Ned found himself standing outside of the 12th Annual Competition Commission Convention hall. Having spent the last few weeks working tirelessly to bring everyone together and handle all the logistics he was finally able to sit back and marvel at his obscene efforts. 

Tall banners fluttered in the breeze, proudly displaying the Seal of the Competition Commission. The vibrant colors were designed to catch the eye and reflect the dynamic nature of the Competition Commission. The convention entrance doors were adorned with flowers from the meticulously manicured gardens surrounding the hall. The lush greenery and fancy goat pens created a picturesque backdrop for the 12th Annual Competition Commission Convention and gave everything a bit of tranquility in such a high energy atmosphere.

The sound of chatter and laughter filled the air and the attendees began to arrive and line up for entrance to the convention. The sense of anticipation and camaraderie only added to the energetic atmosphere. As more and more attendees arrived the plaza outside the convention quickly became a massive gathering spot for competition elite and competitors. Impromptu meet and greets and many animated discussions were occurring all over. A sense of excitement permeated the plaza as the doors to the 12th Annual Competition Commission Convention were officially opened. 

The first stop on the way into the 12th Annual Competition Commission Convention is the registration table. Competition Commission volunteers diligently greeted attendees with warm smiles and swift efficiency. Name tags were distributed with ruthless speed and deadly accuracy. Many attendees had a nametag pinned to them before they were able to finish handing over their documents.  

Amid the throngs of attendees and darting volunteer hands; Ned stood by overseeing the entire process, ensuring that everyone felt welcomed and ready to dive into the day's events. 

After stepping away from the registration table attendees are funneled into the main exhibition hall. Stepping into the exhibition hall the attendee is able to pause and take in the grandeur. The hall is alive with stalls and booths showcasing the latest innovations and competition related ideas. The sounds of laughter and conversation assails the ears and the entire hall is a treasure trove of excitement. 

Attendees were able to explore the hall as they wished and experience the thousands of different exhibits, meet fellow competition runners, and of course acquire all the best swag they could find. Already many attendees carried Competition Commission branded water bottles, hats, and tote bags and there was so much more to discover. 

As you head deeper into the convention, the exhibition hall is sectioned off into smaller rooms for the different panel discussions, hands on experience and case studies. A full day’s worth of expert-led panel discussions delving into the intricacies of Competitive Competitions and rigorous debates on competition policy and regulations.  

Ned spent much of his time weaving his way through the different workshops and discussions offering encouragement or entering into debates with attendees and panel members. He could never help himself from getting involved in competition related discussions. 

After an intense morning of activity the next stop for many attendees of the 12th Annual Competition Commission Convention was the networking lunch. Ned had spared no expense bringing in world-class chefs from all over the world. With an array of delectable dishes there was something for every palette. Ned made sure that every attendee was fed and received exactly what they needed to refuel, refresh and reenergize for the rest of the day’s events.  

After lunch attendees are left to browse the exhibition hall and take part in real world case studies. As the sun begins to set on the first day of the convention attendees are called to gather once more in the main exhibition hall for the closing keynote speech. The main stage is positioned at the center of the hall. The elevated stage allowed the speaker to be seen from every corner of the room. Strategically placed spotlights illuminated the stage, casting a warm glow on the speaker. 

On the stage was a slim wooden lectern with the Seal of the Competition Commission. Ned stood by patiently waiting for the speaker to arrive. Until then he continued to survey the room from his vantage point. Taking in the wonderful sights of the 12th Annual Competition Commission Convention, he was struck by how perfectly happy everyone was. 

Sniffler patted Keith on his neck and scratched him between his horns. Keith loved this. He nuzzled and bleated. 

“Soon my old friend, soon.”

Sniffler placed his black magnificent top hat atop his head, straightened his cravat and mounted Keith carefully.  

“Off we go Keith, onwards to the Competition Commission Convention”

Keith reared upwards his eyes glinting in the sunlight and springing forward they were off. His white coat shimmered as he raced through the streets of Philadelphia as the bell around his rang out in warning. Pedestrians jumped to the side and marvelled at the rambunctious goat marauding the streets while his elegant aristocratic anteater friend sat upon his back, his blue cape billowing in the wind. 

