not to be trifled with

So..the much anticipated blog about the infamous dessert night showdown. After much careful preparation on both the freakishly awesome poem and beautiful trifle, I set out to the showdown. I have to pause here, just to catch anyone up who doesn't really know the stakes here. This competition has been going on for 6 weeks, with a different person/apartment preparing and presenting their dessert each week. The two with the highest scores are in the final. I am one of those two, the other group was a much beloved guys apartment in my ward, who during their first performance, dressed and danced the hula. So already, even before going, I am intimidated. They do not know this, and we have been smack talking back and forth for about a week. So, I am praying that all my efforts will live up to the hype. I get upstairs, and naturally the guys are not there, late as always. So with the help of a friend I start dishing up the first batch, and I leave the prettier batch for presentation. It is now 10:15 (event supposed to have begun at 10)..and in walks a painted guy. I cringe inside..they have dressed and painted themselves as oompa loompas, green hair included. They did not hold back, they prepared a pretty good dessert, white chocolate macadamia nut sheet cookie with ice cream on top. I feel I am beat before either one has presented. I start to freak out. Literally. A voice of reason basically conveyed that I needed to 'cowboy up'..and that my poem was awesome. So the guys arrange themselves as oompa loompas would (on their knees)..and begin the song "oompa loompa doopatey dee...." it is quite clever and funny. So..I get up there..all eyes on me..and with my best texas-accent and attitude..I recite my poem. There are cheers and laughter..particularly during the stanza about the boys themselves..and when I say "that's what she said"..there is actually applause. I feel quite pleased with the presentation..but at this point it could go either way. I begin serving my dessert..and in fact making sure everyone knows that it is mine..and that they should not forget to vote. So..we wait and wait. People have come in rather late..and are kind of more interested in socializing than voting. Finally the waiting is over..not before the oompa loompas attacked..and my face is now half orange. They gather us..and announce that the person who won gets a kung fu trophy because 'their dessert kicked butt'..and yeah that's right..I WON. I was pretty excited..and the guys were gracious losers..although the next day one commented that 'we were all winners.' Well, they have to tell themselves something.