After they finish their push-ups, George tells them that they're all worthless scum and asks if they're aware that the alumni is coming to town this weekend. They're fully aware of that because, for the last several weeks, the brothers have been behaving as if Jesus and his disciples were stopping by for a Bible-signing. George informs the guys that the alumni are a lot meaner than he is. Then that one ass-chomper Mike the Puke says that a lot of the alumni have some pretty serious jobs, and that they're going to be hard to impress. Okay...I'm expecting a lot of guys in business suits with haircuts that have actually been combed showing up at the brothers' house. That's what I should be expecting...right? Yeah. And while I'm tossing out style tips, here's something else I'd like to touch on: the style of wearing baseball caps backwards. Guess what? This look is not going to help you in your quest to lose your virginity, Mikey. Without the hat, you already look like a half-baked pinhead who would break down in tears over the simplest of math problems...but wearing it backwards makes you look like a prime candidate for the Short Bus Hall of Fame. Lose the hat and wash your fucked-up greasy hair, you booger-eating cretin.
Over at the pledge house, Tim, Steve, and Paul are standing around the Beer Pong Table, mentally trying to will it to put itself together, to no avail. Mike the Puke says that the pledges were assigned to build a Beer Pong table, and that beer pong is a "very sophisticated game." Maybe in Ethiopia, you drooling simpleton. The "very sophisticated game" line makes me laugh so hard that I spill bong water all over myself, so now I smell like Woodstock while I watch this shit. Ain't life fucking grand? Apparently, the rules are as follows -- and please, for your own benefit, take notes: You throw a ping pong ball into a cup of beer. That's it. Yeah Mike. That's sophisticated, all right. Then again, we're talking about a guy who needs a set of blueprints to wipe his ass. Mike brags that he was part of the pledge class that built "the best beer pong table ever." This guy's eventually going to dislocate his elbow trying to pat himself on the back. Mike says it should take no longer than two days to build a beer pong table, while the graphic on the screen reminds us that the guys have now been working on this table for twenty-three days. Earl's playing PlayStation while the other guys stand around staring at the half-assed table like guys waiting their turn on a videotaped gang bang. Some brother named Brian says that the beer pong table won't get made until the pledges all come together as a group. Huh? Here's a news flash, Brian: it's a fucking table, dude. Hell, it's hardly even a table: it's a door on four legs with some badly painted Sigma Chi Omega letters on it. It's not world peace. It's not something people have to "come together" to build unless it takes more than one guy to hammer four nails into an old door. It doesn't teach the pledges anything other than that to be in a fraternity, you're going to have to swallow a lot of shit, but once you get accepted, you can turn around and give the next pledge class a lot of shit to swallow. Basically, it teaches pledges the art of abusing people, which must fill their future wives with glee.