No matter how bad an event is, always immediately declare it a total and unparalleled success. This is surprisingly easy to get away with, as a) none of the frosh students were there last year to know how much better all the events were managed and b) frosh week events are so inherently forgettable that upper-year students will struggle to contest your claims anyway. Enjoy your success!

SCRIBES OF THE WORLD CONTEST
ROUND ONE COMMENTS “Lunch of Champions” by User4901

Piscespoet1969
5.8.16 2:49pm
I found a few places where there were lots of unnecessary words. I think a lot of words need to be cut, only leaving the words that move your story along. You have the makings of a good story, just revise so there are fewer words. Hope I’ve helped!

Since the dawn of man, we’ve passionately debated which alternative energy source is best. On and on it goes, boring as hell. Always leading back to one place. Sitting Indian style in a semi-circle asking ourselves, once we’ve blown through all the oil, what’s the best way to make more oil?

Dear Armpit Picker,

Ignoring the “ick” factor, I am astounded, if not awed, by your devotion to personal grooming: shared so generously with everyone in the compartment (bar those glued to their iPhones). Let me applaud you. While your three female companions, shrieking gleefully like starving coyotes over a kill, chose to disregard the no eating or drinking signs posted above them, by cramming their faces with burgers, fries and noisy slurps of bucket-size soda, you remained the outsider, the iconoclast, quietly picking away at your armpit, save for the occasional “shit,” “fuck,” and intensive “motherfucker.” Eyes straining, nay, bulging, tongue hanging out in deep concentration like a thirsty bloodhound. Yours was a very long tongue! I mean, for God’s sake, woman, have you no shame, taking it out in public? Anyway, I jest—and forgive the canine comparison. Undoubtedly, like a bloodhound (and under more auspicious circumstances), you are kind, patient, noble, mild-mannered and lovable. You are certainly persistent!

Dear Sir or Madam or most likely a disintegrating heap of bleached bones,

The editorial board of the Libri Paginarum Minimarum Herculanei thank you for the opportunity to review your submission, but regret to inform you that we cannot include your piece, “Ten Reasons Emperor Titus Will Be Nothing Like His Father (Titus Will Definitely Crucify Me for Number Eight),” in Volume XVIII of our publication, which, incidentally, no longer exists and has not existed for some twenty centuries.