Yes, it's Duke-North Carolina day again—have you heard? It's the greatest rivalry in sports!—and that means it's time for more tales of sad college students and their miserable shame-filled lives.
The basketball rivalry between these two schools is as heated as it gets, but actually getting into one of their games is a lesson in humility and suffering. Of course, we all know about Krzyzewskiville, the place where college students pay $37,000 a year to skip class and live in a tent. (And catch bacterial meningitis. Nice.) But that's not enough for Tar Heel fans. Chapel Hill tickets are distributed by lottery and there are only about 5,500 available for about 18,000 interested students, so most kids come up empty. That's where "What Would You Do for Duke Tickets?" comes in.
A select group of underclassman can be awarded seats at the game. All they have to do is come up with the most humiliating, degrading, and disgusting Gong Show-like stunts and if their pathetic demonstration pleases the right people, they are allowed entry. I hope you like the taste of vomit!
My first experience while judging my sophomore year was with a group known as "The Campers". Without knowing what was to happen, the men pulled out a butane burner and a frying pan. One student watched as the other consumed eggs, milk, mushrooms, peppers, onions, and ham. He jumped around in a frenzy, the[n]regurgitated his food into the pan. It was cooked to a crisp and consumed by his friend.
Last year's winner went around the regurgitation rule by letting the audience get in on some action. Dawning Speedos and gawking in their bird costumes, the students danced around while handing ladies hand fulls of gummy worms. Like chicks begging for food, the perched below them as they begged the girls to regurgitate the worms back into their mouths.
Are you noticing a pattern here?
These were the men that suggested eating live trout in their first application. After that was nixed, the men vowed to make crotch milkshakes for each other. Although none of this happened, they still beat the track players who chugged a blend of raw fish, clam juice, Cheez Whiz, Pedigree wet dog food, raw eggs and tobacco dip spit.
One year, three students wearing shirts that read "The Masticator," "The Condiment," and "I Swallow," performed for the hundreds who were watching....
Okay, that's enough. I think we get the idea.