Gather ’round children. Auntie Shanny is going to tell you a story about how being selfish never pays off. Listen up now.

When I was a little girl, I used to watch the Bozo Show on tv. It was a simple show with a creepy clown who picked kids from the audience and lead them through silly games of coordination and skill. My sister and I loved this show and we always dreamed of being on it someday ourselves. You can imagine our joy when one day our mother announced we were going! to! the! Bozo! Show!

I have no recollection of where this was being taped or how we managed to get on the show, but I distinctly remember standing backstage in a holding room with a billion other youthful fans. My mom stood close by while we waited for directions. Suddenly a lady walked in right in front of me and yelled above the shrieks of the children that YOU ALL NEED TO LINE UP IN FRONT OF ME! QUIETLY!

I was conveniently standing right in front of her, so I was automatically the first in line. My sister, Andrea, two years younger than me, was second. We all got cardboard crowns to wear for the show, and the lady who yelled at us to line up quietly sat down to write numbers on our crowns. I was to be number one as I was first in line, but my mom kindly suggested that I allow my darling younger sister to be first. Wouldn’t that be a nice big sister? But I told her no way, I was first in line, I was number one, I get to have a number one on my crown, NOT HER! So I got the number one one my crown, ha!, and she got number two. And off we went to assemble in the studio.

The show was going nicely, a few kids were selected to play games, and my sister and I watched with wide eyes. Then suddenly Bozo made an exciting announcement: one lucky member of the studio audience would be selected to be the Prince or Princess for the day. He or she would get to be Bozo’s little assistant and win all kinds of glorious prizes. Now kids, everyone take off your crown and look at the number written on it. See it? Okay now Bozo will draw a number and if it matches yours, you get to be my helper! Ready?

See where this is going yet?

Bozo drew the number two. My sister’s number. She got to be the Princess for the day, all because I wouldn’t let her cut me in line. She spent the rest of the show following Bozo around, chasing ping-pong balls that the uncoordinated children couldn’t manage to toss into the buckets, and collecting a shitload of prizes. Me? I sat in the audience pitifully wearing my Number One crown.

I was given one opportunity to shine, however, when I was selected to participate in one of the activities. Each participant had to ride a tricycle in a figure eight around two barrels full of balloons. Then you got off the trike, grabbed a balloon and popped it anyway you could. Back on the tricycle, figure eight, pop a balloon, etc. The person with the most popped balloons at the buzzer wins. No problem, I thought. But apparently I wasn’t very good at the balloon popping thing, and by about the third go around, I was seriously behind my competitors.

What did I do? Kick it into high gear and win the whole thing? Try my best and have a great time anyway? Get innovative with the balloon-popping techniques and smother my competition? Nope. What I did was intentionally fell off my tricycle and pretend to be severly injured, tears and all, so they would be forced to halt the game. On television. My sister was the Princess and I was the hack who faked an injury to avoid losing.

I think they inserted a commercial here while my mom came out to check on me. After I was diagnosed as completely unharmed, I was sent back to join the audience while my sister took her place on her Princess stool, right next to Bozo himself.

Kids, the moral of the story is, well there are many:

• Don’t be a selfish bitch because your little sister will always get better stuff than you no matter what.
• Number one isn’t always the best. Sometimes it just sucks.
• If you’re losing at something, don’t fake an injury. Because people will see right through that shit you idiot.