Prepping for the Speech: Conservative Values, Classroom Dressing Rooms, and a Hefty Surprise

Alright, so here’s the deal. I’ve been putting in the work, practicing my speech on conservative values for this local organization. I’m talking pacing the room, running through my points until they sound smooth but still real — like a guy who’s been around the rink enough times to know when to be serious and when to keep it casual. It’s a balancing act between sounding collegiate and keeping that down-to-earth vibe.

Mitchell’s riding with me on the way there, cool as a cucumber. I can tell he’s probably thinking about his own stuff or maybe just enjoying the ride, but he’s quiet, focused. When we pull up, he heads straight to the back, to this classroom-style dressing room where he’s waiting for me. You know the type — plain walls, folding chairs, that weird institutional smell that makes you want to breathe through your mouth. Mitchell’s sitting there, probably going over his own mental checklist or just zoning out.

Now, right before I’m about to step out on stage, I decide to lighten the mood — locker room style. I lean over and let out a hefty fart, and I mean hefty. It’s the kind of blast that fills the room and lingers like a bad penalty call. The stench hits Mitchell like a slap shot to the face, and he immediately makes that classic “stank face” — you know the one, where your nose crinkles up and your eyes squint like you just smelled something foul enough to clear the rink.

Without missing a beat, I look him dead in the eye and say, “No Pampers change for you until after the speech.” It’s that kind of brotherly ribbing that keeps us grounded — a reminder that no matter how polished or serious things get, there’s always room for a little mischief.

So there I am, walking out on stage, ready to deliver my speech with all the gravitas it deserves, but knowing full well that Mitchell’s back there, holding his breath, probably plotting his revenge or just trying to survive the stank. It’s moments like these that make the whole experience real — the mix of seriousness and silliness, the camaraderie that keeps us both sane.

And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.