Wordzzle 57

For the 10-word:

Community College Pitch

“Hey, my name’s Alan McIntyre, and ten years ago, I dropped out of college. However, I’m a believer in my generation being one to make a difference. I worked at a lot of different jobs like a flea market, staff on a hotline for keeping kids out of trouble, even cleaning elderly peoples’ houses and finding a bonnet or two in the attic. The one thing I learned in the hardest way possible is this: don’t let disinformation keep you out of a community college. I’ve done just about every job imaginable, but now I’m halfway through my film diploma at Falling Leaves Community College. I cannot award it with a higher superlative than that it allowed me to pursue my dream after every other school I applied to said it wasn’t possible. [laughs] Now I get to say, ‘Who was that masked man?’ in class all the time! What kind of job is cooler than that?”

Falling Leaves Community College: the place for you. Call us now and live your dreams for real.

For the mini:

Alan’s 1-minute film script

Lights up. Deep in the forest, a young man and woman sit on a log. They’re wearing hiking clothes, and are arguing over a map.

James: No, look! Right there! It says that the right was the way to go. Instead we went left, and look what a mess we ended up in.

Amy: Says you and the government.

James is offended, and says so.

James: My-my-(splutters) It’s your darn government too, Amy!

Amy smiles at him.

Amy: I just said that to get a rise out of you, silly.

James: I had the feeling so, but…(trails off) We’re so lost, Amy.

Amy: But it’s so charming! The way the light falls through the tree leaves is just beautiful. I feel like a little girl again at my grandmother’s house. She never let me touch the heirlooms, but I would look and imagine what they were like back when they were brand new. Mm, and her gingerbread recipe was probably one too. (sniffs) I think I smell gingerbread, as a matter of fact.

James is flabbergasted.

James: You’re actually thinking of food at a time like this?

Amy: Well, I’m hungry!

Lights dim.

For the maxi/mega:

I walked into theatre class with a knot in my stomach. Today was the day the cast list for “Bonnet in the Attic: a Western Mystery Musical” went up, and I was hoping to be Ellen, the main female lead. However, I had a feeling that tripping over my own feet during tryouts had counted against me. I hurried over to the posting and mock-clutched at my heart, flabbergasted. I had somehow ended up as the Indian chief’s wife Falling Leaves. My only line in the entire musical besides chorus scenes was “Who was that masked man, Running Deer?” I sighed stoically; at least I was in it, after all. Alas, my dreams of a Superlative award were gone.

The entire play was such a farce of the Wild West I was tempted to go to the school government after reading though the script, but I decided against it. After all, the play wasn’t supposed to be accurate. It was supposed to be a device for keeping kids out of trouble, and if that meant less time with the school staff, I was all for it. I’m a believer of the free press, an idea not shared at the all-girl’s Catholic school I attended. Disinformation had almost kept me from tryouts, and I was not about to muck up my only chance by causing a fuss.

After our first (terrible) rehearsal, I dawdled on the way home past the flea market and the charming little heirlooms shop. Normally, I’d stop inside to say hello to my sister, who worked there, but I was feeling so terrible and angry about the musical I just walked on. My house was not as “deep in the forest” as people claimed; it was about a ¼ mile walk. My mother always said it was my generation that thought a quarter of a mile was a long distance; I didn’t disagree. I only wished I could change my generation’s mind. Make them walk 26.2 miles every day, I thought to myself, and they’d breeze past a quarter of a mile almost instantly. I smiled a little as I sniffed the air; mom was making lentil soup. I picked up the pace, running home for the final 500 feet.

Thanks Raven!