Rise, My Minions!

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Chapter 1 “What exactly are you supposed to be, again?” a random sorority chick asked. “The dude with the wooden eye from Pirates of the Caribbean?” I could barely hear the woman over the sound of the booming electronic dance music that blasted through the entire frat house, but I just chuckled and held up the fake hook hand that I had attached to my left arm. “Just a regular pirate,” I said with a smile. “But I can see how you’d make that mistake.” “Niccccceeeee,” the blonde woman slurred, then she shot me finger guns and disappeared into the crowd. Honestly, I was just happy she didn’t claim I was a ‘killer scarecrow’ like so many other people at this Halloween party had been doing. I figured the tricorne hat that sat atop my curly red locks would have been a dead giveaway, but most people just saw my loose-fitting brown and tan clothes and jumped to the conclusion that I had gone with a Wizard of Oz theme. It probably didn’t help that I was a lanky six-foot-four with dangling arms and long, thin legs, or the fact that pretty much everybody was plastered at this point in the night. As I passed my sixth Harley Quinn of the evening, I headed back to the punch bowl, which was a neon green color and had been spiked with so much alcohol that I couldn’t even discern what else was actually present. I’d come to the party alone, mostly because my friends were all too busy studying for their midterms to come out and have a little bit of fun. I also had midterms coming up, but I figured it’d be better for my psyche if I came out and enjoyed myself for a bit before I crammed for my exams. Then again, I was a Sophomore Computer Science Major that’d been interested in computing technology my entire life. It’s not like my midterms were gonna be that difficult, even if they were from a “nerd school” like Georgia Tech. Tonight, I wanted to forget all about school and let loose. I wasn’t in any of Georgia Tech’s frats, but everybody who was anybody knew that when a GT frat threw a costume party, you’d better be there because the girls will go all out. Maybe if I was lucky, I’d run into some gorgeous coed, hit it off, and then find true love. Or maybe I’d just have a drunken one-night stand. Honestly, I’d be cool with either one. “Gregory Damien?” a drunken man’s voice gasped. “Holy shit, I never thought I’d see you at one of these!” I turned and saw the dude that sat next to me in English one-thirty stumbling toward me with a red Solo Cup in his hand and his arms extended wide. As he approached, my brain seemed to go blank, and I couldn’t remember his name for the life of me. “Hey... you, uhh dude…” I said with an awkward laugh. “You’re a long way from English class, eh?” “Duuuude,” the guy laughed as he tapped me playfully on the chest with his open palm. “This is a no-school zone, my man. When you’re in this house, we don’t even dare mention the names of our professors, the shitty books they make us read, or any assignments. And the word midterm? Well, that will get you kicked out of the place completely.” “That’s why I’m here,” I said. “I wanna forget mid- er, the stuff that’s happening at school right now.” “Uh, ohhhhhh,” the guy snorted. “You wanna forget? Because big Jim here can totally make you forget. I got you, bro!” Jim. That was his name. The dude was dressed up in a foam costume that was made to make him look like an avocado. It was about as cheap a costume as you could get, and I was pretty sure he’d just picked it up last-minute before the party started. “Please,” I said and rolled my eyes. “I want this to be a night that I don’t remember!” “Right this way, my man!” Jim said. “I’ve got just the game for you.” The guy tried to put his arm around my shoulder, but he was about a head shorter than I was, and his arm awkwardly wrapped around my upper back. He instantly pulled away, looked up into my eyes, and then burst out laughing. Jim then shook his head and gestured for me to follow, so I did. Jim led me over to a group of other students, all of whom were standing around a table with several Solo cups stationed in the same formation as bowling pins. “Beer pong?” I asked. “I can handle Coors Light, man.” “Ohhhh, no.” Jim shook his head. “This ain’t beer pong… It’s a special variation that we play every time we throw a rager like this. Check it out.” Jim walked over and snatched up one of the cups from the table, which prompted the two players to throw their hands out in frustration and yell at us. When Jim held the cup of alcohol up to my nose, though, I quickly realized it wasn’t beer. My nostrils instantly picked up an overpowering scent of alcohol and nothing else. “Crap, dude!” I coughed as I felt my nose hairs stand on end. “What is that, pure kerosene?” “New