Once upon a time, there was a CDA student who wanted power.
Reaching a position of power in the CDA community, however, is not easy. This particular CDA student tried his luck with the International Model United Nations (IMUN) exams in his first year and, with luck, got in. I personally checked his exam though, and he isn’t that good, especially with his use of grammar. Despite that, he made it, and he’s very proud of that fact.
Well, this CDA student isn’t part of the rank and file anymore. With his success with the IMUN, he moved on from being one of the delegates on the receiving end of training methods, to being a head delegate who’s the one giving out orders to the underlings. Despite that though, he carries scars. The people who trained him in his early years were tough, and he learned to hate the world. Maybe the whole ordeal even made him a little mad. Constant speeches and papers were enough to make anyone…crazy.
Still, he’s in a position of power now, which meant one thing: he can do what his superiors did to him in the past. He can power-trip, he can humiliate the people below him, and maybe he can do better than the people from his past in terms of terrorizing newbies. He’s good at that. He’s great. He has mad skills. Really, really mad.
He’s been head delegate for months. He has about a dozen people directly under him, people who are supposed to follow his every command and cower when he enters a room, people so afraid of him that they will never stand up for themselves, no matter what he does. Oh, he loves the power–the feel of the adrenaline coursing through his body as he rattles off curses at every delegate trying to give a speech, the heady sensation that comes with humiliating another human being. It’s intoxicating.
Tonight was a good example of just how great he is. He’s so great, he deserves a PhD in Horribleness. He walked into training, all mighty and proud, and looked at all the people who he has power over. To kick off his master plan, he asked his delegates what they think the problems were regarding his training methods.
The delegates, surprised at his sudden show of concern and seeming democracy, were unable to answer at first. He solved that by letting a bit of his old self show. He shouted at them. “Why aren’t any of you talking? Idiots!” With that incentive, they started rattling off answers, as if he cared about any of their petty problems.
Some complained that a 6-hour daily training schedule was too much, they had so little time to study and finish their assignments for the delegation. Some complained that he was giving out too much work. What, are a couple of two-page speeches every day too much? Idiots!
After they were done with their complaining, he laughed. Oh, he can pull off a really maniacal laugh when he wanted to, and this was one of those great times. These people really thought he cared about what they thought. So cute! It was just one of those things that you need to do before you kick someone in the mud. The adrenaline was starting to pool and bubble in his chest.
“What kind of problems are those? So petty and full of crap! If you can’t handle the way you’re being trained, then leave the fucking delegation! I can afford to lose some of you, I don’t really care who! As far as I’m concerned, all of you are idiots!”
“Now, you have five minutes to write three-minute speeches. Make it good, or else.”
Five minutes passed by fast. He could see that some of the delegates still weren’t done with their speeches. So much the better. That means there will be more chances to humiliate some of them. Oh, this is gonna be good.
The delegates took turns delivering their speeches, and most of them were crap, like he expected. His twisted logic saw this as an opportunity to showcase his brilliance and to rub in the fact that the delegates under him were idiots of the first order.
“You fucking morons! You call that a speech? I could have made something a whole lot better with less time and with my eyes closed! Idiots!” He pointed randomly at five people in the delegation. “You five, go to the back and write speeches about how stupid you are. You know you’re stupid, so don’t hold back. Tell us, in detail, how much of an idiot you all can be.”
The delegates looked at him, a mix of emotions on their faces. He could tell that some of them wanted to punch him, but he couldn’t care less. He had the power in this room. None of them would be stupid enough to go against him in his home turf.
When none of them started writing, he got really really pissed off. “Idiots!” He pointed to people seated to the side. “You three, staple a piece of paper together to make a crown. Tonight, we’re going to crown the king, or queen, of idiots, and I’m going to choose from all of you.”
His eyes scanned a crowd, and finally settled on one of the newbies, one of those who’s never been on an IMUN before–in other words, fresh meat. Her eyes met his and an understanding passed between them. She knew what was going to happen. He could see it in her eyes, which were already brimming with tears that were ready to fall.
He walked up to the chosen one, grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her to the front. He grabbed the paper crown from the other delegates, pulled out a sharpie from his pocket (he always has one handy, you never know when you need to draw on people’s faces or something), and wrote the word ‘IDIOT’ on the crown.
He raised the crown above his head, like Rafiki did to Simba, and slowly put it on the head of the chosen one. The girl was shivering, her face wet with tears and her fists balled at her side. She was on the brink of having a serious nervous breakdown. Oh, how fun.
“Hail,” he said, “hail to the queen of idiots!”
This might seem a little over the top–which is the point, since this is supposed to be a caricature of the things that happen during IMUN training–but trust me, it happens. It’s happening. And it needs to stop. Right now. Before a power-tripper gets their face bashed in by concerned parents or friends. Before the school gets dragged into the whole mess with cases of bullying. Before anyone else gets hurt.
This is a major issue. Don’t let it get worse.