Come gather round, new freshmen all,

 whether you’re large or whether you’re small,

 not one can doubt the frightening tale

 of an HB student named George T. Hale.

George was a bright kid – made only straight A’s –

 as well as a techie for APA’s first plays.

He had decent friends, not a bad egg among ‘em,

 especially not his best friend, Pete Dunham.

Pete was an actor and a good one at that,

 who always tucked his latest script under his hat –

 a blue Angels cap, slightly tattered and torn –

 that he wore all the time since the day he was born.

George and Pete while walking home one day

 bumped into George’s girlfriend – her name was Faye.

Faye was an actress, the best APA had.

 (That's not saying much though, they were all pretty bad!)

On that day, Faye had some wonderful news.

“Guess what, George” she screamed, jumping out of her shoes.

“What?” George replied. “What?” queried Pete.

“I got the lead in the play!” yelled Faye, hardly discreet.

“And you Pete, you got – of course – you must know...

 ...you got the other lead! You are Romeo!”

(Pete was so stunned he could only say “Woah.”)

George chimed in, saying, “Hey, I’m teching.”

Faye smiled big and soon they were necking.

Pete stood round awkwardly as George and Faye made out.

You may feel bad, but have no doubt,

 by the end of this story, Pete will have his turn

 and George will teach a lesson from which all can learn.

Rehearsals for “Romeo and Juliet” flew by,

 but Faye couldn’t get her lines down, hard as she might try.

So the evening before the very first show,

 Faye told George where she would go.

“I have to go over to Pete’s to practice my lines

 so that for tomorrow’s show I will be just fine.”

Then after a kiss, Faye drove away,

 but she made a mistake that would lead to dismay.

On top of a box, sitting stage right,

 her script lay clearly visible in the light.

“I should take it to her,” George said as he got in his car,

“learning lines without a script, you can’t get very far.”

He pulled up to Pete’s and opened the door

 and heard something funny on the second floor.

George walked upstairs and toward the sound;

 he was not prepared for what he found.

Peeking inside his friend Pete’s room

 was as if he was staring at his own doom.

His girlfriend, Faye, and Pete were necking (as well as other things!)

 but George’s life was what they wrecking.

George set down the script and left the house,

 moving quickly and quietly as a mouse.

The next evening shortly before the show,

 Faye tried to find her “original” Romeo.

Pete hadn’t seen George; no one knew where he was at.

Also, Pete could not find his lucky baseball hat.

“The show must go on,” the director said to the cast,

“Hurry up and get ready,” he yelled, “Fast!”

The show went as planned, at least until that scene,

  where Juliet sees Romeo underneath the balcony.

When Pete said, “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon,”

 George fell from above – the moment so opportune.

A noose hung around George’s neck so tight

 and on his head the Angels cap, a softly said “good night.”

Written on a poster-board taped to his hand,

“You have killed the most envious moon in this land.”

And thus is the story of how George came to be

 residing in this theatre of historic HB.

So believe what techies tell you and thank them for all they do.

For, as we have seen, techies need love too.

by Alex Syiek - first told to incoming APA freshmen, August 21, 2008