It’s a Friday night, everyone is getting ready to go out. The music is loud and pong balls are flying, you’re sure it's going to be another epic adventure with your closest friends but before you hit the road you want a shot at becoming a beer pong legend. The snowy ball lands in the final cup of the game ahead of you and with the cheers of the victors, you push through the crowd and declare you’re the next challenger. Your best friend is beside you but only now they are no longer your best friend, they are your fellow soldier, for this is war.
Winners shoot first. Two cups are hit. You pull out your flask and take a hit from that side of whisky you prepped before the game. Its clean, and the warmth fills your insides like wood to a fire. You pass the cold steel to your partner and he takes a swig of the spiced rum he’s been hooked on since his visit to Jamaica. You give them the balls back. They toss again. It’s an air ball. Now it is your time to shine. You look to your partner and point to the first cup. With the blink of an eye you and your partner nail the same cup.
“That’s three and balls back!” your partner declares confidently because you know the rum is hitting him right.
The enemy passes you the balls back as they sip from their solo cups.
“I’ll end this” you say calmly to your comrade.
You inhale. Time slows down. You imagine you are Jordan in game 6. You fade back and let the light ball gently leave your finger tips. It soars through the air and with a smooth drop it plunges into your adversaries drink cup.
“Death cup!” screams the crowed.
You calmly look up and utter “should have brought a flask.”
Wolfy loves beer pong stories. Comment below and tell us the legacy you have left on the table.