| Apologies for the lateness of this entry. However, it was necessary that I sit on this for a while, in the event of legal repercussions for events enclosed within. Without further ado, I present The Night of Much Looting. It began as a normal Sunday night. All was calm in the land of Stephensonia, as we gathered for a hall meeting. Things went well, and we were introduced to our new hall member, Marcos, a transfer from G.P., who was replacing our incompetent ex-lyleman Chase who lived in the hall for a month and never cleaned our third floor bathroom. This upset me. But we welcomed Marcos with open (but not gay) arms. And, as a sign of good will, we were going to help him move all of his stuff over from GP to Stephenson at 9. And thus, the hour of 9 arrived. The Lylemen, approximately 30 of us, formed up in the living room. However, Marcos was nowhere to be seen. We waited, and then a plan was put forth. (An important piece of background is required here. On the day the hall opened our newmen were greeted with a gigantic banner in the living room. It was black, with a skull and crossbones and the word "Lyle" painted on it in white. In short, it struck terror into the hearts of our foes. And then, two weeks ago, it disappeared one night. Stories were gathered, and the best we could tell was that it had something to do with G.P., Pearson, and/or Battenfeld.) We didn't have Marcos, but we DID have an excuse to go storm GP and wander throughout their hall. And storm we did. Picture a vast wave comprised of 30-some college guys, all restless, all angry, and all with sticky fingers. We burst through the door, and just spread over the place before they had a clue what was going on. I saw one guy snagging the curly cord from a phone. Another lyleman headed for the kitchen, carrying an empty duffle bag. Yet another scribed "Eat a Dick" on a dry erase board, while a handful more began to carry off a leather armchair from the living room. It was chaotic, and it was glorious. It didn't take long till their hall director began to curtail our actions, and we were ushered up to Marcos' room. Where his roommates insisted that he didn't live there any more, and he'd already moved out. Even after he showed up to claim his stuff. So the guys started hauling his things out, and I busy myself prying the message board off of another room's door. And I got it off, too, just in time to get caught by their SHD. Who was rather good natured about it, and just had me set it down. So I did. Until he turned around. At which point I snagged it again. At which point he turned around and caught me, and looked more pissed this time, so I set it back down and wandered off. I helped pass a few things down the hall, fire brigade style, and then the SHD left. So, I didn't know when to quit, and had the guys start passing the board down. In my defense, I really needed the thing. I'm sure you all saw it coming, yep, the SHD walked in right as it got to me. Snagged it, stuck it in the room, and I split. So we all get back to the hall, everything is moved in. And yet, no banner. And so we come to a consensus: Let's go search Pearson. We walk over, stride through the door, and disperse throughout the entire hall. People are opening cabinets, searching cupboards, flipping sofas, just completely tearing the place apart. One guy was sitting in the living room reading, and after a few stunned minutes asked, "Uh, you guys looking for something?" To which, someone answered "No." and continued looking under a table. We did a fairly thorough search, and then begin the interrogation. The story enfolds thusly: "Yeah, the flag was over here, but we didn't steal it. Either GP or Battenfeld brought it here. But we don't have it anymore. We threw it in the fountain." We knew it was not in the fountain, we'd been there plenty lately since there had been a streak of birthdays and we had to honor them with congratulatory dunkings. Which left only the big B. Which we immediately rushed. Once more the ransacking begins, and we discovered that Battenfeld is laid out like a friggin labyrinth. In fact, I'm sure there are still some Lyleman wandering about there searching for an exit, if they haven't already died of starvation, the poor souls. Anyways, we're searching the place, but still find no evidence. We're pretty disappointed, but good sports about it, so we leave. Which is when the dumbest thing happened. Some idiot Battenfelder actual threatened to "drop kick you all out of here if you don't leave." He threatened three dozen upset Lylemen. Not smart. More threats started flying, tempers started flaring, the intelligent among us left before anything could happen. I don't think and punches were thrown, but I'm really surprised the place is still standing. So the night drew to an end. We got back to the hall, and stories began to get passed around. It was about that time that the first stream of people from the other halls started showing up. APPARENTLY, a lot of things had gone MISSING, if you can imagine. I saw that as the proper time to split, and retreated to my room to giggle and dine on Barq's and fig newtons. |