*Juke searches through the catalog of songs on his jukebox. There it is...the perfect song: Ludacris's "Move B*tch.*
If you are an Alpha in South Georgia, you know two things: 1) You will be investigated for hazing, regardless of whether you are really hazing and 2) you earn your stripes by going to Gorilla Thrilla in Valdosta, Ga. What is Gorilla Thrilla, you ask? Well, I will tell you.
Gorilla Thrilla is pre-eminent party event of the Alpha calendar in Southern Georgia. Every year, the brothers of VSU put together the crunkest, nakedest, and sweatiest party that the world has ever seen. Simply put, the party is legendary, and if you haven't been to one, it needs to be on your bucket list. And since Mu Omicron is a brother chapter of sorts with my undergraduate chapter, we make it a point to attend the event every year.
A few things you can count on at Gorilla Thrilla:
1) Every dude will get a lap dance or a slow hunch against the wall. It is inevitable. I am so glad YouTube was not big when I was in college.
2) Most of the women, with the exception of the sorors and the upperclassmen, would be naked. As an example, one year, some girls came to the party in dresses made of saran wrap and pasties. Yeah, that naked.
and 3) Somebody's ass would get whooped (typically a local or a football player).
Now considering numbers one and two, it doesn't make sense for dudes to get mad enough for number three to happen. But that is when we must remember that the ones fighting typically aren't gentlemen...these are the REAL N*GGAS!
And so our story begins...
It was Gorilla Thrilla 2002 (or 2003...they all blur together after 8 years of attending). The atmosphere at Rick's nightclub was filled with debauchery and no-goodness, and it was right up our alley. As soon as we walked in, we went straight to the cage area, where we were greeted by the most supple of freshmen women. The ladies were choosing, and we were all selected in the first round of the draft. (Damn shame that the other dudes had to take left overs, but hey...I told you 7 D.E.P. ain't bout them games.)
So about an hour into the lap dances, we decided to take a break and head to the lobby area to regroup. It was situated between the two club rooms, so we took a quick break there before heading back.
Or so we thought.
Well, as it turns out, a fight was brewing in the lobby area, and we walked right into the start of this fight. What followed was one of the most spectacular ass-whoopings ever seen on the eastern seaboard.
Most fights are usually a bunch of dudes throwing punches and stomping people out, but no real damage being done. However, remember when I told you that these are REAL N*GGAS? Yeah, well it showed in their fighting. The fight was even (10 on 10) and everyone basically squared off into pairs to do battle. One thing you can say about this fight...it was a fair one-on-one brawl. Oh you shoulda seen this melee...bottles upside the head...uppercuts to the jaws...it was phenomenal.
Just as Rickie and I thought we had seen it all...one dude in the crowd said "MOVE BACK!"
The entire crowd parted and made room. As soon as the room was clear, the guy picks up the dude he was fighting, and powerbombs him from the top of a couch through a table. I couldn't make this up if I tried. A full-out "Pearl River Plunge" type powerbomb through a standard wood table. The entire crowd looked on in amazement...even the other people who were fighting.
After going through the table, surprisingly, the dude stood back up and tried to get his bearings.
That's when he caught a chair to the back of the head. Seemed like overkill, but I have to admit that it did add icing to the top of an already spectacular cake.
Now you may be asking...where was security in all of this? Security was trying not to get their asses kicked during the fight, so they took their time breaking this one up. (See, whereas you saditty people may be used to having trained security at your clubs, down here in S. GA, we just get the biggest football players that need extra money and they now become security. Sometimes it works...sometimes it doesn't. The next story will cover the latter.)
The weirdest thing about it all was...EVERYBODY WALKED AWAY FROM THE FIGHT. No ambulance needed, no one went to jail. Everyone got tired of fighting, called it quits, and walked out of the club unharmed. I promise you, if this was a YouTube video, it would have gotten a million views in the first week alone. We were in such utter disbelief that we had to deal with our shock the best way we knew how...we went back to getting lapdances. (And those young ladies waited patiently for our return. So if you are reading this, we thank you for being so understanding.)
To this day, we still don't understand how a fight of that magnitude could end so peaceably, but one thing is for certain...Gorilla Thrilla lived up to its name.
Join me next time for part 2 of the Gorilla Thrilla tales...it involves two cracked bottles of Moet and 10 GBI agents.
*And scene*
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