Chapter 7
TITLE: The Rave
FEATURING THE CHARACTERS: frat boy number 7, edgar allen poe
WRITERS: sissy, spicy, arson ;)
RATED ALL AGES
"Who is that, rap-tap-tapping on my chamber door?" muttered Edgar Allen Poe, angry at being disturbed at such an ungodly hour: 10pm.
"'sup bro!" Chad shouted excitedly as he burst in the room, his head as empty as the red solo cup he clutched in his large hand. "Me and the boys are heading to this chick's house for a sick party, you in?"
"And why would I join you, when I can stay here comfortably amongst my belongings, my familiar surroundings. I know every inch of this room, every nook, every floorboard."
"Come on, dude! You're being a downer, man.
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Come out and enjoy some cold ones with the absolute BABES downstairs."
"The only 'cold ones' I will be enjoying is my unmoving corpse finally laid to rest after being freed from such a cruel and unforgiving world."
Brad throws his solo sup at Poe's head.
"Bro. You're really gonna spend the most spectacular years of your life sulking alone without the comforting embrace of some uber babes and your broskis? Couldn't be me, dude."
Poe takes an excruciatingly long moment of silence.
"I suppose one drink with the "bros" couldn't kill me."
"That's the spirit brokowski! Let's go SMASH Chad at beer pong!"
Poe shuffles out the door behind Brad, not knowing this night would happily be his last.
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They drank for hours, and at one moment Poe found himself losing spectacularly at a game of strip poker. Chad, several Micheladas in, accidentally pushed his alcohol-soaked clothes in the firepit. Another absolute bro, Ricky, dared him to steal some old clothes that had been left out on a clothesline.
"Come on, dude! Chicks dig a guy who ain't afraid to pull off that funky hobo look!"
He was too intoxicated to protest, and in the next 20 minnutes was absolutely kicking ass at beer pong. As the sun began to rise, Poe decided to call it a night, but as he walked home was struck in the back on the head by a stray shotgunned beer can and fell into the gutter.
For years in the future, historians would puzzle over how Poe had died in another man's clothes, guessing voter fraud and abduction, but never that this absolute boss of a man was the king of the biggest rager in town. The boys never did rat him out, because they were loyal and don't snitch on homeboys who are technically on medical ban from alcholol.
Fanfic created with #FranticFanfic.