(Illustrations by Jess)

Yo Jeff,

Get off your ass and come up here man. I was thinking we could play some roller hockey and then go down to dinner. Now I know its all snowy, but I think that will improve the game. Well, it’ll be funny anyway because I’ll be on ice skates, and the rest of you will be on roller blades falling on your asses.

Oh I see! You’re gonna keep reading this letter even though I just told you to come up here! I see, you sir, are a no good, no account, lying scoundrel, that’s what you are. I mean reading the rest of an e-mail when there’s hockey to be played. Hockey!!!

You’re still reading.

All right you bastard, if that’s how its gonna be, you just watch yourself cause one of these days, WHAM, pie right in the face. And its not gonna be one of those soft pies either! No its gonna be a fruit pie, with hard ass pieces of fruit in it and stuff. Plus I’m gonna have stolen it from the cafeteria, so you know its gonna be all hard and stale.

I can’t believe this!!!! Still reading this damn letter! This means war my friend, this means war. I’m talking water pistol ambushes at 3am here! Come up here and lets play some hockey!

You bastard. Still down there going, "I’m Jeff, and I’m gonna read the WHOLE e-mail before I go play some hockey." Live a little, stop reading right now.

Now.

Stop.

No, don’t go any further!

There’s a horrible bunny with long fangs at the end of the page. As a friend I advise you to stop reading now and turn back to hockey before its too late.

Ok, fine, but don’t come running to me when that damn bunny rips your throat out!

--Jeff3--

Hockey master, lord of the ring and all it contains, master of the universe, he-man AND she-ra, that floating Orco thing and Snarf from the Thundercats.

P.S. Wanna play some Hockey?

Pushing back the dirty clothes that made up his sheets, Dave sat up, groaned, slammed a hand over his eye and fell back upon the bed. He pulled a stained pair of blue jeans from over his head and became motionless for several minutes. Eventually, he pulled back a pant leg, revealing his eyes and in a weak voice asked,"What time is it?"

"8," Jeff said, deleting his e-mail. There were sheets under there somewhere Jeff knew, but he hadn’t seen them since the first week of school. "PM," he added as Dave groaned again and folded the pant leg back over his eyes. A hand reached out from a pile of shirts and grabbed the towel off his dresser. It was followed by a leg, and Dave’s side as he slid out of bed and onto the floor, towel in tow.

Shifting to an Indian style sitting position, Dave grabbed some relatively clean clothes and headed into the shower. He passed Charales who was playing Street Fighter 2, in the pants he had slept in. His belly sagged over the belt loops, greasy hair plastered to his forehead, and the left lense of his glasses was held in position by a paperclip. Dave stopped in the middle of the room, swaying slightly as he stopped to stare, hypnotized, at Charales’s belly, and the tremors that rippled across it as he moved the game controller around. "Put some clothes on, its 8 at night!!" he yelled storming into the bathroom.

"Ha! Dave’s awake," Tommy the Tuna yelled from his room, putting down his guitar and picking up his cap gun and running into the common room. He charged the door with gun primed, pulling it back just in time to make a loud bang as Dave closed the door in his face. "I’ll get you next time!" Tuna yelled at the door. He pointed the gun at Charales,"You want some of this? Huh? Do ya? That’s what I thought!" Then he fired until the he ran out of caps. Little slips of red paper with burn marks on them littered the floor. Falling like confetti next to Charales’s bags of Chinese food take out. "Foooodss here," he said in a Chinese accent, and finished off in an American accent,"Bitch!" Charales continued his Street Fighter 2 game, ignoring Tuna’s display.

Dave came out of the shower, sat down at his computer, and started looking at porn. Picture after picture flashed on the screen, Tuna entered and sat at his own computer. "Hey Dave," he said, half turning in his chair,"isn’t it time for one of your heathen holidays?"

"I don’t even know what day it is, how do you expect me to know if it’s a holiday? Jeff! Is it a Jewish holiday today?"

"Chanukah," Jeff said.

"Which night?"

"First."

