First, let me just say that there’s a legally compliant way to run a blood drive for elementary school students (boring!), and then there’s the right way to run a blood drive for elementary school students. For those of you who think we’ve done it the wrong way—just because we got hit with a few tiny fines and a pending lawsuit, I can assure you there is still no one on this board more qualified than me for the job.
Sure, we got off to a less-than-ideal start when students and parents alike complained that the flyers were illegible. They weren’t able to decipher “where the event was held” or “how to participate” or “what time is it even” but they were thinking too small. The important thing was that the font on the flyers exactly matched that of the art nouveau version of the original 1922 Nosferatu movie poster. If this community can’t appreciate basic allusion, that’s on them.
And yeah, I already apologized for blowing the budget on dry ice and coffins, okay? That one’s on me. But, frankly, inflation should have been factored into the budget in the first place. No one listened when I said dry ice prices were on the rise, and that it costs an average of 20% more per month to fill my house with it. Then somehow it’s a surprise when it took $400 worth to properly outfit the gymnasium.
Plus, those coffins were real. I’ll have you know that I covered the shipping costs myself. Anyone else here wanna guess how much time and money it takes to ship a half-dozen exhumed coffins to the Richmond suburbs via a creaky ship from Romania? A lot.
Also, like, on whose authority did those EMTs report us to the state for collecting the blood in engraved silver carafes and 18-century leech vials? They hold way more than those little plastic bags. I was doing them a favor. Just because one child dropped their vial, got lost in the dry ice fog, slipped on the blood, and landed in a coffin where no one could see or him for 2 hours (or hear his screams over the sound of Goodbye Horses playing on a loop), doesn’t mean it was an inherently bad idea.
Anyway, all that aside, I motion that I should be able to retain my event organizer title. I’m willing to fall on my sword here (technically, it’s Elizabeth Bathory’s ceremonial dagger, but it’ll do just as well) and assume responsibility for this whole thing. And I promise next month’s Headless Turkey Trot Corn Maze will go a lot smoother.