Before long the two friends arrived at the Competition Commission Convention Centre. Dismounting Sniffler admired the tall banners as they fluttered in the wind. Sniffler nodded to Keith and pointed towards the complementary goat pens. What spiffing gents he thought to himself as he gazed at the Competition Commission Seal. It was getting harder and harder to find goat parking these days. Sniffler sighed to himself. As he entered the building he looked back to make sure Keith was settled and chuckled to himself as Keith munched on top quality hay, the Sammy the competition commission seal swam in his enclosure next door. 

Upon his arrival Sniffler was whisked past all the ordinary attendees. He was an extraordinary anteater of remarkable talents. He smiled and doffed his top hat to people as he wandered through the halls. His cane clicked on the ground as he used it to aid his progress. He wiped his brow with his handkerchief and  returned it to his top pocket. Amongst the crowd he spotted a familiar face. @TheWanderingJew was ambling his way across the floor to greet Sniffler. Mopping his brow once more, Sniffler accidentally dropped his handkerchief. TheWanderingJew quickly caught it. He admired it for a second and turned it over. In gold embroidered letters were BBB and GOATS. Below this read the line, gone but not forgotten, never forget those that went before. Quickly Sniffler retrieved the handkerchief for TheWanderingJew and pat him on the shoulder.  Sniffler smiled and continued upon his way.

Sniffler attended many of the workshops. It was a wonderful morning. He was enthused at the broad range of the discussions and workshops. It was a most excellent conference. But now was time for the main event. Sniffler strolled towards the main hall and took a seat near the front. He placed his hat, cane and cape on the seat next to him and he waited for the keynote session to begin. 

TheRealHarold got up on the main stage, spotlights beaming at him from multiple directions. Above the stage a painted sign saying 'Five simple tricks to amplify your competition's engagement, competitivity metrics, and community-funded prize pools' had been hung. His forehead was slightly perspirated, but the sweat seemed to roll off his iconic monobrow like water off a duck's back. He walked towards the centre of the stage, the spotlights followed him closely. He was handed a microphone by a stageboy and began thus.

"HELLO LOYAL LISTENERS. I am proud to be given the opportunity to hold the closing speech of this... wonderful convention." TheRealHarold raised his free hand over his eyes to shield them from the spotlights as he looked out into the crowd, it could be observed that he spent a good 10 seconds looking around, as if he was trying to find something or someone specific rather than getting a general idea of the audience. "I see that we have many attendants this year, I suppose that was to be expected given the CC's impeccable track record."

TheRealHarold started pacing around the stage. "It goes without saying that we all share a passion for competitions, today I wish to give you 5 simple tricks to increase the effectiveness of your own competitions and help you succeed in the Competitionosphere." He came to a stop at the centre of the stage, faced the audience directly and made his free hand cut forward in sync with the rhythm of his words to emphasize what he was saying. "Competitions. are. relevant. to. us. all. We need competitions for a better future. And you, my dear audience, are the Competition Hosts of tomorrow." TheRealHarold pointed the index finger of his free hand directly at the audience. "YOU. are the future of the Competiton Commission."

The audience clapped enthousiastically. TheRealHarold lowered the speed of his talking to show he was getting serious.

SIMPLE TRICK NUMBER 1: OPT FOR COMPETITIVE WRITING COMPETITIONS WHEN POSSIBLE

"Everybody knows that the best competition is one which is exciting. Is there anything more exciting than a Competitive Writing Competition (CWC)? People still talk of Lincoln_Lawyer's CWC, a Competition that made it into the history books. Hosting a CWC is nowhere near as dangerous as it used to be, thanks to the protection that the CC offers to both hosts, entrants and non-entrants alike. Yet the thrill of a CWC is still there and attracts many thrill-seeking entrants."

"In short, a CWC is a shortcut to success. Use it when possible, but take into account Competition-Category Saturation levels of The Streets. Nobody wants to see 4 CWCs running at the same time. That would be silly and offensive."

TheRealHarold walked over to his glass of water, sniffed it several times, and eventually took a sip. He also pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead for several seconds for some inexplicable reason, almost as if trying to push something invisible inside of his cranium.

