Jack sat down in his chair. The stadium was very large and full almost to capacity. In fact, there'd been a line several blocks long outside, but luckily Jack had been able to circumvent it. To his right sat Jack's two partners. Everyone in the stadium had been teamed up in groups of three. Jack's group was seated fairly high up, but they had a good view of the proceedings.
Behind them, one trio pulled out small models and began explaining their project. This worried Jack; he hadn't known about this part. Did this mean his trio had to have models? How was he to have known that?
Eventually, Jack's two partners started to present. Sure enough, they both had small dioramas of what looked like a biblical garden scene. They didn't strike Jack as particularly impressive, but either way, Jack didn't have one.
Once his partners were done, all eyes turned to Jack.
"And you, Jack?" prompted the emcee from the center of the arena. Jack leaned forward towards the microphone, trying to plan what he was going to say. He thought that perhaps some eloquence might soften the backlash of public opinion against him.
"It seems," Jack began slowly, his amplified voice echoing off the stadium walls, "that I misunderstood the directions. I don't have a project, and for that I apologize. I will get working and present one, uh, post-haste...yeah."
"Any idea what your project will be?" yelled someone from behind Jack.
"Oh, I don't know," replied Jack with heavy and obvious sarcasm, "I was thinking some kind of diorama? Or a model, maybe?"
To Jack's satisfaction, there were a few light, appreciative chuckles throughout the stadium, and oddly, uproarious and prolonged laughter from a small pocket of people further down.
