the big popularity contest
I'm a coordinator for a big gala event -- an awards show/competition of some sort. It's in a big room with lots of people sitting at tables, and almost all are young adults and teenagers. Everyone has their attention focused on a big board on the wall at the front of the room. It is displaying the ranking of our contestants in an elaborate system of hierarchy. Some guy is explaining the classification to everyone, showing that some people fit into the bottom rung of total slimeball, while others are in the higher group. He's writing things into the categories on the board as he talks -- characteristics of the various classes or something. Now there's going to be a competition. Some nominated participants are standing up at their tables, waiting for the judges to come around to talk to them or something. I'm in a part of the room (backstage?) that is cut off from the rest of the room by a wall/barrier thing. The other official organizers are milling around this area. I peek through a hole in the fabric of the wall and see Phoebe standing up. She's all dressed up and is pulling on a pair of green satin gloves. I all of a sudden really want her to win. The judge is standing near me, so I approach him. He is a tall young man (my age) with blond hair and scruffy light facial hair. I tell him he's has to be really nice to Phoebe. I grab his collar and force him to agree.
FIN
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