I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell (3 page)

Before I can even intervene (I was a good ten yards away as the first punch was thrown), ten more red necks pour out the door. Brownhole and I successfully pull EI Bingeroso and Thomas away from the increasingly large group of rednecks, and manage to settle things down for a second.

Tucker "OK, we are leaving. Sorry about any problems, but we're going."

The group of now twenty to thirty red necks crowded around the door are staring and yelling at Brownhole, Credit, GoldenBoy and I as we try to pull Thomas and EI Bingeroso away from the door.

A few seconds later Hate pushed his way through the crowd of rednecks, emerging on the other side just as one of the rednecks yelled something derogatory at EI Bingeroso. Hate, being both loyal and drunk, immediately tackled this redneck, pinning him up against the very truck that EI Bingeroso was kicking three minutes prior.

The events of the next minute are somewhat unclear, but I do remember these images:

• Hate with his head buried in someone's stomach, waling at his ribs, as other red necks descended upon him.
  
• GoldenBoy and a redneck trying desperately to strangle the life out of each other.
  
• EI Bingeroso and Thomas, back to back, swinging at anything that came close.
  
• Credit standing in the street debating.
  
• Me and Brownhole trying to pull Hate off of his redneck punching bag. Then, the defining words of the night rang from out of Brownhole's mouth: "DUDE, HE'S GOT A FUCKING GUN! GUN! GUN! GUN! A FUCKING GUN!"
  

The word "gun" can do strange things to a fight. In this case, it ended it immediately. At those few words, EI Bingeroso and Thomas were immediately out in the street with Credit, and GoldenBoy and Hate

began retreating, hesitantly, with me and Brownhole, into the street
.
Brownhole and I succeed in pulling everyone down the street, toward
s
the first safe place we can find, a bar called the Oak Room. We wal
k
up a flight of stairs, and there are 3 girls standing at the top of th
e
landing. Hate is the first one to make it to them
.

Girl "Hey guys, welcome to the Pi Phi Fall Philanthropy Event. It's tw
o
dollars to get in. Which fraternity are you guys from?
"

Hate "Two dollars? I just paid two dollars and got into a fight, what th
e
hell is this? Tucker? Take care of this, I'm not paying shit. Where's th
e
damn beer?
"

He pushes his way past the girls towards the bar area
.
Girl "Hey! You can't do that! It's two dollars to get in. Um, excuse me!
"

I really don't need this right now. I try to walk past the Pi Phi police, bu
t
she grabs me, "Excuse me, you have to pay two dollars, and two mor
e
for your rude friend.
"

That was my limit
.

Tucker "What are you, fucking kidding me? Do you even work here?
"

Girl "Uh, no. But it's a sorority philanthropy event; it's for charity.
"

Tucker "If you don't work here, then get the fuck out of my way. I'll drin
k
to charity.
"

Brownhole ends up paying for the group to get in, and throws in a
n
extra twenty to make the girls feel better. He'll do a thing to get girl
s
to like him. We all get a beer, myself included. EI Bingeroso buys th
e
round, and then huddles everyone together. His speech is not entirel
y
lucid
.

EI Bing "Alright guys, seriously ... guns. OK? We cannot go anywher
e
without each other. We could die. For real. From the guns. We canno
t
leave this bar, except as a group. We have to stay together. We coul
d
get shot. Understood? Everyone together.
"

We agree. At the time, the group, mired in a fog of drunkenness
,
misses the irony of this statement. I smirk and head to the bathroom
.

Alone. On my way back, I smile at a beautiful girl, and she gives me
a
cute little acknowledgment smile back. I wrote the book on pickup lines
,
so I head over to her and drop one of my favorite: "Did you invite al
l
these people? I thought it was just going to be the two of us?
"

She laughed, and I spent the next twenty minutes staring into he
r
deep green eyes, pretending I was interested in the stupid things sh
e
was saying. A beautiful house, it's a shame no one was home
.
Eventually remembering my shepherding duties, I looked around th
e
bar to make sure everyone was OK. Much to my dismay, NONE O
F
MY FRIENDS WERE THERE
.

I sprint off from the girl, she still in mid-sentence, and find Brownhol
e
standing near the door, talking to the girl who wanted us to pay to get in
.
Tucker "Dude, where is everyone?
"

Brownhole "Oh, the red necks came up and got them, but I think it'
s
best for us to stay up here." Tucker "WHAT!!! ARE YOU A FUCKIN
G
RETARD!! WE'RE THE ONLY SOBER ONES HERE!!!
"

I fly down the stairs, and stumble out to what can only be described a
s
something straight out of a bad '90s remake of West Side Story
.
On the near side of the courtyard are my friends, EI Bingeroso
,
Thomas, GoldenBoy, Hate and Credit, standing up on benches, pointing
,
gesticulating and yelling, in a fashion similar to agitated Africa
n
savanna baboons
.

On the far side of the courtyard are about twenty rednecks, engage
d
in the same type of ritual male-dominance displays. In between thi
s
are 5 large bouncers, trying to maintain calm and keep the warrin
g
factions apart. Hate chooses this point to try and charge across th
e
courtyard towards the rednecks. Thankfully for him, one of the bouncer
s
intercepts him and places him in a headlock. Hate does not like this a
t
all, and begins swinging at the bouncer's ribs. Presumably, he woul
d
have swung at his face, but Hate is 5'6", and the bouncer's face wa
s
about a foot above Hate's reach. I help the bouncer move Hate bac
k
over to our side and out of the demilitarized zone in the middle of th
e
courtyard
.

