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Authors: Harvard Lampoon
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airplane food jokes and a whole routine about how he has to take off his shoes at airport security but is then told to put them back on because his feet are so smelly. While sitting through his act, I silently renew my vow never to have children. Only a monster would bring life into a world where these kinds of jokes are told.
The only good thing about Jaesar’s story is that it takes up all the remaining interview time. As I return to my seat, I see Buttitch tearing up a betting slip and cursing furiously. I forgot to cough six times.
Next up is Pita. He wins over the audience from the start by asking everyone in the front row how their days are going and making small talk with them. Finally, Jaesar gets him to sit down in the interview chair. Jaesar has a hard time interviewing Pita because Pita has so many questions of his own. He is genuinely interested in Jaesar’s life, pleasantly inquiring about his family, health, and hobbies.
“So tell me,” Jaesar manages after answering several of Pita’s questions about his hovercraft collection, “did you leave a girlfriend behind in District Twelve?”
Pita sighs. “Well, there is one girl.”
The audience hoots and asks for more information. Some people in the audience even blow Pita kisses. It is a very unusual audience.
“I have a girlfriend,” Pita continues, “but I’m getting tired of that broad. I feel like she’s cramping my style, you know?” He looks directly in the camera. “Emily, if you are watching this, it’s over. I am breaking up with you.”
“Ah … that’s too bad,” Jaesar says. “So there’s no special lady in your life anymore?”
“Actually, there is,” Pita says. “Her.” I gasp when I realize he is pointing at me.
I am absolutely furious. What right does Pita—or any boy for that matter—have to say that he likes me? I have never been this irrationally angry! It is one thing to pretend in training that we are friends. But to say that he likes me? That I am special ? On television ? That crosses the arbitrary line that exists in my head, and I won’t stand for it!
Outraged, I rise from my seat and march over to Pita. When he turns, I punch him in the face as hard as I can, knocking him off the stage.
“Ouch! Wouldn’t you like to learn the story behind that punch?” Jaesar asks the audience, as Pita totters groggily back to the stage. “Unfortunately, rules are rules, and this show is scheduled to end now. Stay tuned for an all-new episode of President Bernette Is a Wise and Just Leader , coming up next!”
I am still fuming when I get back to my quarters. The rest of my team is there, and they are furious at me.
“What the hell were you thinking back there?” Buttitch shouts. “You didn’t cough once!”
“Uh … more to da point,” Effu interjects, “why did ya punch Pita?”
“Because he said he liked me,” I explain patiently, “in front of people. ” Duh. Why doesn’t anybody understand where I’m coming from?
“He made ya desirable!” Effu retorts. “Now dat Pita has said he likes you, everybody else will too. Dat’s how relationships work, Kantkiss!”
I am starting to waver. Maybe my team has a point. Maybe I was too harsh with Pita when I punched him in the face as hard as I could.
Just then Pita stumbles into the room, crying. “You … you hit me so hard ,” he manages between tears.
“I’m sorry, Pita,” I say. “I shouldn’t have punched you.”
Pita cheers up when he hears my apology. “Even though my face still stings,” he says, “my feelings don’t hurt anymore. And feelings are what matter.”
We watch the replay of the interviews over dinner, and my team assures me that my punching gaffe didn’t ruin the starstruck lovers angle. “I thought you were putting a scary mummy love curse on him,” says Cinnabon.
Then it is time to say good-bye to Buttitch and Effu. There won’t be time tomorrow. Effu wishes me good luck in the arena but refuses to shake my
The only good thing about Jaesar’s story is that it takes up all the remaining interview time. As I return to my seat, I see Buttitch tearing up a betting slip and cursing furiously. I forgot to cough six times.
Next up is Pita. He wins over the audience from the start by asking everyone in the front row how their days are going and making small talk with them. Finally, Jaesar gets him to sit down in the interview chair. Jaesar has a hard time interviewing Pita because Pita has so many questions of his own. He is genuinely interested in Jaesar’s life, pleasantly inquiring about his family, health, and hobbies.
“So tell me,” Jaesar manages after answering several of Pita’s questions about his hovercraft collection, “did you leave a girlfriend behind in District Twelve?”
Pita sighs. “Well, there is one girl.”
The audience hoots and asks for more information. Some people in the audience even blow Pita kisses. It is a very unusual audience.
“I have a girlfriend,” Pita continues, “but I’m getting tired of that broad. I feel like she’s cramping my style, you know?” He looks directly in the camera. “Emily, if you are watching this, it’s over. I am breaking up with you.”
“Ah … that’s too bad,” Jaesar says. “So there’s no special lady in your life anymore?”
“Actually, there is,” Pita says. “Her.” I gasp when I realize he is pointing at me.
I am absolutely furious. What right does Pita—or any boy for that matter—have to say that he likes me? I have never been this irrationally angry! It is one thing to pretend in training that we are friends. But to say that he likes me? That I am special ? On television ? That crosses the arbitrary line that exists in my head, and I won’t stand for it!
Outraged, I rise from my seat and march over to Pita. When he turns, I punch him in the face as hard as I can, knocking him off the stage.
“Ouch! Wouldn’t you like to learn the story behind that punch?” Jaesar asks the audience, as Pita totters groggily back to the stage. “Unfortunately, rules are rules, and this show is scheduled to end now. Stay tuned for an all-new episode of President Bernette Is a Wise and Just Leader , coming up next!”
I am still fuming when I get back to my quarters. The rest of my team is there, and they are furious at me.
“What the hell were you thinking back there?” Buttitch shouts. “You didn’t cough once!”
“Uh … more to da point,” Effu interjects, “why did ya punch Pita?”
“Because he said he liked me,” I explain patiently, “in front of people. ” Duh. Why doesn’t anybody understand where I’m coming from?
“He made ya desirable!” Effu retorts. “Now dat Pita has said he likes you, everybody else will too. Dat’s how relationships work, Kantkiss!”
I am starting to waver. Maybe my team has a point. Maybe I was too harsh with Pita when I punched him in the face as hard as I could.
Just then Pita stumbles into the room, crying. “You … you hit me so hard ,” he manages between tears.
“I’m sorry, Pita,” I say. “I shouldn’t have punched you.”
Pita cheers up when he hears my apology. “Even though my face still stings,” he says, “my feelings don’t hurt anymore. And feelings are what matter.”
We watch the replay of the interviews over dinner, and my team assures me that my punching gaffe didn’t ruin the starstruck lovers angle. “I thought you were putting a scary mummy love curse on him,” says Cinnabon.
Then it is time to say good-bye to Buttitch and Effu. There won’t be time tomorrow. Effu wishes me good luck in the arena but refuses to shake my
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