The Number 75 is a Grotesque Animal

It's been 24 hours since it happened. The past day has been somewhat of a daze; a blur. I'm not sure if I can recall all of the events that took place; however, my story needs to be told. Names and actual events may have been changed.

Let's start with the night before. I recall stating:

10:00....night before.....My nerves are going crazy.....

I tried to sleep after this, but all of my attempts were in vain. Some strange man came to visit me and stole my projector for the night. The attempt he made to wish me luck and calm me down made exactly no difference. I felt the need to empty my insides into the porcelain. Nerves were shot; the energy drink I mistakenly drank was haunting my mind and playing games with my body. I was wired for three hours until I crashed, but it would not let me sleep.

As I made the next attempt at slumber, I began receiving texts, a very welcome distraction, from none other than the CG. My nerves were somewhat calmed during the texting, but soon peaked at an all new high as I tried, yet again, to sleep.

The hours rolled by. 12:00....1:00....2:00....At 2:30 someone showered......3:00......4:00....Only three and a half hours until I had to wake up. Lord, I cried, please help me sleep. I remember nothing else until 7:20. Finally, a little sleep.

After about 10 minutes of talking myself into getting up, I moseyed into some clothes, and lazily listed to campus. 8:40......time to head over there..... 8:45....people start showing up. 9:00.....the committee show up wearing skulls and crossbones, gnashing their teeth; snarling, rabid.

This was no normal presentation. As I begin my talk, I can feel the daggers being stared at me by each member of the committee; I can hear their thoughts, saying, "This is no defense. This is a joke. I will stick him. I will devour him. He will not pass." Am I scared? Absolutely not. I felt a strange power and confidence from my mustache. The presentation went smoothly, packed with multimedia and 3-d graphics. During the applause, as the public are leaving, I begin to fear for my life. "Don't feed me to the wolves. I'm vulnerable." But no harm befell me; the snarling, foaming mouths of the committee were transformed into welcoming, pleased smiles.

It was over. I had passed the test. I will diminish and head into the West.

Peace.