SS Halloween Special Ch 7

There’s a crummy little biker bar on the far side of Gurlberg that is the town’s only real safe space for the queer women of the general public. CCL serves a similar purpose for the non-sorority queers on campus. The biker bar absolutely will not serve **** to anyone under twenty-one, but CCL is more relaxed. Previous sorority presidents have leaned into CCL’s controversial reputation for a variety of reasons, but the current administration is running hard in the other direction, trying to make CCL more approachable.

That means the first floor is full of curious nerds, furries, and Elsa doesn’t even know who else. A two-person pink, sparkling unicorn costume or MLP or whatever the fuck prances through the front hall while Cardi B blares. Apple’s party of amateur occultists descends into the miasma of beer, perfume, and queso.

“Is that Donut?” Ying asks on the way to the kitchen as the unicorn crashes face-first into a girl rounding a corner. Everyone goes down in a pile while rum and coke go everywhere.

“But who’s the back half?” Kylie asks.

“Good question,” Elsa says. “Clean that up,” she adds to a nearby pledge dressed as the Terrifier clown. That’s still a better costume than the girl being sexy Cookie Monster in the living room.

The kitchen is crowded. Crockpots bubble, the oven hums with pizza rolls inside, and liquor bottles cover the counter.

“What’s a scary cocktail?” Kylie asks, rubbing her hands together.

“Are you being an Avatar? Don’t they have tails?” a drunk girl that Elsa has never seen before asks.

“I think I’m a video game,” she replies.

“Your cooch is out.”

Elsa takes a deep breath for patience. It’s not out; it’s just… well-defined. She self-consciously tries to tug at the costume, but it doesn’t help. It’s worse than a second skin.

“Fuck off,” she says to the girl, then turns to Kylie. “Vodka tonic.”

“What’s scary about that?” Kylie asks, getting tonic from the fridge as Ying cracks open a bottle of Svedka.

“If I don’t have one in five seconds, I’ll do a mass shooting,” Elsa promises.

“Put some of these in here. We might need snacks while we tamper in Satan’s domain,” Colby says, stuffing bags of Cheetos into Apple’s cauldron.

“I thought this wouldn’t take long,” Kylie says as she and Ying put ice in Solo cups and mix the drinks. “And where are you gonna conceal your gun, mate?” She looks Elsa up and down. “So can I slap your butt?”

“No. Still no.”

Mindy prances through in a black skirt and top with a tail, cat ears, and drawn-on whiskers.

“Low effort. Sad,” Colby says.

Mindy yanks the fridge open and leans in. She wiggles her hindquarters. “Yeah, but the tail’s real.”

“If Prez finds out, she’ll scold you and tell your mum,” Kylie warns. “And are you stealing my body butter? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Mindy comes out with a big container of yogurt. She gazes at Kylie for a moment, hisses, and flees.

Kylie takes a long drink. “Did I tell you all that on Tuesday she was scissoring Tanner with the door open?”

“Who?”

“Tanner from, you know. The thing,” Elsa says, snatching a cup from Ying and gulping greedily.

“What happens when you have to pee?” Kylie asks, watching her. “Do you have to take it all off?”

Elsa chokes. She wipes her mouth with a groan and immediately goes back to drinking. She doesn’t want to think about that problem right now.