What Happens at Kappa Pi

At 6:17 a.m., Linda trudged barefoot down Maple Drive, clutching her handbag in front of herself.

The last thing she remembered was accepting a glass of punch at her son's initiation party. The next thing she remembered was waking up in front of the fraternity house, alone, with a pounding headache.

In between, there were only blurry images of cocks.

Lots of cocks.

Big cocks, long cocks, thick cocks, fat cocks, white cocks, black cocks.
She particularly wished she could forget the one with the fraternity tattoo.

Linda groaned.

Then a woman watering her roses glanced at the KAPPA PI T-shirt and grinned.

“That brings back some wild memories. My husband was a Kappa Pi man thirty years ago.”

Linda stopped dead.

“Oh, God. Is that bad?”

The woman leaned closer conspiratorially.

“Let's put it this way. Their motto was What happens at Kappa Pi stays at Kappa Pi.”

She paused.

“Although that may have changed in the age of Facebook.”

Linda closed her eyes.

Her handbag suddenly didn't feel nearly big enough.