"Oh yeah! My synagogue sent me a menorah! Lets light it!" Dave searched a pile of dirty clothes on the floor and found the Menorah, but couldn’t find any candles. "Jeff! Do you know where the candles are?"

"You were using them to light your last carton of cigarettes when you quit for the 8^th time this week." Jeff turned to look at Dave,"Remember? You wanted it to be special because you were quitting for good this time."

"Are we celebrating something?" Charales paused his game and bent over opening the fridge and taking out 8 creamer packs, began to drink them down like whisky shots. "Ya know what would be cool? If you carried dead rats in your pockets, no one would ever mug you!"

"Sure Charales, whatever you say," Dave and Tuna said simultaneously.

"Dammit! We don’t have any candles! Jeff what are we gonna do? I can’t handle this, I need a smoke." Dave walked over to his Old English lamp, ripped off the cover with its Tiger holding a sign saying ‘Old English "800"’ revealing his emergency stash of cigarettes. "These unfiltered cloves are just gonna have to do till I can get something stronger."

"Why don’t you get old school on the Menorah and use oil? Or, since we don’t have any oil, don’t say it Charales!" Jeff exclaimed spinning around in his chair hand held high with a finger extended in warning. In the next room Charales’s finger and face fell as he put down his hand and closed his mouth without saying anything and went into his room to get a shirt. "Or you could use alcohol, your preferred medium anyway. Its like oil...its liquid and its flammable."

"I knew that! But, can you get drunk off oil? I didn’t think so!" Dave’s eyes started to sparkle as the idea took shape in his mind. "An alcohol Menorah! This is gonna be really cool!" Dave started searching for a bottle. "Hey look! My calculus book! I sooooo didn’t go to that class at all." The search continued for some time. Charales continued to play Street Fighter2, beating it for the 8^th time that day and Tuna started searching the Internet for ‘fish loving lesbian foursomes.’

After an hour of searching, Tuna had failed in his quest for fish loving lesbians, but had found a hot bi-sexual in a chat room. "Look at this," he announced grinning. "I found this lesbo chick and she thought I was a guy, but I finally convinced her that I was a woman, and now she wants me to come out to California to have sex with her and her husband! Isn’t that soooooo cool?"

"You know what would be really cool?" Charales asked rhetorically, pausing the game on round 8. "If you told her that you were God, and that she should have sex with you because you are a fish. That would be cool."

After a moment of silence Tuna shouted, "That wouldn’t be cool! It doesn’t even make sense! And pull up your pants, your ass crack is showing again!"

"Crack is wack!" Dave exclaimed from somewhere in a pile of dirty underwear. "God dammit! All I can find is this half liter of vodka! If I use this, I won’t have anything to drink until finals are over, and that’s not for like 8 days! Cause I’m definitely not going to get shitty at Smitties during finals!"

"We must all sacrifice for our religious beliefs," Jeff said sarcastically. Then, slamming his fist on the desk, "What the hell do you mean page fault, there’s no pages here, you’re a computer you bastard!"

"Hehe, Jeff’s yelling at his computer again, that’s sooooo cool," Dave said as he took the bottle and Menorah to the table. He filled the Shammas hole and first night hole with vodka, and lit them with a match. A small yellow flame burned from the middle of each pool of liquid. After 8 minutes, the flames went out, just as Dave began exclaiming, "My God! How much alcohol is in here?"

Jeff spun around, got up and went to look at the Menorah. "Hey!" Tuna said,"So that’s what you look like! I had forgotten what the front of your head looked like."

"You know what would be cool? If both sides of our head had hair covering them so you could never be really sure if someone was facing you or not, that would be cool." Charales said, his game on pause as he looked up at us with expectant eyes. Everyone turned to look at him, not saying anything.

"Did you know that your shirt is inside out?" Jeff finally ventured. Charales looked down as if noticing his shirt for the first time.

"Of course my shirt’s inside out, I wore the other side yesterday. Then when I took it off to go to sleep, it got turned inside out. Now I’m wearing the clean side, so its ok." Charales broke into a large grin as he explained his shirt doubling strategy.

