#...we unleashed......something horrible

“We beat you! Suck on that!” Two kids looked like they were ready to cry. Or at least Matt liked to imagine as such. As he triumphantly filled in a row of empty dashes, a stick figure hung by its neck still graced the white board. A reminder of his victory. Floccinaucinihilipilification. They would’ve never guessed that and he had known. Then again, he could’ve written a simple word with unpopular hangman letters, like boondoggle, and they probably wouldn’t have gotten it. This theatre posse of fourth-grader-looking-brats probably never learned how to think without a smartphone glued to their fingertips. One of them started nitpicking, clearly upset she didn’t get a straight answer out of him or out of life – who knows at their age? “Of course it’s a real word. I’ve been doing it to this whole production all week and will continue my floccinaucinihilipilification till the curtain falls.” Now it was just a matter of who would find out first that this gorgeous concoction of the English language means ‘the act of deciding something is of little value’, not to say deem it worthless.

He remembers when making a deal with his arresting officer had sounded like a good idea. No picking up trash in exchange for saving Mr. McBadgeWaver’s daughter’s school performance. How the deal was brought up exactly is a complex story, but no deal was ever closed easier. In hindsight, Matt should’ve clarified some things before agreeing. Like, why did the previous director quit? When saying “school performance” were they talking about secondary school or actual college? And were high school girls even allowed to drink already? Oh well, at least they were all miserable together – as Matthew made sure of.

“Street smart beats Shakesy P smart.” Matt shrugged, as if resigning himself to his own made-up rules. “So the trees stay. Right, Miss Damiani?” He looked at Aubs with lips pursed, barely holding in a snort. “Say yes, I bet the blonde on the left will cry.”