Rush was over and the brothers at Omega Iota Lambda had some decisions to make.
Being the power frat of all power frats, the men knew exactly who they wanted and who they didn’t.
They were powerful, smart, sloppy, arrogant, rich, kick-ass s.o.b.'s and proud of it. Nobody messed with this bunch.
But they had two problems.
First, West Texas University had a new provost and she didn’t much care for the group. In fact, after their last party in which they managed to foul the entire local water system, she had campaigned to get them shut down.
Second, they had a nabob who was a legacy that wanted in. Big Dawg hated him from the time he saw him. “The piss ant was a cheerleader in high school. Doesn’t know sic ‘em from come here. He ain’t our type and never will be.”
“Look”, said The Genius, who was the incoming president of the fraternity. “I met with the provost bitch and she’s serious. This piss ant has big time connections. I know he ain’t quality, but we can use him to get thru this. His daddy wants him in. And his daddy can keep us alive. I say he gets a bid.”
“All hat and no cattle”, said Shotgun. “He comes in here like he already belongs and he ain’t done jack. Pinches one of those girls from Dallas majoring in MRS on the ass last night at the bar. Her boyfriend wanted to fight whoever did it. That little douche was shitfaced and pointed at me like I did it. Had to apologize to her and the boyfriend. He’s blackballed.”
The Genius mustered all his moxie and told ‘em, “If he’s not in, we’re done. Not a threat, a promise. We’re in that much trouble. He’s that connected and protected. Look, I know he’s a total poser, but we can ride him like a prom date and the party goes on forever.”
And thus, the cheerleader got his bid.
The West Texas University chapter of O. I. L. had found their patsy. And the party rages on.