The Baptism
About 4 or 5 years ago, we had a close encounter with the lord at a house I used to live at. This was an average sized house in a very wealthy neighborhood. We were at the very front of the neighborhood, and our house was the eye sore for everyone. It was an ugly eggshell white, and made out of pure cinder blocks. The outside of it looked like the inside of a public school. Just hideous. It was on a golf course, and the driveway connected to a golf course's service road. Just a dirt road that's a back entrance onto the golf course, for trucks and mowers to get onto the course. Along this service road was a deep, muddy, ditch that was infested with mosquitoes. It always looked like my toilet does after a heavy night of drinking.
There were 4 of us living in this 3 bedroom house. We had recently just moved in, and it was our first place that we all lived in outside of our parents' houses. You may be asking, "Well if there is 4 guys, and only 3 bedrooms… where does the last guy stay?" Wow, great question! Well we converted the tiny ass dining room into a room. And no, I wasn't the guy living in there. We made the Brazilian stay in there. The dining room was connected to the kitchen and the living room without doors, there were just wide open archways. We put up curtains over the archways to add some "privacy." Mind you, curtains do not block any sort of noise. His girlfriend didn't appreciate the curtains, but it didn't sound like she minded if you know what I mean :lenny:. The other 2 guys and myself played rock, paper, scissors to see who got the other rooms. The master bedroom and large guest bedroom went to the other 2 guys, and the tiny bedroom went to me. I only had about 4' x 4' of space after my bed, furniture, and desk were all in it. Just enough space for some Rock Band drums, so I was fine. At least I wasn't the Brazilian.
We all settled in pretty fast to the place. The guy that had the master bedroom had his 21st birthday 1 week after we got into this place. He had the bright idea of throwing a kegger at the house for his birthday. He was the oldest out of all of us, so we had no way of getting a keg. Luckily, I was dating a girl that was a few years older than me, so she got us the keg, but she kept saying that she had a bad feeling about this whole situation. We were new in the neighborhood, new to renting a place, and kind of dumb, but we still decided to go through with the plan anyway.
We had a buddy of ours come over and he offered to DJ, so sure whatever. His name was Gal, and we came up with his DJ name to be DJ Seagal. That has nothing to do with the story, but I still think that name was funny. We made a **** ton of jungle juice, had the keg, and made a bunch of jello shots. We ended up spending close to $700 on alcohol, and realized that we couldn't really afford that, so we decided to charge for cups. $5 all you can drink, and you get a cup. You can drink the jungle juice, keg, or whatever. We had our sober friend that doesn't drink handle the money, and then we drew ****s on everyone's hands that paid in Sharpie. It was silver Sharpie too, so no one can fake it because who the hell has a silver Sharpie? Apparently I did. We had everything set up, and we started making the calls for invites.
People started showing up. Then more people. And more people. There was probably 100 people in our living room, and 40-50 more out in our backyard. We had people underage, people in their 30s and higher. We had locals, tourists, and even J1 workers that were from other countries. There were a lot of workers on Visas from Ireland that year. They were out back chanting Irish drinking songs. They weren't just chanting though, they were SCREAMING and CHEERING at the top of their lungs. It was probably all the coke that they brought... They also taught us about dragoning.
Dragoning is apparently an Irish tradition where you have to act like a dragon when you're about to puke. So when you know you're about to puke from drinking, you have to scream "A DRAGON IS COMING!!!!" This then causes a chain reaction of people yelling "DRAGON!!!!" which notifies everyone that the tradition is about to take place. Once everyone is watching and is circled around the person that is about to puke, that person must begin flapping their arms like wings. Then they must puke while flapping their arms like they are breathing fire. It's meant to shame the person from drinking too much, and not being able to handle their alcohol. But that night, people saw it as a challenge.
So let's take a moment to have an overview of how this night is going: There are probably 150 people at this small, ugly house in a rich neighborhood, cars are everywhere, the front yard is a parking lot, people are tailgating, trash everywhere, you can barely move in the living room, people are shoulder to shoulder, there are dozens of Irish guys chanting in the backyard, and everyone is trying to drink so much that they puke so that they can Dragon for everyone. It's an utter **** show.
Naturally there were more dudes than girls, so the testerone was heavy that night. Guys were trying to impress girls, and the beer pong table was packed for that. Guys apparently think that winning at beer pong means they're going to get laid, so arguments started to erupt over rules and cheating and whatever else. Cue the first fight of the night. One guy decided to jump over the beer pong table, and sock another guy in the face over an argument. I don't know what the argument was over, but it ended up in one dude bleeding profusely from his nose. Blood all over the beer pong table and then on to the tile floor. People were trying to get away from the fight, and they were all stepping into the blood. Shoe prints of blood all over the house now. Great. Cue the second fight.
