A trunchen of discontent.

 

 

Last night, because we’re cool and y’know, you can’t spend every night being the stuff of legends whilst simultaneously giving everyone around you orgasms (Or at least, I can’t, my apologies to anyone who can that I’ve just offended) we played Trivial Pursuit in the kitchen. Please note, this was  German Trivial pursuit, and it was in the presence of vast quantities of alcohol… and Italians ü (smiley face)

This was all well and good until there was a rap-tap-tap on the door and in strode in all his blue-belted glory, the campus warden. Before the games even began, they were at risk of extermination thanks to this violent brute, wielding his torch so as to shine a light on the horror that is having fun. He gave us a choice, verily he did. Either whoever was responsible for this “party” left the room, or we were all to be removed. It’s important you are aware that by this point, we were still all eating dinner. Thankfully, Italian Giulio leapt to the rescue claiming authority, stating that this wasn’t a party and that of course we would tidy up afterwards, like all lovely foreigners.

A statement punctuated by a group throwing themselves into the door and beating a rhythm into it. “Hey, Where’s the party?!” hardly helping our argument.

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