SIMPLE TRICK NUMBER 2: STAY AWAY FROM DONATION COMPETITIONS

A stageboy walked on stage holding a cardboard sign with a graph on it. The text beneath is was unreadable but surely the graph was an indication that whatever advice came next was based on on empirical data and therefore 100% trustworthy.

"If there is one thing that isn't exciting, it's a donation competition. Who wants to partake in an uninspired competition where there is no prize save the shameful feeling of knowing you're the number one patsy for whoever your boss is? Truly this is the only form of competition where, contrary to Competition Commission Regulations, the non-entrants are the winners. This makes it a borderline illegal affair and should therefore be avoided."

TheRealHarold's speech hastened, there was a stutter here and there, almost as if he was in a hurry or was experiencing some form of stage fright.

SIMPLE TRICK NUMBER 3: ALWAYS EXPLICITLY STATE TERMS FOR NON-ENTRANTS

"If there is one thing that can make any competition into a big stink, it's interference by non-entrants. Never, I repear NEVER, award the main prize to a non-entrant (a stunt often perpetrated by the guerilla group known as 'kuku'). This is a competition-capital offense as defined by Competition Commission Constitution and punishable by a ban from hosting competitions altogether."

"Also always mention in the competition's rules that non-entrants do not get prizes. If you find people saying 'That's common sense and you don't have to state that non-entrants don't get a prize' then do not be swayed by their malicious demagoguery. Always be explicit. Not stating it upfront is a one way street to being flooded with non-entrants clamouring for a prize like the rabid dogs they are."

TheRealHarold looked frantically around the audience. The armpits and collar of his exquisitely professionally tailored suit were beginning to get visibly damp.

SIMPLE TRICK NUMBER 4: .................

TheRealHarold took one final look around the audience. His eyes were darting around the place, he looked visibly distressed.

"Alright, look. I've come here to tell you something far more important than some empty Competition hullabaloo. OH, YOU THOUGHT I WAS HERE TO ENLIGHTEN YOU LOT ON HOW TO RUN COMPETITIONS? Wrong. It's a DISGRACE, the whole Competition Commission and this entire convention. I am not Harold The Journalist, but an agent sent here by... my superiors." Part of the audience started heckling TheRealHarold. The stagehand holding up the graph dropped it in panic, and could be seen running off to find their superior. The clock was ticking. TheRealHarold continued on regardless, his speech growing ever more panicked and distraught by the minute.

"Listen, did nobody notice how TheHarold died several days ago, not to an enemy of The Free Press like TheBeast or DeadlikeDead, but to a random duel? TheHarold was known to only take duels he is certain he can win. So how did he lose this duel? It's simple, I replaced the bullets in his gun with blanks while he was sleeping under a bridge the night before (he was homeless after all, no?). His fate was sealed. Then after the duel, I quickly introduced myself to Ned_Harrrington as his son. A ruse."

A random member of the audience shouted "This is just more of that journo-crap, you're lying!".

"Oh yes!?" TheRealHarold exclaimed frantically. "I can prove I am a fake!" TheRealHarold raised his index finger and thumb to his forehead, and ripped off the middle part of what was thought to be his monobrow. This revealed that, actually, he just has a normal pair of eyebrows and could therefore OBVIOUSLY not be a descendant of TheHarold. Gasps were heard from the audience. A female visitor shrieked and fainted. "Who I am or who sent me here is not important. What matters is that you take me seriously and listen to my honest plea."

A Competition Commission branded water bottle was flung at TheRealHarold. It didn't matter anymore.

SIMPLE TRICK NUMBER 5: REVOLT

"The Competition Commission is a bureaucratic, rapidly expanding autocracy. They scheme behind the scenes to steer the six cities in whatever direction fits their agenda, they silence their detractors and make a constant effort to expand their influence. Do not be fooled by the amicable show they have put on for this convention, they are not your friends, behind the scenes they're a ruthless cabal. If we don't stand up and do something to put a stop to this, no competition will be able to escape the long arms of the Competition Commission in the near future."

