Congratulations Panty Bandits!

Today you and your fraternity brothers are going to be called before the Greek Council.  It will be a somber occasion.

“Sigma Epsilon Omega,” they’ll announce to the world, “we find you guilty of Party Foul Supreme.”

The hall will collectively gasp.  An effeminate man from the fraternity where bros don’t have to be on the DL will faint.  The dean will smirk from the corner.

He told you he’d get you two weeks back, and now he’ll have done it: set you up, you and all your boys.  You didn’t really Party Foul that hard.  There were no Repeated Spill Offenses or Unauthorized Roofie Attempts.  There was not a single Uncalled For Pantsing to be had.  All of the charges brought levied upon you by the Greek Council will be pure fabrication, spare one.

Coveting the girlfriend of the president of the Greek Council.

This most capital of offenses will be your true crime.  But this is not grounds for disbarment: this is grounds for challenge under Greek Code.

Or it should be, but the Dean, the president of the Council and one scheming math professor will have collaborated to keep you down.  And they’ll have covered all their bases, checked all the angles.  All spare one: they forgot that no one keeps down a Panty Bandit.

What ensues will be nothing short of an epic quest for revenge deserving of encapsulation in a myth of some sort, possibly a Greek one.  You and your brothers are in for one hell of a week.

Congratulations Panty Bandits!