Rampage in the Frat House

Either the front door was unlocked or a window was open, but somehow we found ourselves inside. That was when we realized that no one was home. Everyone had gone to a party, a bar or a ballgame and had left the fort completely unguarded. Whoopsie!

Soon enough we'd found the cache of spray paint. While Theresa V. was painting a huge pentagram on one wall, I was tagging another with my distinctive "The Gus" moniker. We were absolutely, invincibly drunk. The possibility that anything bad could happen to us seemed remote indeed.

Meanwhile "the boys in black" were upstairs, grabbing everything that wasn't nailed down. We're talking here about stereos, VCRs, televisions, you name it. The madness continued for far longer than it should have. Even after some of the fratboys started arriving, we pretty much ignored them. For their part, the fratboys acted as though they knew they had no power to stop us. Eventually, though, we decided it was best to leave.

At this point one of "the boys in black" started having second thoughts. Already on legal probation for participation in an earlier anti-Frat crime wave, he lapsed into paranoia. He went back to the frat house and tried to make apologies, even returning the loot he and his fellow boys in black had just stolen.

Meanwhile, Jessika and I were leisurely fleeing the scene of the crime. I didn't feel any sense of urgency at all, spraypainting graffiti on nearly every notable landmark I passed. Jessika was considerably less intoxicated than was I, and she kept pleading with me to hurry. "Hold on a moment!" I'd shout back as I put the finishing touches on an Aquarius symbol on the side of another frat house.

We made it all the way to the Corner and then across 14th Street to the apartment complex of Justin and Brita. They were having a little party in the courtyard with their neighbors, and it seemed only logical to join them. I put down my spray paint can and picked up a bottle of Rolling Rock. Kicking back on a lawn chair, I excitedly told of our rampage.

While I was in Justin and Brita's apartment taking a leak, Jessika came running in to warn me that the police were outside. They'd followed the fresh graffiti trail all the way through Fratville, the Corner and to my can of spray paint. They knew that a vandalism suspect must be somewhere nearby. Justin and Brita wouldn't allow the police into their apartment, and I hid out for awhile on the second floor. After a long time had passed and the cops quit hanging around, Jessika and I slipped back to Big Fun.