The conference room at BrightStar Consulting looked like a tornado powered by an abandoned paper mill. Papers covered the floor. Sticky notes clung to the ceiling tiles. A folding table sagged under the weight of three empty coffee carafes. Outdated posters lined the walls, including one that proudly displayed the Forty Nine Processes in a neat grid as if the last decade had never passed.
In the center of the chaos sat Priscilla Peppermint posture straight as a beauty pageant queen even in snow boots. She recited lines from the PMBOK Guide 6 with perfect memory. She had memorized the last three editions and believed the universe should reward her for it.
Across from her, Marvin Marshmallow wore earmuffs even though the room was warm. He communicated entirely through sweeping gestures like he was auditioning for a musical. He held his breath every time a PMI email notification appeared on his phone, convinced that sheer oxygen retention would help him absorb updates faster.
Both stared numbly at the practice exam results glowing on the laptop screen. It was not good.
“We failed the practice exam, Priscilla.” His arms swept broadly through the air, as if conducting a tragic opera. “Again. Both of us. Miserably. Catastrophically. The system rejected us. We are unworthy vessels of knowledge.”
Priscilla inspected the results printout with a frown. “I do not understand,” she announced in a theatrical sigh. “I memorized all the processes and ITTO’s.”
Marvin clutched his chest as if stabbed by a risk register. “The exam asked me about Agile and Hybrid, Priscilla. I was betrayed by laminated charts focused on outputs.”
Priscilla nodded gravely, flipping her pageant hair. “I was prepared for Tools and Techniques, Marvin. Not… strategic alignment.”
Their voices rose in dramatic unison. “What are we supposed to do now?”
The door opened with a quiet click.
Con Fi’Dent entered the room with a steady stride. He moved with the calm efficiency of a man who wasted no energy, the kind of person who returned grocery carts to their proper location and always knew the right decision to make.
“Rough morning,” Con observed.
Priscilla spoke first. “We just completed a practice exam. The results were shocking. My performance, though ordinarily formidable, seems to have faltered.”
Marvin flailed his arms like a snowman hit by a gust of wind. “We failed, Con. Failed. The exam is different now, more scenario-based, more strategy-driven. I am emotionally shattered.”
“That is because,” Con said evenly, “you two are studying like it is still 2017.”
Priscilla lifted her chin. “I have mastered the processes of the last decade. Forty nine of them. Precisely. Thoroughly.”
Marvin nodded with frantic approval. “And I watched six hours of video lectures. Six. Consecutively. Without blinking. My eyes feel like sandpaper.”
Con smiled patiently at them. “So you two relied on the old way.”
Priscilla scoffed. “I would not call it the old way.”
Con pointed at the giant process poster taped to the wall with packing tape. “That says PMBOK 5.”
Priscilla winced.
Marvin inhaled sharply. “It is vintage.”
Con surveyed the wreckage. “Tell me something. Did either of you happen to read the ECO update?”
Priscilla’s eyes widened for the first time. “There’s an update?”
Marvin put a hand dramatically to his forehead. “I thought it was a rumor. Like bigfoot. Or that the exam was becoming easier.”
Con leaned against the table. “It is not easier. It is different. It wants to know if you can think. If you can analyze. If you can respond to a situation rather than regurgitate a list.”
Priscilla placed a hand on her chest. “Thinking is so… interpretive.”
Marvin whispered, “Fluid.”
Con nodded. “Exactly. This exam is built to reward people who understand what a project manager does, not what a chart says. It is strategy over memorization.”
Priscilla hesitated. “Strategy like… actual decision making.”
Con smiled. “Yes. Consider this your moment. Your exam version of a triple dog dare.”
Marvin choked on air. “You can’t do that.”
Priscilla gasped softly. “A triple dog dare is binding, Marvin.”
Con stood up straighter. “Then, I triple dog dare you both to approach exam prep differently. Stop memorizing. Start analyzing. Start thinking about strategy, alignment, and judgment.”
Priscilla looked at the ceiling as though appealing to the universe. “My entire competitive advantage is memorization. You are asking me to abandon my identity.”
Marvin fluttered his hands like a moth trapped in a snow globe. “Strategic thinking is terrifying.”
“You want to pass. You want clarity. You want confidence. Then you need a different system.” Con walked over and starting tearing the outdated posters off the wall.
Priscilla frowned. “Like what?”
Con simply said, “The system I used.”
The room fell silent.
Priscilla blinked. “You passed the exam.”
Marvin leaned forward. “With the new eco.”
“And,” Con stated confidently, “on my first try. I focused on patterns, how to evaluate situations and thinking strategically.”
Priscilla swallowed. “That does sound better than memorizing.”
Marvin wrung his hands. “Do you truly believe we can do this?”
Con straightened a crooked stack of papers with a single tap. “Yes. If you stop drowning yourselves in outdated detail. Start using a faster, clearer, more strategic method. One that trains your brain, not your flashcards.”
Marvin exhaled. “A new path.”
Priscilla nodded slowly. “A smarter one.”
Con held the door open. “Come on. Let’s go clean up this tornado and get you both on track.”
Somewhere in the quiet hallway, something shifted. Their panic eased. Their minds steadied. And though neither would admit it out loud, they both wondered if they followed the process would this new approach be the one that finally worked.