Junior Juicers

By: Ethan S. and Jongha C.

     Tug-of-war is a hallowed tradition of physical competition and excellence at Lancaster Country Day School. The juniors have dragged the competition away over the past two years, making victory for other classes unimaginable. But, like A-Rod hitting a home run, they have had help from what they like to call “Cougar Blood.” Cougar Blood is a common name for cranberry juice, one of the most potent enhancers of strength known to man.

     The juniors have used their innovative strategies to win tug-of-war since they were freshmen. Here at Fourth Estate, we used our legendary investigative skills to uncover the juniors’ cranberry juice ring; unfortunately, school policy does not allow us to name people in articles. For that reason, we will call the juniors’ leader Mr. Fisherburger On June 1, 2011, Mr. Fisherburger, Class of ‘15, realized that his class was too scrawny to win tug-of-war if they relied on brute strength. Nobody in their grade was even five feet tall at this time, and they routinely had to ask for help opening doors. But Mr. Fisherburger would not be content with losing. He studied the intricate physics of pulling a rope over a line, and he realized his class could win, if they applied knowledge.

     Cranberry juice was discovered by the Ancient Egyptians. It comes from a distillation of pure cranberries, soaked in the mud of the Nile and the blood of the pharaohs, and aged in the cracks between the bricks of the pyramids at Giza. Within years of its discovery, people all over the world flocked to Egypt on a pilgrimage for cranberry juice, in order to gain knowledge. Mr. Fisherburger knew that desperate times call for desperate measures, so he got the best. Within days, the members of the Class of 2015 were sipping their cranberry juice through straws all day, every day. By the time the all school picnic rolled around, they had the strategy of the gods locked away between their ears.

     Fisherburger brought his class together during the summer to tell them his god-given plan. For the three months of vacation the soon-to-be-freshmen bought and drank enough cranberry juice to drown a whale. Then, they waited for the All School Picnic.

     The 2011-2012 year began and the day of the All School Picnic came soon enough. The clock finally hit three, meaning the school day was over, and the tug-of-war just a few hours away. Fisherburger corralled all of the freshmen to the locker room to have one more swig of their beloved cranberry juice. What had been tiny eighth graders the past year were now unrecognizable as they rolled into the gym, a colossal wave of black. This was the moment of truth: The thousands spent on their juice would mean absolutely nothing if they lost. The sweaty palms of the freshmen tightly grabbed the old rope of fate. Mr. Simpson signaled the start of the battle and Fisherburg’s freshmen pulled. Gallons upon gallons of cranberry juice paid off, as the opposing tuggers collapsed to the floor.

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