'Pre-Fab Blizzard' Wins Quincy Paper Plane Test

"First prize goes to this three-stage pre-fabricated blizzard," said Gerald Piel, publisher of Scientific American. A sinister man, later identified as a Boeing agent, bent for a close look at Ken Chang's creation, winner of the Oregami division of Quincy House's paper airplane contest.

Anguish mixed with joy last night in Quincy's dining room-turned-airstrip as planes whooshed, wafted, and Watusied through the air in the three categories of competition, distance flown, duration aloft, and acrobatics.

Mighty Heave

Rufus Lumry's mighty heave won the distance test. His missile crashed into the far wall, dead center, four feet above the fireplace. Piel, the head judge, awarded him an "appropriate prize" -- typewriter paper.

Suspense built unbearably in the duration contest after the first competitor's plane curled insolently around a light and spiralled slowly to the floor. Would his :5.2 time be beaten? It seemed impossible until Sanford Rugens stepped to the stage and with a graceful hop flung his hand high.

A miniscule bit of tissue paper hung seemingly endlessly in the air. :6.3 seconds later, it fluttered to the ground, and Rugens claimed his paper prize.

'Yes, Yes, Yes'

Cries of "Yes! Yes! YES!" greeted the first entry in the aerobatics division, as the plane mounted to the ceiling in an intricate ascent. But its glory was short-lived, for it flip-flop-flapped cumbersomely to the floor. John Pesando and Bill Tennant's tosses, however, both had flashy curves, and the two were asked to repeat their throws.

Tennant's huge perfect coil gained him undisputed victory.

Bitter Taint

The contest did not escape a bitter taint. One disgruntled competitor in Wednesday's preliminaries complained to the CRIMSON about "the disqualification of my own entry -- a large spitball -- on the grounds that it was wet. Wet, yes. It is the nature of a spitball to be wet. Illegal, no. My entry was made of paper, as the rules required...."