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The end of summer sat in fullness over the green grass and myriad buildings in Bowling Green, Kentucky. At Western Kentucky University, the air was heavy with heat and humidity thanks to a recent rain. It was thus that Misha found it as he stepped out of the taxi, taking a moment to look about at his new, temporary home while the driver helpfully unloaded his bags from the trunk. Misha touched the Star of David on the chain around his neck and smiled broadly at the well-kept grounds.

"That'll be $25.50," said the driver, a rough looking piebald horse wearing a cap that had the words 'I'm with Smith & Wesson Security' upon it.

"Here you are," said Misha in a florid Russian accent, handing the driver a 20 and a 10, "and please keep the rest for yourself."

The driver tipped his hat, just a touch to the bill really, and hopped back in his cab and drove off. Misha spared one more smile before lifting his bags and making his way toward the dormitories. He had come here, to America, again to learn of new and impressive things. Though he was fond of Russia, despite its shortcomings, he always welcomed the chance to study abroad. Here he would study western history and a host of other things and work on his cultural understanding of this diverse and varied nation.

As he passed through the busy campus he noticed quickly how many other species were present that just hadn't been available at the last place he had stayed when he had come to America for a foreign exchange program. His friends, Nip and Tuck Todd, would likely find it quite ordinary now that one was a famous stuntman and movie star and the other tended to get many travel perks because of this. He would have to send them a letter or something, telling them that he was back in the States, even if it was a considerable distance.

Nip and Tuck had been red foxes, like himself, and he had met an opossum, a few pigs, and a decent host of others, not least of which were the stunning girls at Pop's. But here were every sort of species he could imagine. Birds, lizards, and mammals of every description bustled about campus searching out their dorms and attending the various welcoming events. Tents were attended by many students, some with purposes such as the current political hot-points or religious conversion and some with light-hearted activities offered.

Misha made his way past the booths and tables, trying not to let his eyes linger long enough to be accosted. Try though he might to simply walk through the crowd; pamphlets were pushed, questions about his views were asked, and other people couldn't help but jostle him. Inwardly wishing that he could allow himself to be more callous, he fought his way through to the end of the crowd and stole a glance over his shoulder at the bustle.

THUD!

Where did that wall come from?! Misha suddenly found himself sitting, rather than standing, in the path he'd been walking upon. Somehow an obstacle had sprung up in his path as he looked back. Now there was a helping hand coming down. Someone had seen his accident and now they just wanted to help. His new friend in this strange new place was here to greet him and help him up. Smiling, he took the proffered hand.

The face at the other end was kind, if rather gruff. Large, pale, porcine features stood in contrast with the fellow's rather beady eyes. Still he was tall, wide, and at least had a look of amused acceptance, if not intelligence, about him. His tusks were much smaller than Misha was used to, making his face seem almost... cute. No, that was not how American males liked to think of themselves.

"Spasibo," Misha said automatically as he regained his feet, "I mean..."

"Spice Zebra?" chuckled the pig to himself, "you musta hit me harder than I thought."

"Oh, no, I am sorry," Misha corrected himself, embarrassed at his slip and the way this fellow had repeated it, "It is Russian. You would say 'thank you' instead."

"Well dang, I never knew any Russian," he said jovially, "Well, my name's Bernie, but most folks 'round here call me 'Big B' or just 'bro' y'know. I'm guessing with all the bags an' the Russian, you must be new 'round here."

Big B was a most accurate name, Misha considered, as this 'Bernie' had to be well over six feet tall and almost twice as wide as Misha's skinny frame. He might easily weigh close to four hundred pounds, Misha guessed, but where many pigs that weight might be rotund, Bernie was a solid slab of rippling muscle. This was obvious through the veneer of the muscle-tee that seemed more like it had been sprayed on than pulled over his head. Three Greek letters, Eta Alpha Mu, colored the otherwise grey shirt in blazing yellow-orange.

"I... I ran into you?! Many apologies, I thought I must have hit a wall or something!" Misha blurted.

