MINIPROMPT: How Would You Rub Your {Olympic} Gold in Your Enemy’s Face?

Imagine you won a gold medal at this year’s Olympics. Now, you’re back in your hometown and you happen to come across a childhood bully, mean teacher, or other person who made your life hellish. WHAT DO YOU DO?

Sydney Walters

Kill them with kindness. Keep it classy, but also make sure they can smell my designer fragrance. ✨

Dennis William

I’m sorry, do we know each other?

Kelaine Conochan

Oh, hey coach. Funny running into you here at your old person gym, exactly where I expected to.

You look good! Yeah, I love how you went ahead and wiped away the dried spit from the corners of your mouth. It’s a good look. What am I wearing? What are YOU wearing? Another tattered parachute suit? CLASSIC!

No, but seriously, this? This is an Olympic gold medal. Yeah, it’s amazing what happens when your coaches decide not to play head games and inexplicably bench you for two seasons, even when you’ve been the fittest player on the roster and the captains have repeatedly appealed to your coach to put you in the lineup.

Anyway, I came here specifically to tell you that I didn’t win this out of spite for you. I won it to spite Gloria, who called me a man in gym class that one time. I think she dropped out? OH, I also own this gym now. You’re no longer a member.

Michael Maiello

My Dear Professor Ubu of the Yale School of Drama graduate playwriting program, who would have known there was even such an Olympic event as the creation of surrealist comic masterpieces for the stage? I’m certainly glad you had no use for me. in your program, Pere Ubu, for if you had, I’d be saddled with loans rather than adorned, as I am, with gold. You are dismissed, good man.

Sarah Razner

Like I do with most people I went to high school with, I’d avoid them. Just because I have a gold medal does not mean my personality has changed – although, I would get close enough to let them glimpse the gold medal and let them think, “was that the Olympian Sarah Razner?” You bet it was.

Jillian Conochan

“Hello, boys with the last names A through H from the 7A homeroom class of Dwight D. Eisenhower Junior High School.” I remove a pair of sunglasses, rummage through my designer handbag, and put on a different pair of sunglasses. (It’s impolite to have a conversation in mirrored sunglasses.)

“How strange to see you here, right now, all in the same place. So—funny story—it turns out they do give out Olympic medals to people for dressing ‘so fucking weird.’ It’s called Most Original and I just earned gold.”

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