A Heartfelt Eulogy Before We Are All Ritually Sacrificed and Consumed

Classmates, cultists, and tentacled monstrosities lend me your ears.  

Boy, that’s not the way I ever thought I’d start a speech.  Now that I’ve said it, I’m beginning to wonder if those creatures even have ears.  Does a squid have ears?  So far, I’ve only seen a few enormous tentacles emerge from the crater lake sporting suckers the size of car tires.

Ugh, I’m rambling.  Nerves, you know?  I’m better with time to rehearse in front of a mirror.

I’d like to start by thanking the cultists for giving me a chance to say a few words.

I’m sorry.  Is it, though?  I wouldn’t have thought--

No, no, perfectly alright.  I don’t want to be insensitive.  I’m being told that the preferred terminology is Acolytes of the Dark God of the Fathomless Depths.  Which you must admit is a mouthful.  Can I just call you Acolytes?  Yes?  Perfect.

So I want to start by thanking the Acolytes for giving me a chance to make a few remarks.  

Fine Josh, last words.  Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.

Anywho, as our debate coach, Mr. Bellevue, always says, never yield your time if you can think of something to say, so here goes:

My fellow Sherman Island Magnet High School classmates, thank you for the time we’ve spent together and the memories we’ve shared.  Unfortunately, senior year is looking less likely by the minute.  Now that our class president, Beth Johnson, has been lowered over the crater’s side into the opaque waters below like some sort of gruesome amuse-bouche, I am the highest-ranking living member of the student government.  That makes it my duty and honor to speak to you one last time.

No, Josh, it doesn’t matter that I was appointed secretary after losing to Beth.  I’m still a class officer.  Stop splitting hairs.  Plus, we both know you voted for Beth, even though you were my best friend since first grade.  I know exactly why too.  And I still think you’re gross.

We’ll all miss Beth.  Some us...ahem...more than others.   Ryan, Brad, the rest of you--I know who you are.

I think I can safely say that this field trip hasn’t gone the way that anyone might have envisioned.  If you will recall, part of my campaign platform was for a class trip to Washington, D.C.  It would have fit perfectly with our U.S. History curriculum.  We could have gone in the spring and seen the cherry blossoms.  But no, you guys told me that museums and monuments would be boring.  How cool would it be to explore an extinct volcano?  You made your bed.  Now let’s see how much you enjoy being ritually sacrificed in it.  

Shut up, Brad.  You had your turn to talk already, and you just kept blubbering ‘Oh, God’ over and over again.  I’m pretty sure the Acolytes think you were trying to worship with them.  I bet they’re ready to fit you for one of those nifty cowled robes.

Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at anyone.  I don’t want to bring down the mood.  

Come on, guys, laugh!  That was a joke.

 Anyway, we had some good times, right?  Our football team went undefeated in the conference this year!  Let’s give it up for the Wolfpack.  Aroooo!

No?  What about the chess club coming in runner-up at state?  Or the Environment Club raising $5,000 through bake sales, car washes, and a grant from the state government to help clean up the ocean?  

Acolytes, do you want to hear more about that?  I bet water pollution is a big deal, given your interests.  Or is your deity the result of some sort of nuclear waste spill?  Would that make you pro-pollution?  I feel like I don’t know what side you’d come down on.

Sorry!  I know I keep apologizing, but I feel like this is coming off a bit stream-of-consciousness.  I like to have note cards for debate.

Yes, Amanda, I see the tentacles waving.  You don’t know that they’re telling me to hurry up!  Maybe it’s their way of clapping.  Anyway, it’s my turn.  I have the conch, metaphorically speaking.

On a personal level, I had a pretty great year too.  I got a labradoodle with the cutest little puppy face named J.B. (short for Justin Bieber, of course).  I was on the honor roll first semester, and I’m pretty sure I’m on pace for the second semester, too, although I suppose now I’ll never know.  

I wish we’d made it to the end of high school together.  I was going to work as a lifeguard at the Bolingbrook community pool this summer.  I wanted to apply to colleges.  I wanted someone to ask me to senior prom.  I wanted to get past first base with a boy.

Shut up, Amanda!  We can’t all be sluts like you.

Wait, what’s happening?  Why are the acolytes dragging Amanda away from the pit? It looks like it’s somebody’s lucky day.  Tell my parents I love them.

Was it something I said?  

Oh my God.  

Don’t start, Brad.  It’s totally different when I say it.

Are those monsters only looking for virgin sacrifices?  Man, the jokes on you.  I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you definitely didn’t want to start by feeding it Beth.  How do you think she was elected class president?  She needed a few more votes to end up ‘on top.’  

Yes, I’m making air quotes.  Do you guys use those in your cult?  Look at the tentacles.  They’re bobbing along.  I think they get it.

Holy cow, those Acolytes are hightailing it out of here like their sackcloth is on fire.  It seems like they regret some of their life choices.  Like you should have, Josh.  You know, when you traded your vote for a blow job.

Should we all be fleeing?  That bobbing tentacle is looking less like air quotes and more like some sort of threat display.  

I know what an acting president should do. I’m ready to lead.

I urge you all to stay calm and head for the exit.  Let’s form a line, people.

What a minute, why are the tentacles reaching for me?  Did I say first base?  No, no, I’ve rounded the bases.  A bunch of times!  Do they play baseball down here?  I--