Bernie laughed in a high, light voice at odds with his body. From previous encounters with the 'jock type' he had expected the low, thoughtless huh huh huh sort of laugh from this one.

"Yep. Didn't hurt though." He replied causally, "though I gotta say. I saw you dodge that crowd man. You play any sports? Disc? Track? Rugby?"

"Eh, no, not really," admitted Misha, "I am here for exchange program. I am studying Western History and Languages. I am thinking to become Teacher eventually."

Bernie nodded, falling into step beside Misha as he made his way toward the dorms. "If ya'll want, I could introduce you to a few of my friends. I'll bet you'd be good at a few things over at the sports complex. Besides, you can't do nothin' but study all day. Ya gotta get out there. You ain't gonna get cut, get the chicks, or learn confidence if you don't get out there. You should stop by the complex some time and try out."

It seemed like an all-of-a-sudden thing, a pamphlet was pressed into Misha's hand. The next instant, Bernie was gone again as quickly as he had come. The Greek letters stood out on the cover once again and a dozen small photos of athletic, active people enjoying recreation and working out. It was typical... but somehow Misha was certain he wanted to know more. The pig may have been soft-spoken and built like a brick wall, but somehow his words had resonated.

***

Misha wiped his brow a he slumped down onto his dorm-room bed. Everything was unpacked and stowed, but for a moment the young fox considered exactly why he had to bring just so many things with him. He had arrived to find the few things he was unable to take on the flight already delivered. Arranging and setting everything up had taken far longer than he'd liked. Though now things were finally looking like they should.

The dorm was built and furnished to accommodate two, though Misha had yet to see any sign of his roommate. He wasn't even aware what this one's name was. It could be anyone, from the most reclusive dormouse to the loudest, most raucous rhinoceros. Whatever he would be, Misha decided not to dwell on the consideration. Whatever would be, would be.

Dinner was a busy affair. Students from all over campus bustled about the Student Center building's dining areas making it seem far too crowded for Misha's liking. Soon enough, though, he had found an acceptable meal and returned to his room...

...to find the place a horrible mess! Junk seemed to be everywhere, like a dozen suitcases had exploded! Posters had seemingly plastered themselves haphazardly around the room showing lewd pin-ups, hot rods, 'edgy' band symbols, and illicit substances. Clothes were tossed onto almost every surface where his things were absent; a computer sat on the desk with underclothes draped over it. Baubles and knickknacks took up the remaining space in the room creating a veritable minefield for whomever he would share this space with.

All that remained unsullied was Misha's bed, desk, and wardrobe which seemed much less spacious with the burgeoning mess set like some contaminated boundary around it. Whoever had done this had unpacked in a hurry like some mad whirlwind! This place was nothing short of a...

"HEY Brah!" called a voice behind Misha, "You my new roomie?!"

A rather chunky looking boar trundled down the hallway, smiling widely and waving to Misha as he went. His grey shirt seemed to have no sleeves... and almost no sides... to it, sporting the words 'I Work My Ass Off So I Can Kick Yours' plastered upon it in glaring yellow-orange. Over his shoulder was an acid-green gym-bag that could only contain more of the mess Misha had already seen. Without waiting for a reply, the boar stepped right up to Misha, firmly within his comfortable 'personal space', and thrust out a dark-skinned hand toward him.

"Name's K.C." the boar introduced as he squeezed Misha's hand just a little too tight in his own calloused grip, "I see ya already set up. Listen we gonna have us a damn good time here brah! This room's gonna _rock_with us in it!"

"M-Misha," squeaked the dumbfounded fox, "I am..."

"You ain't from 'round here are ya brah?" K.C. interjected with his curious mix of Kentucky and 'Bro-ski' accents, "Where you from? Come on! Let's get us settled in!"

Misha had barely enough time to say 'Russia' before he was manhandled inside.

