Page 22 of Single Girl Rules #ThreeHeadedMonster

“The winning team will be one step closer to joining the most exclusive brotherhood ever created. The rest of you will be exposed as the worthless peasants that you are. Fail tonight, and membership in the Gryphon Club will be forever out of your grasp.”

He stepped back into the row of cloaked figures. A third stepped forward.

“Each of you is standing in front of a bust immortalizing the very best that Harvard has to offer. To honor those alumni, you will each be given a task that you must perform without question or complaint until the day you are initiated.”

The fourth cloaked figure stepped out of the line and walked over to the guy standing by statue #1.

“Pledge #1,” he yelled, which was totally unnecessary since he was standing like 2 feet away from him. “Which Harvard alum do you honor?”

Once he recovered from the super aggressive yelling, Pledge #1 turned and read the placard beneath his statue. “I honor Henry T. Walker, sir.”

“Correct!” yelled the cloaked guy. “And to honor the true inventor of blue jeans, you shall wear the same pair of jeans every day. And every Sunday, we’ll cut two inches of material off until you’re wearing the sassiest little pair of daisy dukes that this campus has ever seen. Do I make myself clear?”

“Sir, yes sir!” Pledge #1 gave a salute, which felt appropriate based on the drill sergeant vibes of the cloaked guy.

“Let’s see how they fit!” The drill sergeant grabbed a wrapped present next to the statue and handed it to Pledge #1. He pulled his pants off and slid into his new jeans. They were even tighter than I’d expected them to be. And the poor guy didn’t even have a nice package to fill them out. Something told me that he would not be a future member of the Gryphon Club.

The cloaked figure moved on to Pledge #2, who announced he was honoring a star basketball player.

“Correct! And to honor him, you’ll dribble a basketball everywhere you go. If anyone asks why, you’ll tell them that you’re doing it, ‘For the love of the game.’ ”

Pledge #2 laughed. “This is bullshit. I’m not doing that.”

I thought the drill sergeant was gonna go ballistic on him, but he stayed perfectly calm. In fact, he didn’t even respond.

The bookshelf behind Pledge #2 swung open and four gloved hands yanked him backwards. It happened so fast that he didn’t even have time to scream. I blinked and the bookshelf was whole again, with Pledge #2 nowhere to be seen.

I made a mental note to tell Daddy to have something like that installed in our library. That was a badass way to deal with annoying idiots.

The drill sergeant moved to Pledge #3, who eagerly agreed to act as the Gryphon Club’s 24/7 on-call tech support in honor of tech mogul James Hunter.

James Hunter is a member of the Gryphon Club? Now I really wanted to help Chad get in. Because rumor had it that James had a huge dick. And that he knew how to use it.

If Chad could get close to him, then maybe I could find out if those rumors were true.

The rest of the pledges all agreed to ridiculous things as well…but all I could focus on was trying to figure out what I was gonna have to do. I had a feeling I was going to end up with a mustache and mutton chops. Which wouldn’t be the best look for me, but I guess I had the bone structure to pull it off. Ooooh! Maybe I’d have to go around asking ran

dom guys for mustache rides. Now that would be a fun mission.

“And who are you honoring?” demanded the drill sergeant. He was even louder now that he was standing in front of Chad, only a few feet to my right.

Chad totally butchered some Asian prince’s name.

“That’s the father of modern medicine in Thailand, you worthless idiot! And to honor him, you’ll address every person of authority as ‘Daddy’ for the rest of the semester. Including all members of the Gryphon Club. Do I make myself clear, son?”

“Yes, Daddy!” shouted Chad.

I stifled a laugh. The way he said it sounded so sexual.

The drill sergeant came to me next. “Who are you honoring?” It didn’t really seem like he was looking at me. He was looking past me at my statue, probably trying to remember whatever crazy task I was going to be assigned.

I turned and read the plaque of my handsome mustachioed bust. “I’m honoring General Orville Thunderstick III, sir.”

“General Thunderstick once killed a dozen confederate soldiers bare-ass naked using his underwear as his only weapon. So to honor him, you shall go commando for the rest of the semester.”

I needed so much more information about why he was naked and how he killed twelve men using only his underwear. But I’d have to research that on my own time.

“Yes sir,” I said. I reached up my skirt, pulled my thong off, and handed it to the drill sergeant.

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