"Charales? How thick is a t-shirt?"

"Uhm, not very thick, a couple of millimeter’s maybe? That’s cool, shirts are really thin, but they keep you really warm."

"Ok, a couple of millimeters thick, now how much sweat do you think it takes to soak through the inside to the outside?"

"Well I guess it wouldn’t be much..."

"So not only are you wearing a shirt inside out, it’s a dirty shirt because you sweated in it yesterday!"

"But I didn’t sweat yesterday! So its still a clean shirt!" Charales exclaimed defiantly.

"Then why do you smell?" Jeff said exasperated. "You shower every day, you either go into the bathroom and let the shower run without entering, or its your clothes. Lets examine the other evidence. You haven’t done laundry in the 18 weeks we’ve been up here, and your room stinks. WASH YOUR CLOTHES!" Having lost all patience, Jeff stormed out of the room and across the hall heading for Peter’s room.

Peter was one of the two dorm RAs and had perfected his beginning of the year speech for optimum effect. After introducing himself and his fellow RA, Marianne, and explaining the redundant school rules "No one under 21 can drink in the dorms. I don’t know why I have to tell you this because no one under 21 is allowed to drink anywhere in the country." he got down to business. Peter liked to avoid work in any legitimate manner. "I am gay," he would begin to the suddenly silent freshmen, "and if any of you have any questions about gay people, or dealing with being gay, my door is always open." Perfect. A masterpiece. In one truthful moment he had guaranteed that no one would come to him with any problem whatsoever. Marianne was a bouncy and happy person, and tried to recover the crowd.

"I just want you to know that I’m straight, and that if any of you want to ask questions about that, or need help dealing with being straight, my door is always open too." Blew it, now all the perverts in the dorm would be coming to her with sick and perverted, yet heterosexual, sex questions.

Approaching Peter’s door, which was of course open, another Baku Baku tournament displayed itself, in all of it’s digital glory. Baku Baku, devil game, had harmed more grades this year than alcohol. Truly, it was a devil game, as proved by the finest Internet numerologists. They noticed the patterns that are far beyond mere human eyes, proving that Sega Saturn’s Baku Baku was evil. Their proof stands as a glorious testament to Internet scholarship. Taking each letter in SEGA SATURN BAKU BAKU and converting it to the number representing it’s place in the alphabet, they got: (19)(5)(7)(1) (19)(1)(20)(23)(18)(15) (2)(1)(11)(23) (2)(1)(11)(23). Multiplying each number by its position in the word and adding the result gave them:

(19*1)+(5*2)+(7*3)+(1*4) + (19*1)+(1*2)+(20*3)+(23*4)+(18*5)+(15*6) + (2*1)+(1*2)+(11*3)+(23*4) + (2*1)+(1*2)+(11*3)+(23*4) = 666

Conclusive proof in this age of reason that the devil is the reason for Baku Baku’s addictiveness. Of course, it only adds up to 665, and U is the 21^st letter, not the 23^rd, but once religion has proclaimed something, science and reason are always against it.

The premise was simple, food and animal pieces fell from the top of the screen, and you had to touch an animal to the appropriate food. The only catch was that every time you did this, you dropped pieces on your opponent. Soon after a game was started "You bastard, I just cleaned that up!", "Monkey! Gimmie a fucking monkey!", "99! How the hell did you hit me with 99 pieces?!" could be heard coming out of Peter’s eternally open door. The most important phrase that would float out was "Rematch!" continuing long after the swearing and praying had given way to grim determination.

Tonight’s epithets were punctuated with,"I have a final in the morning","I haven’t studied for my final in the morning," and "This is my last game, I’ve got a final in the morning," which emerged as Jeff entered the doorway. Like a saloon in a western, everything stopped to see who the newcomer was. Except of course for Peter and TJ, locked with death grips on their controllers, eyes unblinking and dilated at the screen, as electronic animals chewed, fell and betrayed the players as their fingers spasmed on the controller buttons.

