The Night Terror Struck Hall 4

Alright Mates, Brotherhood's Lost GY returns after a long exodus from the blogging scene after countless requests from fans. (Yes, EVERYONE wants a piece of me. So you'd better dig it!!)

The reasons why I've made a comeback include the following:- (1) The fans need a literary orgasmic piece of work. (2) I need closure on a certain INCIDENT that took place on the 23rd of Sept. (3) I made a solemn promise to keep the blog alive. (4) Ok, the awful truth - I've got 4 hours till the next lecture and I've practically got NOTHING to do cos I ain't got much of a life...

There are many versions of what happened on THE NIGHT TERROR STRUCK HALL 4, but I trust that you critical and well-intellectually endowed individuals out there will know, after reading this, that my version isn't a shenanigan like the rest out there.

Well ok, I'm gonna cut to the chase and dive right into the INCIDENT. Here's a low-down of what happened in chronological order:

5 days before the INCIDENT: I get down with a bad cough. I lose precious hours of sleep and a kick ass rocker voice to the fucking cough for days on end.

2 days before the INCIDENT: My cough does not get any better. I met GY Beng at the corridor and he went around announcing that my birthday was on Saturday(the 24th) and beckoned the rest of the people in hall (mainly my neighbours along the same corridor) to join him in celebrating my birthday on Thursday night, that week, cos I would have gone home by Friday night.

1 day before the the INCIDENT: I was physically drained after nearly a week's long battle with the cough. I don't get any better and I continue to lose sleep cos of the violent coughing. GY Beng decided that the highlight of the celebration would be a liquor buffet. The others readily agreed.

D-day, H-hour of the INCIDENT: Mates from hall gathered (Familiar faces, and not so familiar faces. I stopped to wonder if celebrating my birthday was indeed the main reason of it all). A mini bar was set up. The aura of death got increasingly heavy. Strong situational irony since it was supposed to be a celebration of LIFE. I was given the choice to omit some liquors from the bar if there were any that I would have had a negative reaction to. I pushed my luck and chose all and rightfully got the finger from the people present. In the end, I just declared a NO-TEQUILLA-EVENING. I hate tequilla. It looks like pee, smells horrific and has a totally revolting taste. Whatever the rest of you think, TEQUILLA SUCKS.

5 mins into the INCIDENT: The guys show me the cake they got for me. Lo and behold, a little red gayass TELLY-TUBBIE cake was revealed before me. How apt fellas, the red Telly-Tubbie, a foreboding sign of the blood that would be spilled soon after. A standard singing-of-birthday-song, blowing-out-of-candles and cake-cutting routine ensued.

7 mins ino the INCIDENT: The liquor buffet commenced. Bert drew 1st blood by offering a toast to me. A shot of whiskey. Short and sharp. No biggie, just a couple more and they'd let me off. They'll cut me some slack cos I was still sick. (You live with people for about a year. They seem like good lads. You trust that they won't fuck you up when you're not at your best. Welcome to the Real World.)

8 mins into the INCIDENT: The flood gates opened. I downed shots with Zac, Robin and Hongwei. I had earlier declared a NO TEQUILLA NIGHT- a declaration that was forgotten as soon as it was made. Apparently, GY Beng had "made the effort to cut up some lemons slices" and in order for them not to go to waste, I HAD TO DOWN A SHOT OF HORSE PEE WITH HONGWEI. Fuck you, lemon strips.

11 mins into the INCIDENT: I made Weihao wait for his turn. I had to buy my time cos everyone suddenly got thirsty. I dispatched it eventually.... 5 down in under 5 mins. I'm sure the guys knew that it wasnt very nice and ethical to get a sick man pissed drunk. What ethics? Who said anything about them being SNAGs?

12 mins into the INCIDENT: I walked around to buy time. I needed a way outta this. There wasnt. Pak Seng then offered me a toast. I had to drink it cos apparently, he had "a quiz the next day" so he had to "leave early". I downed it. He stayed on - for the rest of the night. There was no quiz.

