Out of all three of the initial toilet murder victims, I had the most fun writing Chad’s story.
The dude is 28, working on his tenth year of a two-year college degree. What would have been a relatively short period of time devoted to education ended up being a decade long quest because the man (or man child) can’t stop drinking and partying and won’t focus on finishing his degree requirements.
I suppose in many ways, Chad is an avatar for any adult who refuses to put away the past, to put away childish things, who wants that youthful, carefree party lifestyle to last forever.
In reality, partying till you puke is barely a good look for the young, but you get why they do it because they’ve never had that much freedom before. As you get older, partying till you puke becomes just plain sad.
Chad’s friends Britney and Paul get wrapped into it. Britney is the voice of reason. Paul must comply with his role as frat beermeister.
This chapter was hard to write. Lots of moving parts. On one part of the dance floor, you had the chug fest. On the other side, you had woke lesbians Gretchen and Eleanor, dancing away to rapper Stank Daddy.
I’ve had this joke in mind a long time and have long been waiting to work it into a story somewhere. The joke is that a rapper starts rapping about abuse to women. Two people wonder if they should be enjoying the song because its about abusing women. One person says no, that’s not what the song is about at all, but then it becomes increasingly clear as the rapper continues that the song is indeed about abusing women.
I love rap music. Sometimes I wonder if it’s just the beat and the rhythm and if you replace all the naughty lyrics with talk of milk and cookies, you’d get the same vibe. I don’t know. Let’s try it. Someone write and perform a rap song about milk and cookies and get back to me.