The cue was long tonight as everyone failed to study for finals, besides Peter and TJ, Cristen, Kat, Mike, and Captain were waiting for a turn. Captain was the original owner of the Sega, but had lost it to Peter in a double or nothing, first to 200 Baku Baku marathon, 199 to 200, now he lived in Peter’s suite room, so as never to be far from the comforting glow of Baku Baku. Cristen, the hall strumpet extraordinary, was the first to speak,"Hey Jeff, when’s that cute brother of yours coming back up here?"

"Probably never if you don’t stop chasing him."

"But he’s cute and sexy," she whined making pelvic gyrations.

"And he’s got standards, you little shixa" Jeff’s attempt to piss her off and shut her up failed, as she was in an argumentative mood.

"And what’s wrong with me that I’m not good enough for your brother?" she demanded.

"I’m sure those three guys you sexiled Karen over could come up with something."

"But they were virgins! You know how a clean man turns me on, besides it was really just pity, I mean college virgins!"

"Do you know what spinsterhood is?"

"No, I don’t Mr.OutOfDateWords"

"And you never will." Everything was quiet for about 2 seconds, then Kat doubled over with laughter, as the alcohol on her breath gave everyone a contact buzz.

"I thought you weren’t going out to drink tonight Kat," Captain said, smelling her breath for the first time.

"Yeah, well I wasn’t, but then I figured that if I went early, like at 6pm, and came back by 8, I’d still be able to study for my psych final tomorrow. But now I don’t really care about psych anymore because I need you all to see how well I play Baku Baku drunk...and Jeff called Cristen a slut." With that she rolled off the couch and onto the floor where she shook with laughter till she subsided into sleep, Jeff stepped over her, taking her seat and spot in line. Cristen glared, but wouldn’t say anything.

Peter dropped a 69 piece bomb on TJ, "You, you...bitch! Fuck you!"

TJ slid over as Captain slouched out of his chair and onto the floor. Using his forward momentum he rolled forward under the controller wires, springing up as his feet hit the floor, he executed a half pike, plopping down on the couch, the impact bouncing the controller into his lap. "Lets go" was all he said as everyone stared at him in amazement.

"Damn Captain, where’d you learn to do that?" Cristen asked, moving to stroke his leg.

"Ay! Oh! Don’t touch me!" TJ screamed, pushing back to avoid being touched by Cristen’s groaping arm.

"I’m not going for YOU, so shut up TJ," Cristen made contact with Captain’s leg. By the time he had shaken off the offending fingers, the screen was announcing Peter’s victory.

"Hey! That’s not fair, I get a rematch!" No one objected, so Peter and Captain started up again.

"Anyway, as I was saying before, cow’s produce a lot of methane, right. And if their insides get ripped up by eating a nail or barbed wire or something, the methane will start to collect in big bulges on the side of the cow." Mike was as from a farming town up north, and was always telling farm tales that no one believed, but that he claimed were true. He once stood up, put his thumbs under his suspenders, and tried to explain that "drive your tractor to school day," did not mean that they were hicks. Instead, it was merely an expression of farmer’s pride, and an excuse for spontaneous tractor pull contests.

He wasn’t wearing suspenders today, but his left shoe was badly burnt from his trip home last week. Mike and his friends were drinking around a campfire and decided to run through the fire. Mike, however, had untied his shoes to count his toes, and lost the left shoe in the fire during his run. With his burnt shoe next to the unburnt one, Mike continued to tell his story to the Baku Baku crowd. "So farmers have to poke holes in the side of the cows to release the methane. Now, this is where it gets cool, you know how methane is flammable right? Well, they light the methane on fire, so there’s this 3-4 foot flame shooting out of the side of the cow. But they have to be careful, because if they make the hole to big, the fire will get into the methane pocket, and the cow will explode."

"Did you ever see a cow explode?" Jeff asked, fingers beginning to twitch as he stared at the screen. The evil Baku Baku was drawing everyone in the room into it’s warm embrace, even Kat, unable to get off the floor was transfixed by the falling animals and food. Mike however, could not sense that his audience was lost to him, and continued his story.

"And they’ve got this special magnet gun to get the metal bits out of the cow."

