When this crooked mentality is passed onto the contestants' very own daughters in years to come the sinister cycle is completed and limitless profit is assured for organizations like the National Miss Preteen and Preteen Petite Pageant. A couple hours later tonight's competition comes to a merciful and unbelievably welcome end. The Dyke and I stagger out of the Wendy Williamson Auditorium, our minds adequately numbed by the most idiotic thing either of us have ever witnessed in our entire lives. The Director glares at me through vindictive eyes, her spiteful expression not changing one bit as the Dyke and I climb into my Awesome 1984 Dodge MiniVan and commence speeding off into the Holy Alaskan Night. All Rights Reserved.
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