Monday, February 1, 2010

UCA Initiation Successful, Yet Messy

The UCA BYX chapter, which started last March, was finally initiated yesterday by the nationals organization. Since we're only two hours away, a few of my brothers and I went down to Conway, as a part of fellowship, yes, but mostly to escape the eight inches of snow in Fayetteville. I had cabin fever after two days in one house. I can only lose to my dad in spades so many times.

(As it turns out, I can only lose to him every time. He's unbeatable. He counts cards, which is illegal in Vegas, when playing a completely different game.)

Because of the weather and road conditions, only six of us were able to go. Jordan, who served as an executive officer, and I were able to take part in leading the ceremony with the nationals. Given the mysterious nature of the ceremony, I'm making this multiple choice. We either A) lit candles, B) tortured and humiliated a white tailed deer, or C) removed all the hair off of the UCA founding fathers. Hint: hot wax was involved.

Afterwards, I put aloe vera on my burns and we all went to Dairy Queen. There were maybe three high schoolers working; they were planning to close early. I laughed in their face and said, "Here's a tip," and gave them a one dollar bill, but on the dollar I wrote, "Look out behind you!" then I threw a brick through the drive through window. Dang it - I just revealed the Inititiation ceremony.

There were 15 UCA bucs initiated as founding fathers. As soon as UCA recognizes them, they'll give out bids to maybe 12 freshmen and sophomores. Those are impressive numbers. But what's more impressive is that at Dairy Queen we ate an entire 10" ice cream cake. Ate it. 10". Dairy Queen. The UCA bucs all order blizzards or blasts or frostbites, whatever the mixes are called. They're all the same. But my brothers and I banded together and bought the cake. The workers didn't tell us the cake came completely frozen. I guess that's what I get for pouring hot wax on a deer. Dang it!

After a few broken plastic spoons, we switched to pocket knives and a stainless steel spatula, but it quickly became apparent that this was a bad idea. In fact, this idea made other bad ideas look like good ideas. Seeing me claw at the cake, Nationals told me they didn't mind the hairless chests and cries of pain. We had Dairy Queen microwave the cake for us, but our hopes were low, until T.J. Beringer, the new UCA Pledge Captain, said something to me. I don't exactly remember what it was, but it was along the lines of, "I bet you regret that," or, "Cass, you have shamed your tribe and I will forever trod in shoes made from the skin of your bloated carcass." Something like that.

It was on.

By the time everyone else had finished their ice cream, we had managed to eat the edges and the candy topping, which was a chocolate heart that said, I Love You. Talk about brotherhood. We used the spatula to cut the cake, but we ate it with our hands. I had chocolate ice cream all over my suit jacket. But I persevered. Eventually, I stood on a table and proclaimed to all present that I was not leaving until the cake was gone. They could lock me in, if they wanted, but did they really want that? I'd only just eat more cake, and I could find more bricks. The workers eventually saw it my way.

The best demonstration of brotherhood I've seen: the UCA bucs, one by one, came to the cake and offered out their hands, and each took a portion and ate. It was like a chocolate communion. In fact, this leads me to believe that the precipitating incident of the Last Supper was Jesus standing on the table and yelling, "I am not leaving this upper room until all this bread and wine is gone! Do this in remembrance of me!"

When we were finished, the bathrooms were locked. I washed my hands in the soda fountain.

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