A column about fraternity ghosts in honor of Halloween, that glorious holiday where girls take off the costumes they wear for the other 364 days of the year and reveal that they’re all actually total sluts.
Not Even the Scariest Thing in the House
If you’re a pledge then a ghost, depending on the size of your fraternity, is anywhere between being at best the 120th and 45th scariest potential thing that could be seen in the house. Number one is the pledge trainer. Numbers two through whatever are any other active brothers. Oh wait, I forgot to throw in young alumni too. Really a ghost is one of the better things a pledge could see. After a day in which they spent seventeen hours cleaning, all while being denied caffeine and Adderall because the actives decided that the adrenaline rush from attempting a cinnamon challenge would provide sufficient energy should they need it, a ghost would be a welcome sight to a pledge by comparison. Unless that ghost is an alumnus, in which case: HAZING FROM THE DEPTHS OF HELL.
Meanwhile, even the actives wouldn’t be impressed by a floating corpse after seeing and dealing with the countless other fucked up things that are in a fraternity house. Ever see a fraternity house toilet that won’t flush but everyone is too drunk to realize it? Ever see that same bathroom’s trashcan after they do realize it? Yeah, that still haunts my nightmares. One time all the urinals in my house’s second floor bathroom got clogged, no idea how, and the idiot plumber poured something that I assume contained bleach down the urinal drains. What resulted from the plumber’s bleach and the urine’s ammonia combining was some sort of toxic pee pee mustard gas floating around in the bathroom…for DAYS. Seeing that noxious cloud of wiener gas lingering in the air of the bathroom was WAY scarier than the wandering spirit of some pussy who died of tuberculosis a hundred years ago. That ghost should do the TFM staff a favor and start haunting the pediatrician’s office below us instead and show those crying little bitches downstairs how they’re going to fare if they don’t sack up and get their shots. Although I guess seeing a ghost is still going to make those kids cry. Fuck I hate those kids.
There’s also the potential that an ex-girlfriend could show up to your house. TERRIFYING. She may even want to (*spooky voice*) TALK ABOUT STUFF! Give me a lost, tortured soul looking to take out the regrets of its sad life on you over an ex-girlfriend any day of the week. Although I guess those two are sort of the same thing actually…
Aside from having a glorious ivory skin tone that’s whiter than a glass coffee table in a hotel suite before an Arizona State fraternity’s formal, I don’t really know what it’s like to be a ghost. I assume, though, that one of the pleasures of being a spirit chained to the mortal world is that you get to scare the shit out of people…and watch them in the shower…or take dumps, if that’s your thing. I mean, there’s not much else to do when you’re dead, right? I’m guessing ghosts can’t jack off, though it’d be awesome if they could and you caught one doing it. Really turn the tables on them, you know?
But being a man of science I’m going to stick with the accepted theory that ghosts CAN’T masturbate, so it would seem that scaring people is how they get their rocks off. The problem is that if you’re a fraternity house ghost then you’re dealing with a bunch of 18 to 22-year-old guys who really don’t give a fuck about anything. If the ghost comes out at night then there’s a better than good chance most of the members will be drunk. Think about that. If a fraternity man, when drinking, is too shitfaced to care about things like contracting STDs, fire codes, or the potential legal ramifications from one of any dozen illegal things they’re doing at that given moment then why would they care about some transparent, moaning douche in the corner wearing a top hat.
It’s Living in a Fraternity House
Let’s not forget that most fraternity houses are old, and any spirit potentially haunting them probably comes from the late nineteenth, early twentieth century. Those were simpler times. Rape jokes weren’t appreciated (though ACTUAL rape was pretty easy to get away with), minorities weren’t allowed in the houses let alone the schools (and by minorities I mean the Irish), and pretty much everything we do today was frowned upon, i.e. if you did it back then you’d be ridden out of town sitting backwards on a retarded horse, your pants removed and your exposed scrotum tucked under your buttocks, while being forced to suck a rotten onion until your face was permanently grimaced, for that was the mark of a true pervert. Old timey justice! But really, you think the ghost likes seeing stuff like some guy puking on a girl’s lap in the women’s restroom because he was too blind drunk to see her there and he likes to vom on the clean toilet? Forget the ghosts scaring people in the house, the living members of the house are probably horrifying to the ghosts.