K.C., short for 'Kennedy Clarke' as Misha learned, was Sports and Health major in his third year. He was also a bombastic, messy, self-centered, gym-freak with no sense of personal space and no clue that others might not like things that he did. Though he kept to his side of the room as they talked... or rather as he talked and occasionally accepted answers from Misha... Misha still felt like his personal space was being actively invaded. It was the way K.C. spoke, gestured, and worse, flung his gym clothes about, that made it seem this way. Misha was generally shy by nature and nothing K.C. was doing helped at all.

"But yeah," K.C. droned on, "I may not be here long anyways. If everything goes right, you'll have this place to yourself. I'm gettin' in to Eta Alpha Mu this time and then it only up from there! I've even got my eye on some of them Chi Nu chicks too! Hotties y'know what I mean brah?"

A wave of relief crept over Misha. Though he was always taught to be slow to anger and quick to forgive, he was having a very difficult time keeping his patience with this one. Knowing that he might soon be free of him was comforting.

And without warning K.C. began to strip right in front of him. The shirt came off to reveal his dark skinned chest which was both fatty and obviously densely muscled. Try though he might Misha could only stare in shock at the disregard for any sort of modesty.

"See somethin' ya like brah?" K.C. questioned pointedly, wiggling his pectorals.

"I... I am meaning... what are you doing?!" he gasped.

"Dude, gotta get ready," K.C. replied as if Misha should already know his itinerary, "Party starts in 30."

"Party?" Misha wondered aloud, glancing at the clock which read 8:30, "What party?"

"DUDE, seriously? Welcome back party? Ain't you goin'?"

"I am not being welcomed back," Misha replied, still confused.

"You gotta come man! You'kin be my wingman!" K.C. exclaimed as he finished yanking up a pair of basketball shorts and took to a bottle of some greasy gel, "Chicks dig guys with accents! You'd get us both some action brah!"

Misha watched as K.C. tried to spike his already coarse, bristly black hair while continuing to harangue and coerce him into joining. And without knowing quite how or why...

***

The music was pounding, the crowd was thick, and beer was in the air. Misha glanced around nervously as he followed the black muscle-tee that was now stretched over K.C. as he waded into the party. What had ever made him agree to this, he didn't know.

Suddenly he was through. The crowd had broken open as K.C. pushed into a wide room from the hallway. The room was still lined with people, all in chairs or dancing in the floor, but Misha felt almost immediately better by the fact that he could actually see patches of wall and floor through the throng. Some were dancing, some were sitting lewdly in occupied chairs, and some were talking in little groups; but here there were the women.

"Chi Nu's got some damn hotties, huh Mishy," K.C. yelled with no expectation of an answer, "I'm gonna get us some beers, you start scopin' the room!"

And just like that, Misha was alone. Alone in a room full of strangers. A slow anger brewed in his gut as he thought how he'd been swindled into this. K.C. had no regard for the feelings of others or anything at all save for himself! Misha wondered how in the world he could have ever ended up with such a crass person! Certainly there was some reasonable limits to this sort of thing.

Desperate for an exit, Misha glanced around. Everywhere he looked were more and more cavorting people, somehow able to enjoy all of this despite the noise and crowding. Everywhere he turned his head he saw fur and clothes and... pink...?

The reality dawned upon him as he realized that almost every female in this place was wearing a tight, short pink shirt. The Greek letters Chi, Ni, and Tau were emblazoned over the chests of each in gold. His eyes fell on a cluster of them, standing by a window and talking like they were alone outside. The girls at Pop's had been exceptionally beautiful, but these...

"Found us a good ol' gaggle huh!" yelled K.C.'s voice from right beside his ear, "Damn purty ones brah!"

A plastic cup was shoved into Misha's hand as he was led over to the gaggle he'd been staring at. K.C. jumped in at once.

"How ya'll been doin' t'night," he started, oozing confidence, "I'm K.C. and this here's my new bro Mish'. He's just got in from Russia and I'm showin' him around and helpin' him meet all the best new people."

