minimum 2.0, C grade average. Understand?â
âYeah.â
âAnd donât forget,â Adams piped up, âyouâve got to have good moral character too.â
âDonât worry. I got that for sure.â
âWeâre Christians, at least mostly,â Adams continued, âso naturally, we donât 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 whoâs had gay sex, that pledge is history.â
âFine with me,â I answered. âI donât want no faggots here either.â
Christianson was smiling. âA few years ago some pledge named Ziggie stuck his dick though a glory hole in the toilet stall in the bathroom of the Graumanâs 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 Ziggieâs dick slide in through the glory hole, he arrested Ziggie for morals charges. He said Ziggie kept yelling, âSuck it. Suck it.â Ziggie denied everything but we kicked him out anyway.â
âLast warning,â Adams said to me grimly. âWe donât want no faggots here or nobody that has anything to do with faggots.â
I nodded mechanically.
âLike I said,â Christianson added, âweâre 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
âNo matter what it is,â Adams hissed.
Christianson looked at me sharply. âYou got that?â
âYeah,â I mumbled.
âOne last thing,â Christianson added. âJust 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. Thatâs where each pledge votes for the guy he wants out. Whoever gets the most votes is gone. Like on
Survivor
.â
âYou understand?â Christianson asked.
I nodded. âYeah.â
Christianson got friendly again. âGood.â He put his right arm around my shoulders. âRemember, youâre now in a group. We donât want no dissenters. Your loyalty is to the fraternity, not to any particular individual. The Sig Oâs 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.â He paused. âYou understand?â
âYeah. Loyalty is my middle name.â
âNow letâs go in the other room and meet your new pledge brothers. By next January at least nine of them will be history.â
âBookieâs already made an odds chart on which pledges will make it,â Adams said. âHeâs taking bets now.â
Christianson pointed to me. âWhatâs Staffordâs odds?â
â100-1.â
_____
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 Lymanâs right forearm and almost yanked him into the corner where we were alone.
âListen you asshole,â I hissed softly. âWe both know the rules to get the money: anything goes to win. But keep your mouth shut about the will to these guys.â
âWhy?â
âBecause 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 donât pay them. Theyâll play both of us against the other andprobably get most of the will money from either one of us.â
He was silent for a few seconds, scratching the side of his
M. R. James, Darryl Jones