"Magnetic bullets?" Cristen asked, returning her hands to her lap. She turned her head towards Mike and raised her eyebrows, the beginning of her flirtations ritual.

"Yeah, they are like cups with magnets on the bottom, and you hold a cow’s mouth open, and shoot them down it’s throat with an air riffle. Then the metal gets pulled into the cup and carried out of the cow in a couple of days." Mike beamed at Cristen, proud of farming ingenuity. Cristen beamed back, proud of having found a man for the night.

"So, Mike, did you ever shoot into a cow?" Cristen leaned forward to take Mike’s hand, and gently pulled him towards her. Mike, figuring out what was happening broke into a large grin and fell over. Having forgotten to move his feet, Cristen’s pulling capsized Mike. After falling into Cristen’s lap, he began rolling, as his legs remember they could bend. Mike rolled out of Cristen’s lap and onto TJ, who gave Mike a shove.

As Mike started to fall back and towards the door, everyone saw the danger too late. "Mike!" everyone but Cristen shouted as he fell upon the controller wires, yanking them from Peter and Captain’s hands. For a moment it looked like that would be all, but the jerk on the cables pulled the Sega Saturn off the desk. Sailing like a stone rhino, the beautiful machine of self-destruction fell onto the floor, and died.

As Mike rose, untangling himself from the cables Captain fell to his knees, in tears. "So young, so beautiful, such a waste." he mumbled to himself as Peter leaned over to console him. Cristen stepped over the senseless carnage, making her escape before anyone started assigning blame, pushing past TJ who was standing in a state of shock. Jeff decided it was time to leave, swallowing a comment about the unfairness of not getting a chance to play. He headed to the door, leaving the darkened room that had suddenly become a place of morning.

Blinded by the suddenly bright exterior, Jeff threw his left arm over his eyes, and stumbled down the corridor, into a deadly trap. The suite war between the misogynists and the feminists was heating up again. Using their right to post things on the wall, the feminists had created a display about great women in history, titled: "Recognizing Outstanding Women." All had been quiet on the male front while the display was going up, but now there was a picture of Pamela Anderson stapled between Zoe, an 11^th century Byzantium Empress, and Rosa Parks, the woman who launched the civil rights movement.

Four very angry looking women were standing near the board, waiting to ambush the suspects. Because of the nature of the crime, suspects was interpreted as any non-gay male, homosexuals were felt to be above sexist vandalism.

Lowering his arm, Jeff quickly sized up the situation and made the only possible decision, he knocked on the RA’s door. Smiling into 4 pairs of hostile female eyes, Jeff pushed his way into Marianne’s suite. "Hi Marianne, you may want to go out there and mediate, I think Ben and his misogynist friends are about 3 minutes away from being strung up by their cocks."

"What happened?"

"Looks like they put up Pamela Anderson as an example of outstanding womanhood. Of course, if anyone had seen them do it, you could fix the problem easy, but they aren’t that dumb."

"I’d better go out there, I’m sure I can find a good solution." Marianne’s bouncy personality had taken many blows since the beginning of the year. She was no longer very bouncy, and was often moody. Her offer to discuss being heterosexual had long since been resigned, after someone had explained that "Hot Lunch" was when you covered someone’s mouth with saran wrap and take a shit. While Marianne refused to say who had enlightened her to this new sex act, Ben was sporting a black eye for almost two weeks, much to the feminists delight.

Marianne left to mediate the latest border skirmish, leaving her homework behind with a huff. Jeff, noticing that the Jen and Jess’s door was slightly ajar, pushed out his right shoulder and tilting his torso, rammed the door open and stopped in the doorway.

Kar-rack! The tail of the whip sailed through the air, snapping back barely an inch from Jeff’s face. "Oh shit!" Jen yelled catching the whip on the rebound, "You should knock before you enter. People may be swinging whips around!"

"Har! We pirates fear no whips!" Jeff ducked.

