Guy Catches Feelings for Slam, Dies 1 Week Later

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Nice Move

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After several days of fighting to retain some shred of his once mythological dignity and pride, young Brad Maxwell of Florida’s Beta Rho Omicron has finally succumbed to his maladies; an aggressive strain of shame and emasculation.

According to reports from pledge brothers Wyatt and Dallas, it started late last week as what could only be described as a typical Tinder encounter.

Brad and Jessica, of Iota Eta Pi, were known to be distant acquaintances, occasionally seen in the same room during social functions and infrequently exchanging a brief smattering of words when visibly intoxicated.

But things took a drastic change Friday after Brad dropped his phone while Tindering on the shitter, accidentally Super Liking Jessica in the process. Brad silently thanked the powers that be that he didn’t have to fish his phone out of the stew that was the remnants of last night’s Taco Bell banger. However, when Brad realized it was a match, he loudly recanted his prayer.

In an effort to be a gentleman, and seeing no harm in practicing his game, Brad sent the first message,

“Nice shoes. Wanna fuck?”

After some playful banter, Brad was surprised that Jessica wasn’t a total bimbo, and so decided on asking Jessica out on a date to Applebee’s for dinner — their first sober interaction.

Later that night, Brad took Jessica home to the chapter house where they practiced the tube snake boogie at obnoxious volumes. Wyatt looked up from his own sexual misadventures in the bottom bunk as Brad looked down from his top bunk. The brothers audibly and physically acknowledged the hotness of the other brothers’ slam, exchanging props and a fist bump. Way to go guys, my Trojan stock is at an all-time high.

In the morning, Jessica was observed joining the rest of the one-night stands on their mass migration from the Beta Rho Omicron house. Halfway home, Jessica realized she accidentally grabbed Brad’s phone, and so had to return to the chapter house.

When Jessica knocked on the door, Brad’s eyes lit up; a little too animated. According to Dallas, they hung around on the porch a little too long. Upon returning to Brad his phone, Jessica is reported to have said, “I put my number in there for you.” Brad smiled. Dallas saw this, and behold, a white horse.

The brothers are known to have a longstanding tradition of taking pledges out in the woods on Monday nights to exercise their constitution. On these nights out, Brad’s “I’m really disappointed in how disappointing you are” routine was crucial to the development of a good pledge class, and Brad’s large paddle and baseball swing were quintessential to pledge cohesion. However, with road flares blazing in the night and Highway to Hell blaring over a speaker set, Brad was nowhere to be found. The brothers looked around, trying to locate the centerpiece of the evening, when Wyatt checked Jessica’s Snapchat story only to see that Brad was at the Iota Eta Pi house. Another horse, fiery red, went out.

“At this point, we had to intervene for Brad’s sake,” said Dallas. Wednesday night, Dallas and Wyatt tried convincing Brad to go out for Whiskey Wednesday with the guys. Brad declined the invitation, “I have plans with Jessica tonight.”

“Come on, man, you just met this girl. We know that you like her, but you’re skipping out on everything with the brothers.”

Brad retaliated, “I do not like her. She’s just fun to hang out with.” Wyatt scoffed at the denial, and behold, a black horse.

It’s 8 in the evening on Thursday when Brad gets a text from Jessica, “Hey Brad, I’m sorry about this but I wont be able to hang out with you *eggplant emoji* tonight.” Brad is unphased; its Thursday, there’ll be plenty of guys going out for Thirsty Thursday.

Brad sends out a message on the chapter GroupMe, “Anyone wanna get sauced?” Hours pass and nobody responds. Eventually Brad is booted from the GroupMe.

Reality sets in for Brad. He fell for a slam and he ditched his brothers in the process. Brad returned to an empty house, eerily silent, his head hung in shame.

Brad looked into his behavior, and behold, a pale horse. And the name of he who sat on it was Death.

The brothers came home at 4 in the morning on Friday. Wyatt returned to his room, expecting to see Brad and Jessica in bed together. But to Wyatt’s surprise, Brad was laying alone in bed, dressed in his composite suit. Brad’s pale face was contorted into a horrific grimace of pain, cold hands wrapped around his final PBR.

Rest in peace, Brad.

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