The following was leaked from the writers’ room at the BBC show “Planet Earth”:
The Frat Basement: hot, sweaty, grimy, constricted, and brash; just some of the words used to describe this stately environment. The epicenter of the Hopkins Social Scene, and the only place on campus to witness the full majesty of the student body: the over-dressed freshman girl and her pack of self-conscious friends, the fratstar with his three popped collars and Natty Boh collectors’ hat, the stoned senior wondering why there are people in his house, and the 149 guidos that call New Jersey home.
We are currently observing the advanced mating ceremony of the libidinous senior and the perplexed freshman girl at the bar. The male asks his bros if he is “lookin’ aight”, his bros confirm instantaneously with an added “no homo” in unison. The predatory senior slowly weaves through the crowd of freshmen in pastels and button downs making sure not to cause too much commotion. He pounces on the girl, such a magnificent sight. He sustains her attention by saying the following phrase: “air-conditioning, own room, no meal plan, Netflix, Chill?” Within five minutes, the male is leading his mate to his apartment where they will engage in coitus for no more than 4 minutes. Such a beautiful act of nature.
Next, we will be surveying the interaction between a lone freshman male and a herd of girls “dancing the night away”. He starts from across the room; tensions are high. He probes for a suitable partner, preferably out of his league and in six-inch heels. It is truly astonishing how confident a beer-bong will make these creatures. He spots his target, imagines their wedding and what their kids will look like, and commences to saunter towards her. He makes it within an arm’s length, makes eye contact, and quickly circles back to his beginning locus. This vicious cycle continues until the female starts copulating with a fraternity brother or he gets discharged because he is destroying the ratio. Nearly every time, the freshman returns to his dormitory with soiled pants and shattered hope that he will ever find love.
The Frat Party is a magical kingdom. There is nowhere else on a college campus where we can observe the primal instincts of all party goers in such a fashion. Tune in next week when we will be observing the intense feeding ground known as the FFC.