***

Misha flopped face-first onto his bed. He didn't care at all what he was wearing or what he smelled like. He was embarrassed, exhausted, and completely emotionally drained! K.C. had put him through a gauntlet of set-ups, rejections, and nervous stuttering, all designed to let HIM have the pick of the women! Humiliated was too soft a word.

Despite his fatigue, Misha found that his mind was too full of noise to get to sleep. He'd been fawned over, yes, but the Chi Nu women had been terrible people! They were the perfect match for K.C.; high and mighty, condescending, and totally self-obsessed. They had treated him like some toy or curio with never a question regarding Misha personally.

Luckily, classes did not begin for another two days. Misha couldn't imagine trying to do this before he needed to be awake and alert. This notion was emphasized doubly-so when K.C. burst into the room singing, drunkenly and poorly, some song from the party. Misha could hear him stripping off his clothes and making far more noise than necessary.

"Wooo YEAH! Got me some play brah!" he cried out right before Misha heard a spring-squealing crash that told him K.C. had passed out onto his bed.

Misha had just managed to find a comfortable position and drift off when K.C. began snoring.

***

The image in the mirror dashed water into its face just a Misha felt the shock of coldness from his own splash. Again and again he did it before staring long and hard into the face before him. Reddened eyes stared out from his head, reflecting the trials and lack of sleep he'd endured since Friday night. Here it was, Monday, and he felt as though he'd stayed up through the whole weekend.

"Bozhe moi," he sighed at his reflection, "How am I ever going to make it through this?"

The classes passed in a blur that morning and, being mostly a review and a syllabus, weren't really much bother. Thanks to his sleepless mind-haze all the details seemed to meld together so that when he returned to the wreck of his room he felt as though it might have been better had he not even gone. But instructors were strict about attendance on the first day and often had policies that those not present would be considered 'dropped' should any other students wish to get into a full class.

His head hit the pillow, but his frazzled mind barely registered the impact. Sleep came quickly, but it felt like only an instant later that he was awoken by the slam of his door.

"Oh damn, brah! I didn't know you were asleep!" K.C. said far too loudly, "Man, I hate first day classes. They're always so freakin' dull."

The clock on the desk seemed to almost mockingly inform Misha that he'd been able to rest for all of an hour... none of which had actually felt like rest. Bleary-eyed he sat up and replaced his glasses. A yawn stretched his mouth as he stretched the few kinks that his impromptu nap had caused.

"Dude, you ok?" K.C. asked in an almost concerned voice.

"Dah," Misha said groggily, "Did not sleep well."

"Well dude! Try this! It'll get ya goin' again brah." K.C. exclaimed, slapping a large, cold can into Misha's hand.

Without knowing exactly why, Misha popped open the red-and-blue can of Demon Freak© energy and guzzled the lot. He'd often heard of these sorts of drinks and, figuring that they must be similar to coffee, was aching for alertness. The taste was something not quite sweet, rather cloying, and uniquely horrible. It reminded him of the vitamins his mother had given him when he was young plus an American candy called 'Smarties'.

***

Sweat poured, breath came in gasps, and every muscle felt like water. Misha felt like he was going to die. For a while he simply stood, bent over with hands on knees, and breathed. Battling with exhaustion, his mind was a blur of half-formed thoughts. What had ever possessed him to work out this hard...

"How ya feelin' brah?" K.C. said nonchalantly, jogging up beside him.

Oh yes, he thought, that. The drink that K.C. had given him had wired his body and brain like nothing he could remember in his life. After just twenty minutes he'd been practically climbing the walls of the dorm room with his energy. It was then that K.C. suggested that he burn some of it off at the gym. Though Misha wasn't really much of a gym junkie, this had seemed like a terrific idea at the time.

With a heaved sigh, he nodded to K.C. and dragged himself toward the showers. As he passed by the locker area he noticed that by some sort of idiocy in design, all the lockers were out in the hallway while the showers were further inside the bathrooms. It also occurred to him then that he hadn't even brought any clothes with which to change or even a towel. His energy-drink fueled workout had been spontaneous and completely unplanned. Another deeply heaved sigh of frustration sprung from his throat as he realized K.C. had abandoned him entirely.

