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Henry Ernesto
The Best Emails
Mister Tister
How to Hack a Website
Compact Disc Hunt


It was a day like any other. I was at school, Travelers Rest High School or TR High as people say, around lunch time. I was headed for the auditorium for some sort of organization get-together for the Mister Travelers Rest High School Pageant (MTRHSP for short). A friend of mine had, with her Divine powers, signed a few of my friends and me up for the pageant so she could have some entertainment backstage.Only my friend Joe and I had agreed to do it. We figured we could have some fun being silly and keep her entertained. When I walked into this auditorium and found out that I had to march in the auditorium with an instructed strut, I was shocked and appalled! The only thing that worsened this was the fact that, to my surprise, THE GUYS AROUND ME WERE ACTUALLY IN THIS TO WIN!!!! I looked at Joe and he mirrored.


I told Asma', "NO, I AIN'T GUNNA' FREAKIN' DO THIS JUNK! I'LL GIT BEAT UP FER MAKIN' A MOCK'RY UV IT!" She was sad, and strangely, Joe was too. He didn't want to do it at all either, but he had some sort of burning propensity for it. We seceded from the situation, and informed everyone that we were not going to do it. Little did we know...

My mind was made up. I was home now, it was 4:00pm. The pageant was to begin at six. I was talking to Joe online (typing if you want to be anatomically correct) and he informed me that everyone knew we weren't going to do it, and they were all disappointed. We talked about our frustrations and dislikes about/of the pageant. It was absolutely SICK how much all of the other guys wanted to be in the pageant AND win. We couldn't associate ourselves with this stuff! But, we could... We needed to. Joe told me we should do it for the fans... We needed to.


Joe-Bob came over to my house at about 5:00pm. We needed to get ready... an hour would be more than enough. "What'm I gonna' wear, Joe-Bob?," fell out of my mouth. "I don't know, you think of something," Joe retorted. We had to have two different outfits: formal and informal. I ended up with the best plan... I would make people think I was actually wanting to win by wearing a nice-looking red shirt and jeans for informal. Formal was a different story...

We arrived at school at 6:00pm, as we were supposed to, and our friend was surprised that we were doing it after all . We, being freshmen, were forced to sit in the chorus room with our other, very enthusiastic acquaintances. Joe was wearing a hooded jacket, wrapped very tightly around his head (only I knew what was beneath the hood). The other guys were like, "Man, he must be doing somethin' crazy. You got some fownky hair unda' 'dat hood, doncha'?" Joe sat there nodding his head. I was laughing. The pageant ended up not beginning until near 7:00pm, and the activities in the chorus room were far from exciting. On many occasions, we almost left... We couldn't, though. It was for the fans.

The fun stuff (what we were doing)
The fun stuff (what they were doing)
  • Snoring

  • Laughing at the others

  • Smirking to ourselves for the surprises in store for the others

  • Wondering why people watch wrestling

  • Looking at our watches
  • Watching wrestling

  • Playing cards and acting like they invented the idea

  • Watching wrestling

  • Talking about the wrestlers

  • Talking about all of the girls that would be chasing after them when all was over

  • Watching wrestling

  • Asking Joe what was under his hood

At 7:00pm, we were all told to line up outside. Luckily, Joe and I have almost the same last names and were in line together. When we were supposed to strut onstage, Joe and I walked very very very stiff. We weren't going to do this the right way if we didn't have to. When we got up there, pictures were taken and the other guys smiled with huge twinkles and entreating looks in their eyes. From a picture seen later, Joe and I were making WHY??? glances at each other. We were instructed to STRUT offstage... PHEW! That was over... Back to the activities (see the table above to know which activities). Shortly afterwards, it was time for the INFORMAL attire prancing. Each of us were to go up separately and make our circle around the stage.

By now, it was down to me and Joe. I knew he would outdo me this time. It was his destiny. He walked out as though he had just broken his back; then to EVERYONE'S surprise, he pulled off his hood. His hair was in nasty, dirty-looking pigtails. No one knew what to think. My turn went without a hitch... No big deal, everyone was scared that I was there anyway.

After our informal lollygagging, THE ACTIVITIES began again. This time, Joe and I stood in the hall, trying our best to escape. We couldn't; it was futile.


Blah, blah, blah... That is the summary of the next hour. Nothing exciting happened. We were bored x 5643. We got dressed in our formal attire, and assembled yet another line... FORMAL TIME!!! Everyone was REALLY trying this time. People brought hats and canes (word has it some brought chickens and veal cutlets). I wasn't dressed too fancy, though for some ODD reason, people kept staring at me? Blah, blah, blah some more... It was awfully boring. Joe went! He was wearing a nice shirt that he had written, in chalk, "THAT IS SPICY" with an arrow pointing to his butt. He left, and it was my turn. All I got was applause and yelling. It built and built. I WAS A HIT!!! Wanna know what I was wearing?

That's a clean room suit, my "turkey hat", and a scanned picture of my face. After me, the freshmen were pretty much done. There was a mass orgy at the end in which we all stood up there while the winners were called out. WE THANKFULLY DIDN'T WIN...

Mister Tister was one of the most boring experiences I've ever had. Aside from wrestling or the occasional switch to QVC on TV, there was nothing to even hold my attention part-way. It really sucked. The funniest thing is that through documentation
(yearbook, school newspaper, etc.), Joe and I were erased historically from the pageant. We were never mentioned or seen again... We possess the only pictures left! It's funny... making a mockery of someone's pageant leads to them erasing your existence! GOOD STUFF!!