The Meatball Incident
Backstage smells like hairspray, panic, and — weirdly — marinara. Brayden, the lead, is being wheeled out clutching his ankle and screaming about a rogue meatball. Before you can process anything, Ms. Tannenbaum shoves a velvet cape into your arms.
"You're on in ninety seconds, Pemberton. Don't blow it."
You don't remember a single line. Not one.
Your first move sets the tone for the entire disaster.