TUESDAY
GAMMA GAMMA GAMMA
MIDNIGHT
It was a Tuesday night at Green College, and most of the campus was fairly dead. Wednesday nights were Greek Meetings, so partying war standard fare then. Thursday nights meant the weekend was almost near, so partying was standard fare. Friday and Saturday nights were weekend nights, so partying was an obligation. Sundays were usually spent in recovery, while Mondays were reserved for denial - the weekend couldn't be over already. But Tuesday nights were usually spent doing the work that had been put off since the previous Tuesday night, meaning that Calhoun Avenue, where the Greek houses sat, were usually devoid of the standard debauchery for a single night.
There were few, of course, for which this didn't quite hold true.
"Damn it, Dunny," Mason cursed his partner as he watched the ping-pong ball bounce across the basement floor after ricocheting off of one of the plastic cups. "Seriously, I think I would have done better alone."
Donovan Groom looked hurt. Standing nearly six feet tall, Dunny was not a short guy. And yet, despite having a six-foot wingspan, he still managed to be just out of reach for almost every single shot, allowing the ping-pong ball to strike its target nearly every time. His dirty-blonde hair sculpted to perfection, it was obvious that Dunny had spent more time styling his hair than he had practicing his Pong game.
"Whatever," Dunny replied to his partner. "It's not like they didn't sink a ball on your watch."
Mason looked at his friend in disbelief. "Dunny, there were SIX cups out there. Jessa sunk ONE fucking ball on me. Every other hit or sink that they got was on you." Mason put his paddle down and headed away from the pong table to the bar. Despite the fact that he'd just downed three beers because of Dunny's poor playing, Mason wanted more.
Mason himself was a big guy, standing 6'5" and weighing close to 240 pounds, all muscle. He had close-cropped brown hair, just enough to look good, but yet not enough that it needed to be awarded any special attention. The stubble on his face echoed the same relaxed attitude that the rest of appearance demonstrated - Mason didn't make any attempt to look good. It was all natural.
"You know, you should give him break," Jessa West said to Mason from the far side of the pong table. Every word she spoke carried a slight country twang; born and raised in Tallahassee, Jessa was the quintessential Southern belle. She was a little short, but what she lacked in height she made up for in other ways, with her beautiful smile, her bright-blue eyes, her ample breasts, or her chin-length, baby blonde hair. Jessa had been born a debutante, and here at Green, she had followed through on that image by pledging Epsilon Chi - the richest, snootiest, and hands-down most attractive sorority on campus. "After all, it's probably not his fault. It's not like Dunny is bad at pong..."
"It's just that we're so damn good," Cat McIntyre finished the thought.
Originally from Big Apple, Nebraska, Catherine Candace McIntyre had come a long way to go to college. Very few people in her high school's graduating class had even made it into college, let alone one in New England, let alone one as elite as Green College. She was tall, taller than most girls, with long brown hair that was currently just up in a ponytail. With deep brown eyes, a good personality, and C-cup breasts, Cat was definitely attractive, even if she was a bit on the skinny side. She had roomed with Jessa her freshman year, when they'd been stuck in a one room triple (because of the housing crunch) in Eisenhower Hall, but had gone a different way than the blonde. Instead of rushing, Cat had dedicated herself to Green's track team, and become one the most up-and-coming hurdlers in the Northeast. Still, Cat and Jessa had stayed good friends, still hung out together, and occasionally beat TriGam brothers at Pong in their own basement.
"Pong is NOT Beirut," Mason constantly lectured his friends when they came up to visit. Unlike Cat (from Nebraska), Jessa (from Florida), or Dunny (from San Diego), Mason was only a short drive home. His Maine accent was still fairly strong, but it was always put to shame when his "boys" came out to visit. Cat had heard him lecture his friends from home dozens of times about Pong - it was not Beirut.
Maybe it was just a Green College thing. While Beirut involved tossing a ball into beer cups, Pong was more like an actual game of ping-pong, paddles and all. Strokes were limited to under-hand only, and the point of the game was to get your opponent to drink, more than anything else. Six cups, full of beer, were set up on either side of the table, in a triangular array. If your cup was hit at any point during the game, the punishment was to drink half the cup. If the ball actually landed IN the cup, it was to drink the whole thing. If the ball bounced off the table or even missed the table completely, it didn't matter - the point of the game was the beer. Cat knew the game - they all did; Pong was as much a part of Green College as was the school song.
"Switch partners with me," Mason begged the two girls. He didn't care which one accepted his offer - he just knew that there was little chance of winning with Dunny on his time. He was still behind the bar.
"No way," Jessa replied. "We know a good thing when we have it."
Mason quickly downed another beer, and immediately refilled it at the tap. They had just finished one game of Pong, with the girls clearly wiping the floor with the two TriGam brothers. In their own basement, no less.
"Besides," Cat said, lying her paddle down on the table, "I think I'm going to get home and finish that history paper that I've got."
All three jeered her at once. "Oh come on, Cat," Mason replied. "That's not due until Friday." Mason was actually in that particular history class with her, and had stressed again and again that evening that he hadn't started the research yet, and didn't plan on starting the research until Thursday. They sat together every class, Mason half-sleeping throughout the lecture and then stealing Cat's notes afterwards. They were good friends, having met during matriculation, when MacNeill and "MacIntyre" (the College had misspelled Cat's last name that morning) were seated next to each other. And Cat would have been lying if she said she hadn't thought about him in a more-than-friends-type way. But there was tension between Jessa and Mason, and Cat didn't want to get in the way of their possibly budding romance.
"Besides, it was about to get interesting," said Jessa cryptically.
Cat glanced at her friend, trying to make out what she meant. "Fine," she replied, her curiosity piqued. "I can stay around to beat the pants of these guys one more time."
All four, having just finished playing the first game of pong that night, already had a slight buzz going by midnight. This helped, ultimately, in the proposal that Jessa brought up.
"So," Jessa said, getting the attention of the other three. "What do you say we play for something a little more exciting?"
"More exciting than beer?" Dunny asked, in mock disbelief.
"Yeah, well," Jessa smiled at both her teammate and her opponents, "since we've already kicked your ass, how about we see your ass...."
Mason was confused. "What?"
"Strip pong, stupid," Jessa replied.
Immediately, the two men were hooked on the idea. After all, if they lost, they'd be naked in their own home. If they won, they'd be in the presence of two young, gorgeous, naked girls.
Cat, though, was the one that needed convincing. "I don't know," she started, "couldn't we just play for money or some sort of dare or something?"
Jessa looked at her partner skeptically, and then pulled her aside. She began whispering to her, "Come on, Cat, we've already beaten them once. You've seen how lousy Dunny is at this game - they don't stand a chance."