"Ahoy! Be ye searching for booty?" Jess fell easily back into last night’s pattern. The board game, Settlers of Catan, was addictive especially with the new Seafarers of Catan add on. All night it had been "Ahoy!" and "Har!" and "Have ye any booty?" Ships and cities sprang across the board all night as the players became more tired and vulgar.

Jess remembered being half asleep when Jeff had proclaimed "I’ve come for your booty for I be a butt pirate! Arrr!"

She sprang up she exclaimed "Ahoy! There be no booty here."

"Then why be your lights off then? Be there butt pirating going on then?"

"Jess was after me booty and I was forced to use the whip on her." Jen countered sarcastically sitting up and tucking her quilt under her arms in one smooth motion. "She’s been after me all night."

"Ahoy! That is why she was aiming at the door instead of at me." Jess explained as Jeff moved entirely into the doorway, stopping when he saw that Jen was not wearing a top.

"Arrr, shiver me timbers but I think Jen is naked. Be ye buffing tonight?"

"What? I have a tank top on! See the straps?" Not like 2 years ago when she had been caught in the buff. Despite living on the first floor she had reasoned that no one would walk by my window at 3am. Changing with the drapes open, she learned that she was wrong. Her suitemate’s boyfriend chose that moment to come over for a visit, catching her at the window. Then of course she was accused of breaking them up because he was too embarrassed to come over anymore.

"Not from where I’m standing lassy. From here it looks like there be butt pirating afoot." Jeff’s pirate accent snapped her attention back to the present, as if the whip was cracking again.

"Har! Yes, two women engaged in butt pirating to be sure. Why are you here and how did you get in anyway?"

"Ahoy! That sassy lass of the seven salty seas Marianne let in to plunder her booty. Then I felt I should come over and plunder my girlfriend’s booty. Har! Or maybe I just stopped by to say hi. One of those scenarios."

"No one is plundering my booty and that is final. I am a good chaste girl. Ahoy!"

"Sounds like the perfect plundering ground, Arrr!"

"If anyone gets to be plundering the booty, it be me her roommate."

"No one is plundering my booty!"

"Well if ye feel strongly about it then, Har!" Jeff knew when Jess had had enough. When they had a water gun fight in the dorm, and Jess had been wearing a white t-shirt, ahoy! Afterwards Isaac, that piece of trash, had told Jess that it wasn’t ladylike to participate in a water fight, especially because her white t-shirt was now soaked and see through. Isaac’s black eye lasted 2 weeks.

"Har! If ye try to loot this booty, you’ll need a patch for your eye. Then you’ll really be a pirate!"

"Ahoy! I was just thinking of that piece of trash Isaac too! Now there is someone who needs a run in with some ass pirates in search of booty."

Suddenly the ship was invaded by the dread pirate Kangor, the Hell Beast. Always lurking in these waters, this hellish alter ego of the maidenly Marianne would even stop Robin Hood from looting her booty, ahoy!

"I’m trying to study out here! You’ve got to be quieter! Stop being so loud and laughing so much!" Sword tongue slashing through the night she turned her back on the charred remains of her suitemates as she lumbered off, in search of more enemies bent on stopping her from studying.

The top hinge of the door had broken off during Kangor’s attack. Jeff moved to reposition the door, but only succeed in breaking the bottom hinge. "Her boyfriend was supposed to call her tonight wasn’t he?" Jeff asked as he tried to crawl out from under the door, which had become wedged between the closet and Jen’s bed.

A slamming door made them all pause, Jeff’s head sticking out over the edge of the door like the decapitated head of a Ken doll found propping open the feminists suite door one afternoon. Kangor had returned, but was it Hell Beast or bouncy RA they faced the trio wondered, waiting for telltale action. "Jeff! I told you to be quiet so you broke the door! What kind of shit is that? I’m the RA you know, I can have you thrown out of the hall! You’re gonna have to pay for that door to be replaced! Well, don’t just stare at me with bulging eyes, say something!"

"Standing on door, can’t...breathe." Jeff choked out, looking to Jess and Jen for help.

"What? What was that you said!" Kangor stared down at Jeff, plotting his doom like the Hell Beast she was.

"Your weight, crushing me..."

