The Features Section got their hands on a diary of a Grasshopper Night judge. We’d like you to believe that our school is filled with individuals of various talents, but that’s obviously not the case. When most people think of Grasshopper Night, they imagine a showcase of incredible talents. When I think of Grasshopper Night, I normally end up in the fetal position, pants wet, sobbing uncontrollably. Everyone else sees the finished product in all its glory, but they don’t see the painstakingly difficult labor that goes into producing the show. Do you know how many people with no talent try out? The answer: too many. And they all pass through the door full of confidence and hope, only to be summarily shot down because nobody cares if you can recite 4,000 digits of pi. Enjoy. 9:04 – The day started off with a dull thud. Little Timmy Freshman stood outside Graves for the last week and a half so he could audition first. Someone should have told him beforehand that belching “Tears in Heaven” would quickly earn him a one-way ticket to GetTheHellOutOfHere-Ville, population: him. 9:16 – A girl walked in wearing only a trench coat and offered to give me the night of my life if she could perform in Grasshopper. Regretfully, I declined. Shucks. 9:23 – A lost new Upper came in searching for the community service sign-ups. I told him those went down a week ago and yelled at him to either go back to his room or stop creeping everyone out by looking so nervous. This is going to be a long day. 9:37 – A girl came in promising that she would have the best act of the day. Feigning interest in her outrageous claim, I asked her what she was going to do. She told me she was an amateur contortionist and that she had learned the ropes by watching instructional videos on YouTube. Without prompt, she hastily contorted herself into a human pretzel. I was rudely awoken from my slumber by her cries of “Help me! I’m stuck!” My soul, jaded and rough from years of pain, felt no compassion for the girl. Unable to defend herself, I saw an opportunity for cruelty and began lobbing pencils at her as she squirmed helplessly on the floor. Eventually, my amusement faded, and I called an ambulance. 9:52 – To my surprise, the last band actually hit a couple of notes. I wept tears of joy. 10:01 – A half-naked girl displayed her talent of untying a Starburst with her tongue. In. These are skills admissions needs to actively recruit. Afterward, contact information was exchanged. 10:18 – Does anyone think juggling kittens and chainsaws is a good idea? Neither do I, but nobody told the last failure. At least he brought enough OxyClean to sanitize the floor, ceiling and walls. I took the rest of the bottle and poured myself a glass. I’ll leave this planet on my own terms. 10:26 – I stared at the shot glass of OxyClean for a long time and received a moment of clarity. I don’t give a damn about Grasshopper Night or anyone that sees the show. I told a group that they were beautiful and were going to perform in Grasshopper Night. Merry Christmas. -Robert Palmer
