A Little Ha-Ha in the Jungle

5:53 PM @ the Auditorium

By 5:30, our dance practices become your average jungle of teenage tomfoolery and shenanigans. It's quite a glorious sight, I might add. You have your baboon-like 16 and 17-year old boys challenging one another's macho-ness to one side, and your sassy adolescent female nutcases yammering away about gossip and whatnot to the other. And then there's me: cool, calm and composed, sitting in the high head chair amongst them all.

I'm totally lying. I am the queen of nutcases and the jester of the baboons, but anyway, on this very particular day, the baboons happened to be running around the stage like complete idiots. Perhaps if you'd seen it, you would have envisioned the Congo. Again, I'm lying. It was a jungle, but nothing in comparison to the Hellish place described in HoD. Now in truth, KurtZ was present before me. That's right. Yours truly is a dear friend of KurtZ. Do you see where my story is going? Probably not, but that's okay, because I've learned that writers are allowed to write complete nonsense whether the readers like it or not. *Scoffs* Bowering.

Anyway, back to the story. So there I was, deep in the jungle. Kurtz was leading his little baboon fellows into the hands of danger before... Before he fell. I screamed "KURT!! HE DEAD!" before I collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggles. Yes. I had witnessed the fall of Kurtz. The idiot fell off the stage while chasing one of the girls around. Kurt Zapanta: my dear friend, and the heart and soul of the Jungle.

It's a shame nobody shared my moment of laughter... Poor simpletons are missing out on the Ha-Has of Heart of Darkness.

Ha Ha...



How lame was that?