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minimum 2.0, C grade average. Understand?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œAnd don’t forget,” Adams piped up, “you’ve got to have good moral character too.”
    â€œDon’t worry. I got that for sure.”
    â€œWe’re Christians, at least mostly,” Adams continued, “so naturally, we don’t want no faggots here. If we hear from anybody that a pledge has any kind of gay sex, or anything to do with any guy who’s had gay sex, that pledge is history.”
    â€œFine with me,” I answered. “I don’t want no faggots here either.”
    Christianson was smiling. “A few years ago some pledge named Ziggie stuck his dick though a glory hole in the toilet stall in the bathroom of the Grauman’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood. Said it was a joke. Anyway, the guy in the next stall who was taking a crap was a cop. When the cop saw Ziggie’s dick slide in through the glory hole, he arrested Ziggie for morals charges. He said Ziggie kept yelling, ‘Suck it. Suck it.’ Ziggie denied everything but we kicked him out anyway.”
    â€œLast warning,” Adams said to me grimly. “We don’t want no faggots here or nobody that has anything to do with faggots.”
    I nodded mechanically.
    â€œLike I said,” Christianson added, “we’re Christians. We can forgive a lot of shit in the name of Jesus, even lying or stealing depending on the circumstances. But we got zero tolerance for any faggot shit of any kind.”
    â€œNo matter what it is,” Adams hissed.
    Christianson looked at me sharply. “You got that?”
    â€œYeah,” I mumbled.
    â€œOne last thing,” Christianson added. “Just to prevent any pledges from trying to get other pledges kicked out so they gota better chance to beat The Rule of Eleven and make the fraternity, the last night of pledging is called Pledge Elimination Night. That’s where each pledge votes for the guy he wants out. Whoever gets the most votes is gone. Like on
Survivor
.”
    â€œYou understand?” Christianson asked.
    I nodded. “Yeah.”
    Christianson got friendly again. “Good.” He put his right arm around my shoulders. “Remember, you’re now in a group. We don’t want no dissenters. Your loyalty is to the fraternity, not to any particular individual. The Sig O’s have an eighty-four year history of tradition; this chapter at CAS was founded when the college began twenty-nine years ago and we want to keep the fraternity here forever.” He paused. “You understand?”
    â€œYeah. Loyalty is my middle name.”
    â€œNow let’s go in the other room and meet your new pledge brothers. By next January at least nine of them will be history.”
    â€œBookie’s already made an odds chart on which pledges will make it,” Adams said. “He’s taking bets now.”
    Christianson pointed to me. “What’s Stafford’s odds?”
    â€œ100-1.”
    _____
    While most of the actives were congratulating the new pledges and the pledges were introducing themselves to each other, I spotted Lyman talking to some skinny creep wearing a pledge pin and headed over to them. While the beanpole was in the middle of a sentence, I hurriedly I grabbed Lyman’s right forearm and almost yanked him into the corner where we were alone.
    â€œListen you asshole,” I hissed softly. “We both know the rules to get the money: anything goes to win. But keep your mouth shut about the will to these guys.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause if they know about one of us getting the five million, these fucking blue-collar bastards will start blackmailing us for part of the money by threatening to kick us out if we don’t pay them. They’ll play both of us against the other andprobably get most of the will money from either one of us.”
    He was silent for a few seconds, scratching the side of his
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