The bouncer takes this as a sign that I'm the sober one in th
e
group, and says something to me I heard many times in my law schoo
l
career: Bouncer "You need to take your friends and get out of here.
"
Tucker" Look man, our cars are out in that parking lot. You are going t
o

Have to walk us out there. Those fucking guys have guns, and they ar
e
very angry with us." The bouncer sees the logic in this, and explains th
e
situation to the other bouncers. They encircle us, and begin walking u
s
towards our car. The rednecks are none too happy about this, but th
e
lead bouncer has somehow managed to convince them to not launch
a
full-scale assault on us. I can only assume he threatened violence an
d
inevitable police involvement
.

We finally make it to Credit's car, when I notice that Brownhole i
s
nowhere to be found. Fucking great. I should leave that disloyal cowar
d
cocksucker back in the Oak Room. Scanning the parking lot, I se
e
him.He is walking next to the very truck that EI Bingeroso had bee
n
kicking earlier, talking to the older redneck driving it
.

Thomas sees this, and yells out, "Oh shit, guys, Brownhole is gonn
a
get fucked up." EI Bing "What? Where? Brownhole! WE HAVE TO BAC
K
HIM UP!," and he tears off running towards Brownhole and the truck
.
The subsequent conversation I did not hear, but was reported prett
y
much the same from both Brownhole and EI Bingeroso. Brownhol
e
had apparently made headway into calming the old redneck drivin
g
the truck. This guy not only owned the truck in question, but also th
e
very bar that everything had started in. He was on the way to convincin
g
the old redneck to call off his henchmen, when all of the sudden E
I
Bingeroso runs up
.

Old redneck "Son, your friends are lucky you're here to get them out o
f
this. I kill people like them.
"

Brownhole "Yes sir, I'm glad we can resolve this peacefully.
"
EI Bing [As he runs up] "Brownhole, what the fuck? Let's get the fuc
k
out of here. He's got a gun!
"

Old Redneck "A gun? Boy, I got two guns." At which point the ol
d
redneck pulled a 9mm pistol out from a hidden compartment in the truck
,
and held it up along with his sawed-off shotgun from before
.

EI Bing "OH SHIT!
"

EI Bingeroso tried to back up so fast he fell over. Brownhole "E
I
Bingeroso, go away, go back to the car, I'm taking care of this.
"

Old Redneck "Hey, hey boy, you're the one who kicked my truck. Yo
u

got to pay for a new grill." Brownhole "EI Bingeroso, come on, let's go. Sorry sir, my friend needs to get home, he's very drunk. Your grill looks fine." Old redneck "Who's gonna pay for a new grill for my truck? Goddammit!"

The bouncers thankfully re-intervened at this point, and everyone piled into Credit's car. Being the sober one I drove over to GoldenBoy's car, and GoldenBoy and Brownhole got out. We sat there and watched them get in, and then pull off.

This is important, because the conversation in the car for the next twenty minutes as we drove to Chapel Hill revolved around this event. EI Bingeroso was convinced that we had left GoldenBoy and Brownhole to die by the hands of the rednecks. Hate refused to believe that there were any guns involved. Thomas was convinced we were being followed. Credit fell asleep. It went something like this:

Hate "Dude, we fucking left GoldenBoy and Brownhole. They're fucking dead, man. We left them to die man. What the fuck!

Thomas "Tucker man, speed up, those lights have been behind us since we left Durham."

Tucker "Guys, everyone relax. GoldenBoy and Brownhole are fine, the redneck with the gun parked his truck, we are fine, so everyone just shut up."

Hate "What gun are you guys talking about? There was no gun."

Bingeroso "Fuck you Hate, I saw the fucking gun. I saw the gun that the rednecks are using right now to kill Brownhole and GoldenBoy.

How the fuck could we leave them? They've been shot. We left them For DEAD.THEY'RE DEAD! FUCK!!"

Hate "There was no gun."

Bingeroso "FUCK OFF HATE, I SAW THE FUCKING GUN. THERE WERETWO GUNS, ASSHOLE!!"

Thomas "Seriously, just pull into a police station. The red necks are following us."

Hate "Who cares? They don't have any guns.
"

Bingeroso "FUCK YOU MAN, I SAW THE GUN. I SAW THE FUCKIN
G
GUN! GOLDENBOY AND BROWNHOLE ARE DEAD! WHA
T
THE FUCK?!? WE ABANDONED THEM!
"

Thomas "Those are totally the same truck lights. They've been behin
d
Us since Durham. Tucker, seriously, start evasive maneuvers o
r
something.
"

Bingeroso "We left our friends ... WE'RE COWARDS.
"

Hate "Speak for yourself.
"

Bingeroso "FUCK YOU HATE! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!
"

We eventually made it to Chapel Hill. GoldenBoy and Brownhole wer
e
fine, noone was following us, Credit woke up, and everyone told Hat
e
that there were indeed guns. We drank some beers, calmed down
,
and headed home
.