Assassin

With a title like that, I'm guaranteed to get someone to read this post, right?

Truthfully, though, I am exercising my skill and prowess at being sneaky along with the rest of our happy little BYU ward in an organized tournament of backstabbing.  We have all been assigned each other as "targets" and equipped with white plastic forks in order to perform our dastardly deeds.

My roommates and I formed our own little secret combination almost instantly, as did many other apartments, I'm sure.  I was assigned to kill a girl in our FHE group first, and on the way home from FHE, we offered her a spot in our secret group if she told us who she was supposed to kill.  She didn't want to tell us, and we warned her that if she didn't say, we would find out eventually.  She didn't tell us, so I stabbed her once we got home, and she then had to pass on her target as mine.

The whole next day I had visions of myself riding my bike and spearing people with my fork, jumping from our apartment balcony and attacking them while walking unawares, and the like.  Then as I got my food from dinner group one of the girls there nonchalantly just walked up and poked me in plain view and announced that I was now dead.  I have never been so let down; at least she could have made some sort of cool sound effect or made some sort of awesome killing pose while poking me in the shoulder.

Maybe she just didn't want to hurt me.  I do seem a bit fragile I suppose.

Being dead is much less fun, for sure, though.  I never really got to test out my jumping from the balcony attack, so I decided I'd just do it anyway.  I jumped on the other Elders' quorum president in the ward, screaming like a banshee, and landed heavily on my left heel.  Now I might have a broken heel.

So the moral of the story is, once you've been assassinated, stop pretending to kill people.