15-17 mins into the INCIDENT: I was starting to feel it. The effects of the booze was kicking in. GY Beng and Bert had managed to get this chick from another block over to toast me a couple of drinks. I downed 2 shots of whiskey with her, as a sport. I found out later that she drank coke. I hate you guys, really do.

20 mins into the INCIDENT: A random bunch of hostelites came down the stairway. I hadn't seen any of them before. They were going for supper. We were in the midst of a liquor buffet. Nothing to do with one another. Just some random hostelites. WRONG. Bert went over to the thorn among the roses and got him to offer me a toast. Well, how can a champ refuse the chance to impress the ladies with his capacity for a single shot of booze? He stepped right up and offered me a shot. Ignoring death threats from me, he downed his shot. I downed my as well. Fuck you random hostelite.

25-30mins into the INCIDENT: I was seriously feeling the kick. 9 down in such a short span is NO JOKE, even for an ace like myself. Out came Tartie, back from some hot date. Poured me a shot of Kahlua (or was it Bailey's? Fuck it I couldnt tell the diff. Didnt make a diff anyway...) I begged for some time to settle down 1st. Tarts obliged, but only for about 3 mins. Then he lost patience and insisted that I drank with him. GY Beng, sensing that it might be my last shot for the evening, tagged along for a shot of glory. (He specified before everything that he wanted the shot that would make me empty my guts out.) We toasted to honour and friendship. I held the liquor in. Yeah I know, I rock.

35 mins into the INCIDENT: Pak Seng came by again. This time swearing that he had to go for sure. Cos "it was getting late". He offered me another toast before he "left". "I cant drink anymore dude! I'm wasted!" I explained. Ignoring me, he emptied his shot glass. Bert offered to drink half of my shot for me. It was too good to be true. Indeed it was. He drank like a tenth of the shot glass and told me to finish the rest. I did. Fuck you and your lies Bert.

40 mins into the INCIDENT: Bert and Pak Seng drag me away from the danger zone to cool off. We talked about chicks and random stuff for God knows how long.

About an hour into the INCIDENT: They brought me back to the corridor. It was finally over. I was wasted. Everyone was happy. Objective met. Case closed. Did I mention that Fate was a bitch? Yes, I will say this again. FUCK YOU FATE, YOU'RE A BITCH. GY Beng caught sight of another chick walking past the corridor to deliver supper to GAY. He raced to get her, brought her over, and you know the drill guys. She emptied her shot glass, I emptied mine.

1 hour, 5 mins into the INCIDENT: GY Beng revealed a sensitive, caring side. He was worried that I'd get dehydrated so he offered me some water. Well actually it was like 2 goddamn litres of water. Suddenly it all became clear. HE WAS STILL BENT ON GETTING HIS SHOT OF GLORY. If drinking a whole variety of bullshit liquor doesnt fuck me up enough to make me puke, drinking massive amounts of fluids would have done the trick. I drank half of it, insisted that I DID NOT WANT TO PUKE, and refused to drink anymore water. He drank some of what was left in my bottle and I was forced to finish the rest. FUCK YOU GY Beng.

1 hour, 20 mins into the INCIDENT: I was gone. Totally wasted. But still I stood strong. I held the booze in like a man - for 1hour and 20 mins. I lay there on my bed. Felt my entire being careening through the universe. I ain't no sufferer of vertigo, but I could have sworn I saw my entire room spin. That was it for me. I puked the evening's contents into a make shift spittoon the guys had left at my bedside outta good will.

10 hours after the INCIDENT: The morning after. I had lived to tell the tale. I got up. I was totally strung out. I made my way across the street for some breakfast after the morning bath. I met someone when I came back. Think it was GAY. He told me Weisheng puked on his foot. Apparently the guys had drank till 6am.

Post script: (1) I can't drink to save my life.
(2) Trust no one.
(3) Really, trust no one.
(4) If something seems too good to be true, it often is.
(5) Fate is a bitch. Always been, always will be. Period.