The Force Called Frenemy

This was my Original Prose and Poetry (OPP) piece for my 2011-2012 Speech and Debate year. Wow. My final year of high school speech and debate... I had a good run. I final-ed at state qualifiers, but unfortunately did not get to attend state. Either way, I'm still rather proud of this piece [: It originated as a satirical, humorous process analysis piece I wrote for English class last year on "How to be the Perfect Frenemy," but then I tweeked it to create some slam poetry type pieces along with a few other additions/changes. Hope you like it!

Gather for the ultimatum

Angel and demons gain momentum

Focused on the battle royale

Tic Tac Toe style

It seems simple enough; it is a child’s game. But amongst all those X’s and O’s, draws emerge. The enlightened angels draw their illuminating halos (O’s) as the demonic devils screech behind their burning crosses (X’s). You? You’re shy. You’re shy… You’re... sh-sh-shy…? Head down. Eyes on the ground. Shuffle your feet. Glipse around. There. There, in the corner, is a table, in plain sight. Sit. Pull out a piece of paper. Time to doodle. An X, an O, an X, an O, again and again and… Again the intensity downplays in the eyes of the public. The unsuspecting observer falls victim to these blinding hugs (O’s) and kisses (X’s) and is led astray. She naively decides to join what she thought was an innocent game. Now the angels and demons have decided to join sides, merging into the lonely individual being born in the eyes of society, and a new round of tic-tac-toe has begun.

Life is complicated.

Often times, we can’t tell who is a friend and who is an enemy.

Sometimes, we’re left wondering if we’ll ever be the victor, the one that comes out on top, or if we’ll simply be the straggler left behind.

Unfortunately, some people stoop to the most desperate, even manipulative, measures,

Especially us girls.

Join me today as we explore the demented mind of a girl teaching you the ways to reach the top.

It’s easy. It’s step by step. It’s… crazy.

But you’ve got to plan carefully

In “The Force Called Frenemy”

An original.

Step 1: Find your target

The game has begun

It’s time for the hunt

Locate your target

Lock on and don’t forget

She should have the same hobbies, interests, extracurriculars; same everything, other than how she always seems to be on top of things and better (she isn’t better… you can do it much better). She will be your latest frenemy. This will be the perfect rivalry to fuel this endless war. Stalk up to her, as stealthily as a lioness to a gazelle, but retract your claws. You don’t want to reveal the devil smirking from behind those angelic wings. Introduce yourself with a sugary sweet smile and invite her to join you in a game of Tic. Tac. Toe.

Step 2: Build your hatred

Innocent façade kept all the while

Deep animosity quickly stockpiles

Stored away as ammunition

For her complete annihilation

Breed your hatred like bloodhounds ready for the hunt. Better yet, breed it like the bunnies in the rabbit holes. Harbor and bottle up your loathing until beating your frenemy – so you can be the best at everything – stands as your sole motivation and purpose in life. Always compare yourself to her because if you do not beat her in every single test, sport, activity – scratch that – if you do not beat her at every feat known to mankind, your organs will light on fire and vaporize into a supernova of ashes. Even worse than internally combusting, if you do not beat said person, your parents will rave obsessively over her.

“Why aren’t you pretty like her?”

“Why aren’t you smart like her?”

“Why can’t you be more like her?”

Why can’t she be their child instead? Why were you even born? Even worse than that, your parents will say it’s alright because if you try your best, everything will be fine. But doing fine is not fine. You will emerge as the victor and you will win at tic-tac-toe. You will show them all.

Step 3: Compete

Life is a competition

A place for your abomination

We start where you learned your X’s and O’s

The place of your very first blows

School: where you rush to beat her every score

If ever to fail,

-heartbeat sounds- A minus.

you must prepare more

You’ll just stay away from everyone other than your angels and demons, perfecting your skills.

In sports of every kind

Winning has made you blind

Hog the ball, make the most shots

Tie her shoelaces into knots

Trip her and beat her black and blue

Then smile and apologize as if true

Only an accident, you’re such a klutz

But healthy competition is a must

So sprint and race her for the mile, even if you puke; get dizzy; pass out. Actually, why stop with the mile? Race her no matter the distance, even if it is less than a foot away; after all, the tic-tac-toe grid is a matter of inches.

Step 4: Remember you’re better

Not only the first but also the best

Until you have it all, you cannot rest

Going broke? That’s of no issue…

Then you’ll be first at that too!

Even the quality of the air around you must be better. Now, you are wondering how that could possibly be since we all breathe the same air, right? Wrong. The air you breathe is better. Why? Simply because you are breathing it. Each breath fuels your life and your life purpose: beating your frenemy. At night, stay up talking to her. Load yourself on caffeine if you have to, but do NOT go to bed until she has. You cannot be tired; sleep is for the weak. If she only got two hours of sleep, you only got one. If she pulls an all-nighter, you say, “The concept of sleep? Psh. Hasn’t even crossed my mind.” Instead, you stay up strategically continuing the game of Tic. Tac. Toe.

Step 5: Betrayal

Infiltrate enemy grounds

Within late night talks, information found

She confided in you her life and more

Never expecting what’s in store

No need to be a small fly on the wall

No need to be a simple wall flower

No need to send angels and demons snooping

Because you already have this power

She unknowingly poses as the source

Her demise is straight on course

When she steps away: Unveil her crush. Expose that her F. Trash-talk that trash she was wearing. Talk about how much it clashes with those shades she “shoplifted” from the mall. Imitate the nasal sound of her voice. Bask in the glorious feeling of near success. Taste the sweetness of near victory. Listen to the bravura of the devil’s smirking remarks. Watch as the X’s and O’s play out the way you planned all along.

Step 6: The final touch

To complete your masterpiece string

You are missing but one thing

To claim what is hers as yours

And you’ll have unlocked all doors

Spread rumors and gossip

Then go with your own lips

Tell her boyfriend she wants to split

He’ll break it off to avoid the hit

Comfort both sides secretly

Continue on innocently

“She’s missing out. I don’t know why she’s been treating you like trash to be thrown out.”

“Out with him! He was such a jerk!”

Now here’s your chance to leap

            “How about you and I go out?”

But a sympathetic façade you must keep

            “Things happen for a reason; maybe this is just how it was meant to be.”

It somehow turned out this way

            “Funny how things go, that you and I are here today.”

And you’re sorry to say

            “I’m so sorry; let’s stay friends anyway?”

Inside, however, you gloat and exclaim

As the X’s and O’s line up and you’ve won the game

Step 7: The Aftermath

But always act caring and never let on

A frenemy is friend and enemy and a bit of a pawn

They are a rival of sorts

But only shall see the side you contort

Tell your two-sided conscience to shut up and comply

As in the end they aren’t too different in your lie

You are another battle closer to the end of this endless war, alone and companionless yet again. You won your solitude back. You won the animosity of another frenemy. You won the complete destruction of another life. You won the sweet, masochistic corrosion of your own life. Who needs friends when you can have frenemies? Who else do you need to confide in other than the angels and demons inside your head? And when others start to get jealous and tell you “It’s all in your head,” you know that it is all in your head – planned out exactly the way you want it.

Tic. Tac. Toe.