Resigned to this, Misha turned to make his way out of the gym despite the huge sweat stains and his matted fur. He trudged not two steps before a near-collision caused him to jump in surprise. There, in front of him, was an equally surprised-looking young woman. His eyes took in her tight tee-shirt emblazoned with the symbols Chi Nu Tau, the camera hanging from her neck down to her stomach, the shocked expression on her face, and her womanly features in an appraising glance. She was a blonde haired feline of some sort, with slightly darker tan bodyfur, though Misha only took a passing notice of that as his eyes were drawn to her peridot green ones.

The Chi Nu calmed back down and then, to Misha's continued surprise, seemed to recognize him!

"Oh Heeeeyyy," the Chi Nu said in an extremely odd, forced mix of California and Kentucky accents, "You're that guy I met at the party! K.C.'s friend right?! The feller from Russia am-i-rite?"

Misha wracked his brain. That night had been a beer-smelling, crowded, annoying fog! How could he remember someone when he hadn't talked to anybody for more than a couple minutes?! But as he considered, the thought occurred how could she remember him?! She couldn't have seen him for more than a few moments! She was attractive to boot, and doubtless K.C. had been laying on his 'charm' with a trowel.

"I am very sorry," Misha spluttered apologetically, "I am so bad at names."

"Mandy," the Chi Nu replied, far too peppily not to be hiding disappointment, "But that's okay. I was, like, just coming down here to get shots of the jocks for the blog. Y'know, keep the views up."

"Ah, well," Misha said, grateful of the new topic, "I am sure you are quite good at pictures. It must be quite challenging to capture people in motion."

She looked at him slyly, "You know, why don't I get one of you? I could do a multicultural thing!"

Misha had just started to form a polite decline when a big, meaty arm wrapped around his shoulders. His eyes went wide at the unexpected grab and his body went stiff with shock. The grip was powerful, like a constrictor snake had decided to snare him and crush him for dinner.

"I'm so glad you made it buddy!" said an unusually high voice to belong to anyone so large, "gettin' your strong on! Russian Rumbler this one! Oh, hey Mandy!"

"Heeeey Big B," Mandy replied appreciatively, "Um... he's like, turning purple."

Misha gasped as Bernie released him, feeling his own weight suddenly back on his feet. His fatigue reminded him of the rigors of his impromptu workout and how much he wanted to go lay down. But even as Bernie and Mandy droned on about some nonsensical topics, things managed to get worse.

"Big B! Hey brah! I see ya met my roommate Mish'! Heeeey Mandy," K.C.'s voice pierced their white-noise conversation, making Misha's spine straighten in worry.

"Yeah man, this guy can run you down like a freakin' steamroller!" Big B boasted of Misha, slapping him across the shoulder with a gentle blow that, had K.C. not sidled up at that moment, would have pitched Misha to the other side of the hall.

"I know! Lemme get a picture of all three of you!" Mandy said.

Crushed again Misha tried to look not-tortured as the flash from Mandy's camera blinded him.

***

"Bozhe moi," Misha groaned as he looked at the copy of 'Co-Ed Chronicle' K.C. had tossed him before rushing back out the door. Upon the cover was a glossy, full-page photo of himself crushed between the two pigs. Bernie and K.C. were too busy smiling and posing for the camera to have notices the smushed red sweat-stained puff of fur that had been Misha as he desperately tried to look presentable. Worst yet, it was impossible NOT to notice him between the dark, almost-black of K.C. and the contrasting pale-pink of Big B.

He looked as miserable as he remembered feeling. And to top it all off, in big bold letters the headline for the cover read: Eta Kappa Embraces Foreign Friends!