Another guy got pissed that his all white Air Maxes were now blood stained, so he starts fighting with the beer pong player who threw the first punch. Chaos ensues. Irish guys out back notice fighting, and they are like flies on ****. They all start climbing through windows to get inside to start fighting. Conor McGregor could have been at the house that night for all I know. So I start to look for my roommates so we can start telling everyone to get the **** out. All my roommates are TRASHED, and can't even talk. I expected it from my roommate who was having his 21st birthday party, but not from the other two. I'm the only somewhat coherent one, and start telling everyone to get the **** out. Party's over.
No one even budges. Half the people there don't even know I live in the house. My girlfriend had left earlier because she was pissed about so many underaged kids there drinking from a keg that was being rented in her name. So I come to this realization that I'm alone in a sea of ****. I have a bright idea. I quickly go to each of my close friends, and tell them that I'm going to yell the cops are coming and for them to stay. Then I go ahead and start yelling about the blue lights and the cops are coming. Chaos turns into panic and people immediately start jumping out windows, climbing fences, peeling out of the front yard. Some girls start crying and everything. I'd say about 80% of people left. Good start. Bad thing is the 20% left are made up of my close friends and all of the fighters.
I start gathering my close friends and I ask them about the guys that are fighting. They're all guys from a rival school, that just go to parties to start fights. They're just *******s in general. Basically the only way to get them to leave was to physically make them leave. There are about 10 of us inside, all of my close friends, trying to get 8 or so *******s to leave. We shove them outside out of garage. One of our close friends walks out to get in their face. Poor Charlie got sucker punched. Dropped cold in one shot. A couple of us run out, shove the guys and drag Charlie back in. And I slam the garage door shut. One of the *******s begins to DROP KICK our door. I can see it starting to cave in from it being dented so far in. He knows we can't call the cops because we're underage, so he's just wreaking havoc. Girls inside heard these noises and thought they were gun shots. So they started screaming inside, and run outside to see what's happening. They see Charlie knocked out in the garage, and immediately think Charlie is shot. The neighbors have to hear all of this commotion by now..
One of my drunk roommates is over in the corner of the garage, drunkenly trying to crank start our chainsaw to scare them off. He couldn't get it started, so instead he picks up the turned off chainsaw, and then proceeds to walk to the garage door and yell "LET'S **** THEM UPPPP!!!" On that cue, we flung the door open.
My roommate starts running around with the chainsaw yelling. He's just swinging the chainsaw all around. The rest of us start fighting. I start seeing some of my friends drop, some the *******s drop, and then I notice one of my friends pick up an ******* over his shoulders and carry him over to the toilet ditch next to the house. I **** you not, he threw the kid like a barrel over his head into the ditch. He wasn't done yet. He climbed into the ditch after the kid, and continued to hold his head under the water. Essentially giving him a baptism. He wasn't trying to drown him, just scaring him. At least that's what he told us after. The other *******s thought that kid was getting murdered, so they turned around to help him. My friend so that as an opportunity to run back out of the ditch.
He climbed back up with us, and smelled AWFUL. The kid he threw had his Vans fall off when he picked the kid up. When he saw the shoes, he threw them at the kid. The first shoe missed, but the second hit him directly in the mouth. It was the best throw I've ever seen. Eventually the *******s got their friend out of the ditch, and then they wanted to really kick my friend's ass. So they started to charge. Well my friend climbed into his truck right next to the garage, and pulled out a gun. Of course we all were like "NO WHAT THE ****!" The *******s started running, and thank god my friend didn't pull the trigger. The *******s finally left. Then the friend with the gun started laughing, and we were not happy with him. He pointed at the ground, and pulled the trigger. It was a squirt gun.
We started to look over the damages. Charlie finally came to, and only had a black eye. Didn't remember anything. Another friend of mine dislocated his shoulder while fighting. He couldn't move. We took a whole box of popsicles and wrapped it around his shoulder. Then someone drove him to the hospital. No one got cut by the chainsaw miraculously, and my roommate couldn't start it because he didn't know what choke meant. A few bruises on everyone else, but no serious injuries. Girls inside still crying because they think Charlie was shot and killed. They looked like they saw a ghost when he walked in. All-in-all everyone was fine. The house was a WRECK though. Bloody shoe prints everywhere, a few couch arms were crooked from people standing or sitting on them, chairs were broken, beer cans everywhere, puke all over the backyard from Dragons, and the handle of the front door was ripped off when people thought the cops were coming.
Once I started gathering my thoughts, about what just happened, I started thinking the cops were for sure on their way. There was no way in hell that any of the neighbors didn't call the cops, between the chanting, the yelling, the fighting, and the screams of "HE'S SHOT!" and "HE'S GOT A GUN!" I got really ****ing nervous, and just went into my room without the light on and sat there. I started thinking about what I was going to tell my mom for my 1 free call for jail, I started thinking about losing my scholarships, and I started thinking about the night being my fault for letting it happen.
For some strange reason the cops never came. No one called the cops. All my roommates like to think it was because our friend gave that one ******* his baptism that night. He appeased god. Our house was also christened with blood and puke. If it wasn't for all of our religious sacrifices that night, I'd like to think I wouldn't be where I am today.