WHAT???????????

"So, how many pages are in our field show this year?" I was standing outside Ms. X's office during lunch break.

"Thirty-six. What do you think?"

"That sounds a lot better than last year."

(FLASHBACK: Five [CENSORED] pages of drill. Five. Well... guess what? Nobody told Ms. X.)

"Why, how many did you have last year?"

"...five."

"WHAT??"

"You heard me correctly, judging by your response."

"FIVE??"

"That's right."

At this point, as if on cue, our colorguard captain walked in.

"Ms. X, did you want to talk to me?"

"DID YOU GUYS REALLY HAVE FIVE PAGES OF DRILL LAST YEAR?"

"Well, actually, we had nine... but the first three were so pathetic they might as well have been one page."

I sighed and attempted to look miserable. "That sounds about right. And then some genius had the brilliant idea to cut the last page, giving us five."

Ms. X looked genuinely miserable. "Why didn't you tell me this at the beginning?"

Guardie shrugged. "I didn't want to scare you off. We need a dedicated director."

I ditched the miserable look and grinned. "That sounds about right."