"DID YOU JUST CALL ME FAT? You’re a dead man!" Bending over she used her supernatural strength to snap the door in half, freeing Jeff. "YOU! LEAVE! NOW!" With one hand she pulled Jeff off the floor, and heaved him out of the room. Bouncing three times, Jeff came to a rest on the other side of the hall, looking like a traffic victim. Then he was hit in the head with a hockey puck.

"GOAL!!" Jeff3 shouted from the other side of the corridor. A game of dorm hockey was afoot, with Jeff3 and Dave squaring off against TJ and Tuna, for the Almighty Ruler Of The Universe Championship Belt. Jeff stood up, brushed off the remains of the outstanding woman, Pamela Anderson photo, picked up the puck, and walked down the corridor to the hockey game. "Bring it over here, me and Tuna have a face-off." Jeff3 said, going to the center of the open area.

Jeff brought over the puck and flipped it towards the center. Jeff3 stood up and said, "What the hell was that? This is supposed to be a face off, not a toss in."

"I’ve got a headache, I think I may have been hit in the head by something. Oh wait I was." Jeff sat down on the couch holding the side of his head, searching for something to complain about. "What’s the score anyway?"

"It’s 4/4, but that’s gonna change right NOW!" Tuna said hitting a high flying slap shot that sailed over Jeff3's head and into the corridor, hitting the smoke detector, setting it off. BWWWAAA, screeched from the fire alarm, as Tuna and TJ put up their sticks and started shouting "Goal! Goal!"

"Uhm." BWWWAAA

"What?" BWWWAAA.

"Well you actually" BWWWAAA "set off the fire alarm" BWWWAAA "we’ve got to leave the building."

BWWWAAA "I claim the right to turn Tuna in for the money," Jeff3 announced, heading towards the exit.

"No one’s getting any money for turning me in!" BWWWAAA. "I’ll just tell them I did it. What can they do, I didn’t pull the fire alarm, I hit the smoke detector." BWWWAAA.

"Whatever man, we’ve still got to leave." BWWWAAA. People started appearing in the hallway, heading towards the exit and looking annoyed.

"In case anyone wants to form a lynch mob," BWWWAAA "This is all Tuna’s fault." Jeff3 shouted as everyone exited the building. Marianne was outside in Kangor mode, ordering people to stand clear of the building.

Tom went up to her and tried to explain. "This is all my fault."

"You pulled the fire alarm? Why would you do something that stupid? Why are you making my life difficult? What did I ever do to you Tom, what?"

"I hit the smoke detector with a hockey puck, I didn’t pull the fire alarm."

"Oh. Well. Don’t worry about it then...a hockey puck? What did I tell you about dorm hockey? Didn’t I tell you not to do that anymore? Didn’t I say you’d break something? But, does anyone listen to me? No! I’m just the RA!" Peter attempted to calm her down, but Kangor was just too upset about people not listening to her, to listen to reason. Tuna took the opportunity to disappear into the crowd of people he had exiled from the dorm.

"Hey Tuna! You know, its fucking cold out here man! I just want to say thanks!"

"Fuck off Ben, you would have been wearing more clothes if you weren’t in your room jacking off. It’s not my fault that you hate women."

"I wasn’t jacking off!"

"Sure." Tuna reached the safety of his suitemates, Jeff and Dave who were standing with a semi-sober Kat. "Well, it looks like I’m not gonna get in trouble," he announced.

"They should thank you, you found out that the smoke detectors aren’t working properly," Kat said, unable to stop laughing.

"Hey! They’re letting us back in," Jeff announced, turning only to be blinded by seeing 4 inches of Charales’s ass crack walk in front of him. "Save yourself! I’m done for!"

Dave leaned over and whispered to Kat, "Hey, lets go downstairs."

"Ok, but if that pervert Damion comes in again, I’m gonna kill him!"

Slowly, everyone went back into the dorm. Mike went off to Cristen’s room, while Dave and Kat went to the basement lounge, and entered the women’s bathroom. Jeff went back to his room and went to sleep, another evening well spent among friends.