[center][color=00a651][h1]Connor MacQuarrie[/h1][/color]

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As soon as they got there, Connor began liberally distributing vodka like some kind of alcoholic Santa Claus. He briefly lamented not bringing any beer for himself, but he was quickly able to arrange a trade with Nick Dawson, and almost immediately got into beer pong. There were a few people gathered around a regulation sized folding beer pong table (Connor’s own birthday present to Aspen the previous year), tossing balls around with minimal success. One of the players, a freshman Connor vaguely recognized, threw an underhand shot that went wide. Connor deftly snatched it out of the air. “Tisk tisk scrublords, that is not how you pray game!”

“Hey! I was winning!” the frosh complained. “By one cup, we aint got all night son,” Connor replied. The frosh was about to say something more but Connor cut him off “Bud, your game is pasghetti weaksauce. Fear not, I will teach you the ways of the pong, young skyfrosh.”

Connor put more cups down, bringing each side back up to an even six, then raised his voice and adopted a solemn tone. “Listen up, swaglets. These are the rules of the pongmasters, passed down from generation to generation, all the way from Ghengis Pong. Teams of 2; this is a party, drunkness must be maximized top speed. No underhand shots; your days of scrub are over. No blocking; if it touches your body before it reaches a cup, you drink. Both players score, drink em up then give the balls back. 2 balls in 1 cup, drink that cup and all the cups it touches. You get 1 rearrange, do not waste it. Bounce shots are allowed to be blocked, but if they get in, drink 2 cups. If it’s circling, you may blow it out, no fingers. Lastly, redemption is for pussys, take your loss with some dignity. So say I, Conan the Barbari-pong. Skyfrosh, you’re with me. Step up or step away chumps!”

Connor knew there was a balance to beer pong; a plateau of optimum drunkenness where you played your best. Getting up to the plateau was easy, staying there was hard. A cup too many, and you tipped over the edge onto the slippery slope ranging from ‘too drunk for beer pong’ to ‘yakking your guts out’. Connor and Skyfrosh (mostly Connor) won their first game easily against Nick and a random sophomore. They lost their second game though, to a pair of freshman girls who were a lot more skilled than they looked. By their third game, Connor hit the plateau and won, and their fourth, he sank each of his shots with brutal efficiency.

The thing was, he quickly depleted his traded beer, so Connor started putting vodka and Jam! Nitro in his cups. On top of that, he kept a separate drinking drink on the go, first beer, then his personal concoction. The beer pong table grew louder and more excited as the games went by, friends and strangers alike watching each shot with baited breath, exchanging jibes and jokes.

 By the time Acacia started up a game of Never Have I Ever, he was pretty sauced, and as the game went on he kept on having to drink. Nate’s question caused him to drink again; he was down to four fingers, and then it was his turn. “Bruh. Why have I done so many thaaangs. Ok. Alright. Gucci. Ice. Never have I ever…” he paused, “had a sister!” he announced triumphantly, clapping his hand on Nate’s shoulder.