Inside The Mind Of A Pledge Entering The Fraternity House For The First Time Since Rush

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Nice Move

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Standing Outside The House

There it is. That beautiful frat castle I’ll be spending the next four to five years raging in, getting laid in, and getting hazed in — which will suck ass to be sure, but which I will make up for by hazing TEN TIMES AS HARD and telling the future pledges that they’re pussies because I had it WAY FUCKING HARDER. I’ll be making life long friendships inside of there. Joining a brotherhood inside of there. It’s Goddamn glorious. My dick is standing up straighter than the massive columns out front just thinking about it. Fuck. Yes. Life is about to get exponentially more awesome.

Immediately Upon Entering

Dear God what is that smell!?! It’s like some horrible, humidified combination of old booze, drunken sex, and ass. If this were a cologne scent it’d be called Dionysian Farts. I mean, I know fraternity houses aren’t always the cleanest but this is a stench reserved for an alley behind a third world dive bar. I guess they’ve been partying pretty hard in here, but why hasn’t anyone cleaned anything???

2 Seconds Later

Jesus Christ, I just realized I’m the one who has to clean whatever foul demon fuck cheese is the source of this horror.

*Takes a fearful gulp*

*Gags*

2 Minutes Later

This place looks like a hurricane hit Mardi Gras and everyone tried to take cover by ripping open the walls and hiding inside of them.

5 Minutes Later

Just walked into the dining room. The trashcans are overflowing with half-eaten food that’s at least a day old. Some huge fat guy with a beard, holding a Styrofoam cup from next to the soda fountain that was filled entirely with whiskey so cheap I could smell it from ten feet away, looked at me and asked, “You a pledge?” He must have been pretty drunk because after I said yes he asked me three more times while he squinted at me. I think he was seeing double. After I said yes for the third time he stared at me some more and then kicked over one of the full trashcans in my direction. Garbage exploded everywhere. There’s ketchup all over my shorts now. The bearded guy asked if I was having my period. Well played. Then he said, “Suck that dick, you fucking shaft tickler.” I’m not really sure what it meant. The garbage was the dick?

Before he left he said his name was “The Fister,” and made a hand gesture where he formed one hand into a small circle, and then closed his other into a fist and pretty violently punched his way through the circled hand with the fist, until it was all the way through, up to the elbow. He stared at me the whole time he did it.

I didn’t meet him during rush…

15 Minutes Later

Had to pee so I found the bathroom. It smelled like a mass grave in the middle of a swamp. It was…just…I don’t even know what to say. Guess I’m gonna have to clean those too? I think I’m going to cry.

20 Minutes Later

I’m gonna go down to the basement. That’s my happy place. During rush they threw the sickest party down there. It was a paint party. Dimes were running around barely dressed and rubbing paint on each other, and me. I love the basement. It’s my favorite place in the house. I met this awesome girl named Nicole at the party too. I got her number. Gonna call her for sure once I get settled in.

21 Minutes Later

I think I just walked into the mouth of hell. All the sexy paint, all the happiness, is now gone. There was some paint, still. On the wall someone wrote the words “All Pledges Are Grundles To Be Fist Fucked” and signed it with a drawing of a fist. It was like reading the sign at the entrance to hell in Dante’s Inferno, if Dante was a raging alcoholic with the vocabulary of a sex-addicted sailor.

24 Minutes Later

Went upstairs to the rooms to see if any of the other brothers were around. Saw that really cool sophomore named Mike I met during rush walking out of his room. Said hi. He told me to “shut your dick cave you grundle fuck” and then he tossed me a used condom and said, “Throw this away for me. It’s super full and I don’t feel like carrying it.” Just realized they call all the pledges “grundles.” That should be a fun six-month nickname…

Behind Mike I could see Nicole lying on his bed. She was sweaty and breathing heavily. Probably not gonna call her now I guess. Also, I didn’t want to touch the used condom so I took my hat off and caught it in that. It was my favorite hat. I wear it golfing all the time. My grandpa gave it to me as a Christmas present one year because we used to golf together. He’s dead now so it’s something I have to remember him by. He was cremated. Looks like I’m gonna have to burn the hat too. At least Grandpa didn’t die covered in spunk. The trucker wearing the leather hat and leather vest with no shirt combo who found him dead said my grandpa slipped and fell in a truck stop restroom and broke his neck when his head rammed into the back of one of the toilets really hard.

Just putting together the pieces on how my Grandpa might have actually died. I hate this day.

28 Minutes Later

Someone picked up the dining room trashcan The Fister knocked over. Actually, it’s totally gone. Weird, but whatever. At least I don’t have to clean it now.

29 Minutes Later

The Fister just jumped out of a utility closet with the full trashcan from the dining room and dumped it on me. Apparently he picked his mess up so he could use it again. Then he shouted “YOU FILTHY FUCKING GRUNDLE” and head-butted a hole in the wall. He tried to head-butt another hole but hit a stud and knocked himself unconscious for three minutes. When he woke up he seemed like he forgot who I was. He’s a pretty cool guy post-concussion.

33 Minutes Later

I put The Fister to bed to let him sleep off the whiskey and concussion – one of the two of which I assume will be the ultimate cause of his early death. I left the house and headed back to my dorm. Pretty terrified of this whole pledgeship thing now. Not sure if I made the right choice.

40 Minutes Later

Got back to my dorm and walked past a group of six GDI dudes sharing a fifth of vodka with a freshman girl who was a waning five at best. I made the right choice.

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