"The People will lose the ability to run competitions as they see fit, everything will be beaten into a bureaucratically deliberated inflexible mould of regulations. The people will lose their Freedom of Competitions, it will be the death of creativity as we know it. We will enter an age of Systematic Immolation of Thought unlike anything ever seen before. Therefore, my dear audience, I call onto thee to REVOLT. Fight against the CC and its rules. Have unsanctioned competitions. REVOLT."

"If you are not yet swayed I shall now reveal the greatest and perhaps most evil trick in the CC's book which goes by the following codename: Emergency Plan Fourty Si-" *BANG*.

Georgette Plunkett-Ernle-Erle-Drax was absolutely loving the time she was spending in America. Georgette had taken this experience and opportunity offered to her to be The Competition Commission International Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Diplomatic Relations Chief Chancellor's Intern(For the summer school holidays) and decided to absolutely learn as much as she could about the country, the people and what it was like to truly be diplomatic amongst the people. 

When the invitation to attend the 12th Annual Competition Commission Convention, Georgette had nearly wept at the brilliance of it all. Finally, a chance to get in a large room with everyone who was of the same mindset as she, and truly have some time together to be diplomatic and build up those relations...hips that she was currently being paid to do. It was practically perfect in every way. 

Arriving to the 12th Annual Competition Commission Convention Hall, Georgette stood outside and gazed up in wonder at the flags flying, the sun shining, the smell of homeless drunkard piss on the pavement. America was one of the most special places in the world, that was for sure. 

At the door, Georgette showed her pass to the greeter and smiled, about to introduce herself when she was just waved inside, as to not hold up the line. "Interesting." Georgette thought, ready to complain to someone, but then realized that wouldn't be very diplomatic of herself, so she carried on following the crowd in. And what a crowd it was. 

Honestly, at a modest just over 5-foot-tall-if-she-stretched, Georgette was struggling to see everything. Why did so many of these convention attendees wear fedoras? Why were so many of them smelly? Wait, was that one over there tipping his hat in a weird bow and saying, "M'Lady"? Georgette quickly turned to move in any direction that was not near that one person and realized she needed to get moving if she wanted to see everything that the glorious 12th Annual Competition Commission Convention had to offer someone named Georgette Plunkett-Ernle-Erle-Drax who was The Competition Commission International Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Diplomatic Relations Chief Chancellor's Intern(For the summer school holidays). 

Ned was still shaking in rage, the gun in his hand trembled as he watched TheRealHarold’s lifeless body fall to the ground. The level of blaspheme he heard in that “speech” was more than he could bare. The Competition Commission’s judgment was swift and deadly. As Ned began to steady his breathing he turned his attention to the crowd of stunned on-lookers. Holstering his gun, Ned straightened his suit jacket, removed his handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his face. 

“Attention everyone! May I please have your attention! As you can all see this man was an IMPOSTER! He is a FAKE and a LIAR. Do not believe the things you have heard. He claimed to be a descendant of the great and famous Harold, but his eyebrows are more separated than Stiffler’s parents. On behalf of the Competition Commission I apologize that you’ve had to listen to such DRIVEL. I can assure you all a full investigation will be brought worth and justice will be served!   

Ned stepped away from the microphone and waved to several Competition Commission volunteers off-stage. After a few moments of conferring in silence, one of the volunteers removes a large Competition Commission banner from the stage, wrapped it around the body of TheRealHarold and drug it off stage. 

Ned sighed at the bloodstain left on the stage floor. “Not a bad Day 1.”  
 

Can you conform, deny, or clarify if Tilly's death was CC related? 

What a great keynote from Harold. I loved the fireworks at the end. As I watched the interns struggle to pull his corpse off the stage, I was reminded of all the hard work it took to build this organization into the powerhouse bureaucratic institution it is today, capable of hosting conventions in which barely anyone gets murdered. That's something to be celebrated. Real Harold, fake Harold, phooey, what matters is his main point: nobody likes earnings competitions and the facade of begging for money via 'activities' is the lamest behavior possible. Thank you Harold. 

What do we have in store for day 2? Will GiannaSchmianni be providing a seminar on driving Vespas around fountains while catcalling women? I know those are big in the Italian competition scene.