Fencing Prank Gone Awfully Awry

As a result of a few simple miscalculations on my part and a prank that escalated way too quickly for anyone to control, last week I received a challenge to duel the entire women’s fencing team at Brown University.

Don’t ask me to rehash the embarrassing turn of events that led to my current circumstances. I don’t think it will do any good to tell the truth, but I respect my readers far too much to lie. As I always say, “Bad Newz, Mike” fans are the greatest fans of any bi-monthly college sports columnist in the contiguous United States. Let’s just leave it at this: fencers have honor, and fencers also have sabres, foils, and épées. When their honor is offended, fencers challenge you to a duel with their sabres, foils, and épées—the Brown women’s fencing squad can’t take a joke, so I found myself in a predicament.

The “duel,” if you can call it that, was supposed to go down like this. Yesterday, the final three rounds of the Ivy League fencing round robins went down in Providence. I was to arrive at Brown prior to the start of the second day of competition for the opening ceremony, in which I would face all 15 scorned and armed Brown women’s fencers. It is actually a centuries-old fencing ritual known as “Le Massacre du Cochon”—loosely translated, “the Slaughter of the Pig.”

Let me tell you, at first I felt bold enough to take on the entire team. I’ve never fenced before, it’s true, and what little fencing I’ve watched I’ve never really paid much attention to, but what I lack in experience and formal training I make up for by fighting dirty. I figured the Brown girls wouldn’t want to deal with me first thing in the morning. Could they really be totally gung-ho about teaching little ole me a lesson? I mean, who am I?

I’m Bad Newz Mike, damn right. Of course they want a piece of this, and I was totally ready to give it to them. Hell, I’d have given them more than just a piece—I would have given them a seven-course meal of the whoop whoop with a mint at the end. But then I used freetranslator.com to check on “Le Massacre du Cochon,” and it kind of freaked me out.

So instead of show up in Providence yesterday morning to be made into mincemeat for the Bears, I did the only thing I could do. I cowered and I cried. I can’t even say that I made it as far as Penn Station. I spent my entire Sunday literally hiding in my room alone, shades drawn, door locked. It was pathetic, I know, but I’d like to see you face 15 angry women with knives and training in the deadly art any better than I did.

As you can imagine, the Brown girls are pissed, and they were pretty angry before. I mean, first off, they really didn’t do all that well in the two days of Ivy round robins, and secondly, they are still pretty upset that I have thus far gotten away with doing what I do. They still want to teach me a lesson.

Thankfully, the Brown women’s fencing team is going to be pretty busy for the next month, which should delay my day of reckoning. They’ll be in Brandeis next week, the NCAA regionals in Boston on the 8th and the NCAA Championships starting on the 19th. So I’ve got a little time, but then again I’m trying to prepare for the worst—getting my affairs in order, making sure my will reflects my current feelings towards people, etc.

To my fans: Thanks for sticking around and for all the support you’ve given me in the past. Worse comes to worst, I’m probably going to have to call on you all for some help. The Brown fencers, they know where I live and I am sure that they want nothing more than to come to New York City and drive me from my home with swords and fencing garments as a flaming effigy. If anyone has a couch or some place for me to sleep until this whole thing blows over, it would be much appreciated. No cats or whole milk, please.

To those seeking revenge upon me, a final plea: There is no need to teach me a lesson. I get the point, and I’m sorry. I can’t say it won’t happen again, because it almost definitely will, but next time you won’t know it was me. And P.S.: Get a real weapon.

Mike Shannon is a Columbia College senior majoring in sociology.
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