAAAT?!?!?"

RAJAT: "Good." *begins breathing heavily into the phone*

ME: "Ew ew ew ew eeewwww!!!"

They showed up five minutes later on our doorstep.

I think I should stop here. But you should know two things first:

1) I am not a whore, but

2) It was a very fun night.

Wait, there's a third...

3) It was somewhat awkward sitting next to them in court the next day and being competely serious about everything.

We left the room one last time, and a guard saw us. But we outran him, like something you would see in a movie, and he followed us. He knocked on the door, but we never answered.

Then proclaimed Sarah S, the ultimate Jewish girl: "I think I just found Jesus."

© alexa

The counter keeps breaking and pissing me off, so NO MORE COUNTER! Mwahaha!