Brandon Cutler at FSCLi camp

The campers had just gathered around the bonfire, roasting marshmallows and singing Kumbaya—or whatever they thought was leadership training—when Brandon, in his signature black sweater (which was two sizes too tight for his growing rage), stomped over to the camp’s rustic cabins. He had one mission: to inspect the cabins and ensure that no one was “messing around” with non-leadership activities. He was just about to knock on Cabin 6’s door when he heard something that made his blood boil: laughter. And not the type of laughter that accompanies “team-building exercises,” but the kind that comes with a suspiciously fun time.

He barged in without knocking.

“What is going on in here?!” Brandon barked, eyes narrowing as he scanned the room.

There, sitting in a circle on the floor of the cabin, were a group of fraternity brothers and sorority sisters. But instead of discussing leadership principles, they were passed out in various stages of tipsy delirium, holding bottles of what Brandon immediately recognized as alcohol. Tequila. Whiskey. Something that smelled vaguely of regret.

Brandon’s face turned a shade of red so deep, even the Kool-Aid Man would’ve been embarrassed.

“WHAT is this?!” he thundered, snatching the nearest bottle—someone’s half-finished margarita—and glaring at the room.

One frat guy, clearly not sober enough to understand the gravity of the situation, tried to smile. “Hey, Cutler, we were, uh, practicing the tequila shot technique for, um, leadership...”

“LEADERSHIP?” Brandon’s voice was like a thunderclap. “Do you know what leadership is? It's about control, discipline, and NOT turning your liver into a sponge for bad decisions!”

But as he looked around the cabin, something snapped. The laughter, the carefree nature of these students—it was like a secret potion. A wild thought suddenly invaded his brain: Maybe leadership is about letting go for once…

“No more lectures,” he muttered, pacing in a circle. “No more rules. Let’s do something crazy. Let’s teach these kids a lesson they’ll never forget. Leadership, Brandon style!”

With that, he slammed the alcohol bottle down on the table and threw open the cabin door.

“EVERYONE OUTSIDE! NOW! WE’RE GOING TO LEARN LEADERSHIP THE HARD WAY!” Brandon screamed, his bald head gleaming in the campfire’s light.

The students stumbled out, blinking in confusion, as Brandon marched them to the field in front of the cabins. His bald head glinted under the moonlight like a beacon of absurdity.

“Alright, you’re all going to run the ‘Brandon Cutler Leadership Obstacle Course,’” he declared, pointing to a series of random camp equipment strewn across the field—ropes, random logs, and a very questionable-looking slip-and-slide.

“No more kumbayas or kumbayalater, whatever nonsense you kids are into,” Brandon continued. “Get ready for true leadership challenges! We’re going to build your character, make you stronger, and—most importantly—teach you how to survive.”

The first obstacle? A tire pit. But instead of just crawling through it, Brandon handed each person a small backpack filled with rocks.

“Carry your weight, people! Leadership isn't about getting carried! It’s about carrying the burdens of others!” he barked, as one girl tripped, falling face-first into the mud.

Next, he made them balance on a log. “If you fall, it’s a metaphor! Get it? Leadership is about keeping your balance when life is off-kilter!”

But Brandon didn’t stop there. Oh no. He thought, Let’s go bigger.