The town square had never looked so prepared and so dangerously overdesigned at the same time.
A massive countdown clock towered over the crowd, constructed from borrowed parade lights, leftover lanterns, glow sticks, misfit toys, and a few structural elements Mortimer Plumwell had personally inspected three times. Suspended above it all was the countdown ball, a shimmering sphere made of recycled ornaments, duct tape, and one extremely optimistic knot.
Mortimer stood beneath it, arms crossed, scanning the rigging. “That cable is slightly off center,” he muttered.
Merrilee Snowcroft appeared at his side, cheerful as ever. “It will hold. And if it doesn’t, I’m nearby.”
Across the square, Pomeroy McPickle adjusted his scarf and squinted at the banner stretched across the stage.
COUNTDOWN TO THE NEW PMP EXAM
“Reasonable,” he said. “I assume we measured the expected value of this celebration.”
Pumpernickel B. Read immediately popped up beside him, notebook open. “I ran a benefits analysis on joy, relief, and confidence. Intangible, but trending positive.”
Mrs. Muffinwhip nodded approvingly. “As long as no one suggests a Ferris wheel.”
Near the hot cocoa stand, Magnolia Plumridge paced in tight circles, clutching her phone. “Is the clock definitely counting down?” she asked no one in particular. “Because if it skips a number, that changes everything.”
Penelope stood nearby, calmly rearranging the seating into neat sections. “I redesigned the flow,” she said serenely. “The domains now transition cleanly. Very logical.”
Moxie McKnight leaned against the railing, laughing. “I escaped an Agile room with less chaos than this, and I loved every minute.”
At the edge of the square, Priscilla Peppermint checked her watch. Marvin Marshmallow held a clipboard upside down. Con Fi’Dent smiled confidently.
Phoebe Praline stood proudly near the stage, while Mrs. Maplethorpe observed with a knowing look.
“Leadership,” Mrs. Maplethorpe said softly, “is letting others shine without grabbing the microphone.”
Phoebe nodded solemnly, then absolutely grabbed the microphone.
At the back of the crowd, Pruina Powderpuff adjusted her earmuffs while Moose McHinkle pointed up at the sky.
Nearby, Megan Pierce stood with her trusty notebook. Martin Forester sipped cocoa like it had personally offended him. Patricia Waverly beamed at the clock.
“I just love how we decided on this design,” Patricia said.
Megan smiled politely. “Yes. We documented that decision.”
Martin muttered, “Several times.”
Not far away, Pipper bounced on her heels. “Isn’t this amazing?”
Molly stood next to her, hands clasped, calm as ever. “It’s wonderful. And contained. Very important distinction.”
The lights dimmed. Percival P.M. Ready stepped onto the stage, adjusted the microphone, and smiled broadly.
“Welcome,” he boomed, “to the countdown you absolutely earned. Tonight, we’re not just counting down to a new year. We’re counting down to the new PMP exam.”
The crowd cheered and applause rippled through the square.
The clock lit up.
TEN.
“Strategic thinking,” Percival announced. “This exam wants project managers who understand why the work exists and whether it still should.”
NINE.
“Knowledge transfer,” Percival said. “Learning doesn’t wait for the end anymore.”
EIGHT.
“Agile and hybrid everywhere.”
SEVEN.
“Leadership. Guiding people through uncertainty with trust, clarity, and purpose.”
SIX.
“Governance and the business environment. Knowing how decisions get made, who holds authority, and how compliance, policies, and external forces shape what is possible.”
FIVE.
“Scenario judgment. What should you do next?”
FOUR.
“Experience over memorization.”
THREE.
“Value delivery.”
TWO.
“Principles over process.”
ONE.
“Rising expectations. For the exam. For applications. For project managers.”
The ball trembled as confetti rained down. The misfit toys played a gentle lullaby. The clock stayed upright. The crowd roared.
Percival raised his arms. “May your risks be managed, your stakeholders aligned, your deliverables adaptable, and your judgment rock solid.”
The new PMP year has begun.