Old West Tales - Pretty Funny Line

For an introduction to Old West Tales, click here: Old West Tales - Introduction

I'm not much of a fighter. I have never really been in a fight.

Actually, maybe I have.

Is it a fight if only one person fights, or only an ass-kicking?

One night, near the end of second semester, Vic and I had a PJ party in our Old West dorm room.

How to make PJ =

1. Cut up a bunch of fruit and put it in a cooler. (We used grapes, bananas, and apples.)

2. Pour a bottle of 180 proof grain alchohol (such as everclear) over the fruit.

3. Once the fruit has soaked up a lot of the alchohol, add red fruity beverages such as fruit juices and red colored kool aid.

4. Serve the PJ by leaving a plastic cup floating in the cooler which is used to dip into the PJ to fill people's cups.

Why do they call it PJ?

A = Because you wear it in bed. PJ tastes so good and is so potent (especially the fruit), that people always get drunker than they had planned and someone usually throws up bright red at some point during the night.

I don't remember much about our PJ party except that we had a lot of PJ left over the next day. That is when this particular Old West Tale took place.

The day after our PJ party, Joe Perry and I started drinking PJ again. Some parts and details of this story are a little fuzzy, others I can remember clearly, as if yesterday.

My roomates, Vic and Rich King were absent during this story, Vic was probably at his girlfriend's dorm and Rich must have gone home to yankee/vampire-ville for the weekend.

Joe and I left Old West with PJ and walked to Morrison dorm to see Mike Pike. Pike was one of Joe's friends from Siler City and was a freshman at UNC. Pike always wore a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes and he mumbled something awful. I could almost never understand what Pike was saying. I don't remember exactly why we went to see Pike, but I have a pretty good idea.

We didn't stay at Pike's room for long because he was with a girl. It was really quite amazing. Here was this mumbly freshman who was shacking up with a beautiful, upperclassman, sorority girl. I didn't quite understand it, but good for Pike.

Joe and I walked back to Old West for more PJ. At this point the PJ had been sitting in the cooler for over 24 hours, fermenting. The fruit at the bottom of the cooler had turned to mush. At some point, we were joined by Steve, aka "Sane Guy".

For some reason, Steve and I started wrestling. I was actually getting the better of Steve, momentarily, until he turned into Sane Guy, tapped into some beserker strength, and started tossing me around pretty roughly in a non-friendly manner.

Joe pulled Sane Guy off and sort of shoved him out the door and shut and locked the door.

I regained my composure and decided to go and try to talk to Sane Guy.

I opened the door, stepped out into the suite, and was immediately met with a fist to the face. It was sort of like a pop. Not a roundhouse punch or anything, just a quick jab, right between the eyes. My head went back for a moment.

Why was Steve hitting me, it didn't make any sense. I tried to talk to him.

"Steve...", Whap! another quick punch, right between the eyes. My head went back again.

"What is he doing." I thought to myself. "Since my arms are at my side and I am not threatening him in any way, surely he will not hit me again."

I continued to walk towards Steve, trying to talk to him.

"Steve, what the..." Whap!

He did hit me again, and possibly one more time, Whap!

I eventually put my arms up in front of my face. At that point Sane Guy flung me across the suite and I landed in a heap, against the wall. Steve ran up to me and delivered another flurry of punches (these were harmless, as I was balled up with my arms covereing my face) and then fled down the stairwell, out of site.

As Steve was fleeing, Joe came out of the bathroom and Mike Bose came out of his room. I sat up and at that point and blood started streaming out of my nose.

Then one of the Ass frat boys that lived below us came up the stairwell. These guys usually did not confront us face-to-face when we were making noise, but would instead bang on the ceiling with something. This, of course, would make us put on boots and leap from the top bunk onto the floor, but I digress...

The Ass from the second floor stopped at the top of the stairwell and said "What in the F--- is going on?"

"He broke my F---ing nose!" I yelled, as I lifted my cupped hands, now overflowing with streaming blood, and showed him.

"I wish he would have broken your F---ing Mouth!" the Ass replied and then turned and went back down the stairs.

As I sat there waiting for my nose to stop bleeding I thought to myself, "I hate that frat-boy Ass, but that was a pretty funny line."