As a pledge, there are a solid number of sounds that will make you shit your pants. Take for instance, the sound of shattered glass, heavy footsteps and drunken brothers laughing. The combination of the three might just result in the pissing of your pants. Absolute silence can have the same impact. In the frat, when it’s quiet, it’s too quiet. Something fishy is about to do down. A pledge’s saving grace is the sound of sirens. The king of all fraternity bro-haters is the police. Fuck the police. They always spoil a perfectly good haze-session.
Hazing? We’ve never heard of it. Well, apparently the protectors of the world don’t understand the concept of pledging. When you pledge, you sign up for the shit you’re about to inherit. It’s not like we’re hazing these kids for the hell of it. If they want into the brotherhood, they’ve got to earn it. And if they can’t handle it, the door is always open to leave. The do-gooders of the world (aka cops) only care about your legal rights. Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but as a pledge your legal rights get shoved up your own ass. You’re pretty much a slave. So, in effect, it’s a history lesson of the olden days. We could even classify pledgeship as physical and historical education.
Cops are constantly on the prowl, looking for shit to bust open. What did a bunch of innocent frat guys ever do to them? Nothing, absolutely nothing. But hey, as soon as a faint remnant of rowdy noise is heard, the cops sniff that shit like blow. As they slowly meander their way to the front door of the frat, or the backyard of the party-house, they couldn’t look like more of a tool in their perky blue outfits. Shout-out to Super Troopers: why can’t all cops be like Farva, Thorny and Mac?
A festive night full of pledge-class calisthenics, food-fight target practice and mandatory cleaning is planned. It’s not like we’re beating the damn pledges, we’re merely making them earn their keep. As the night rolls along, the screech of a bro-hater hits the atmosphere: sirens pulling up to the front of the house. As the brothers scramble to hide the pledges, the pledges take a deep breath of satisfaction. The hazing stops, and the brotherhood holds their breath in fear. Cops are the ultimate cock-block. They have the power to shut down our parties, throw us in jail, and worst of all: take away our pledges. If the brotherhood gets caught hazing, adios parties, frat house, pledges and life as we know it.
So here’s to you cops: we fucking hate you.
It’s not hazing. It’s brotherhood.