His head met the desk with a thump as he exhaled his exasperation. It had been just a week for that photo to be run with an entire article written, as it said plainly, by Mandy herself. A quick scan of the contents had been enough to make him quit reading in disgust. It seemed that despite her peppy exterior and general flattery, Mandy had the capacity for a scathing pen. Her words hadn't been directly insulting, callous, sarcastic, or mean but something about the way she phrased things and brought sentences together made Misha certain that he wanted nothing to do with her bad side.

At least the week leading up to this newest disaster had been relatively better. K.C.'s and his class schedules were blessedly conflicting, allowing for plenty of alone time up until just after dinner hours. Thanks to a wise purchase of earplugs and a sleeping mask, Misha had even been able to sleep fairly regularly. And despite the initial disaster, he'd been able to go to the gym for a more normal workout that happily avoided Mandy, K.C., and Bernie as well as further embarrassment.

The weekend had gone even more smoothly as K.C. left Friday to visit family and returned Saturday night just long enough to inform Misha that he was headed to an Eta Alpha Mu initiation event and would be gone all of Sunday. This left Misha with an abundance of sweet, free time with which to rest, study, and detail all the craziness of his first week in a letter back home. Now, with this newest development he wondered how different next week's letter would sound.

Still, Misha was able to shut out the greater part of his worries with a bit of reason. No one with any sort of attention-span really read those rags anyways. He had just settled back to relax when his quiet solitude was once again shattered by K.C. banging the door in, hooting and whooping.

"Hawt damn!" he hollered, "I'm a Eta Alpha pledge! YEEEAH! Don't that kick a lil' ass?!"

Feigning excitement and inwardly hoping that this would mean even more time free from K.C., Misha added his congratulations to the noise. Of course his words lent no help to his situation as K.C. once again began stripping his clothes off and making ready to change.

"Brah! Ya gotta come with me! Grab yer trunks and a towel, we're gonna hit the pool!"

"The... the pool?!" Misha asked with a sinking feeling in his guts, staring flatly at his desk to avoid seeing K.C.'s bare butt once again, "We are going swimming?"

"Oh duuuude," K.C. said pointedly, "we might get in a lap or two, but trust me the Chi Nu swim team meets today! You gotta be there brah! That water's gonna be two degree's from boilin' t'day!"

"Well, I mean... I don't um..." Misha stuttered before blurting, "I have no swimming trunks!"

***

The Chi Nu 'swim team' was not a competitive organization as things turned out. Instead, it was simply the time where many of the sorority girls got together in skimpy bathing suits and took over the Aquatic Center. It also happened that the Eta Alpha Mu's and many other males from around campus turned out in droves for the event and to hang out in the 'free swim' areas. Those not leering were being generally raucous and playful

Misha could only imagine what color his cheeks were. His skin was likely as red as his fur. Dozens and dozens of fine female figures splashed and cavorted in the huge Olympic-sized pools normally reserved for serious athletic training. Some of the girls swam laps properly, but most were simply enjoying themselves and showing off. Eta Alpha males, almost all of them porcine from what Misha could tell, busied themselves with catcalls, hoots, and general lewd staring.

And here he was, standing in a tightly-drawstringed and far-too-large pair of swim trunks, staring in awe and embarrassment at the panorama.

K.C. wasted no time in joining his soon-to-be brethren, leaving Misha on his own at the end of the long pools. So much for always being 'wingman,' Misha thought sourly as he considered what to do next. For a minute, no amount of willpower could make his feet move nor his gaze shift. His concentrated amazement was broken as a figure exited the pool and pulled herself up onto the deck in one fluid motion.

It took a second to recognize who it was that emerged. She was wearing a gold-colored swim-cap that covered her hair and a one-piece blue swimsuit with gold letters, Chi Nu Tau, placed most alluringly across the tight chest. The co-ed opened a pair of brilliant green eyes and looked right at Misha, drawing a hand over the cap to reveal her long flowing blonde hair.

"Mandy?!" Misha half-yelped. It was surprise at seeing her, though he knew he should have expected it, and further surprise at his realization that she wasn't feline at all! She was an otter!

"Heeey there Misha!" she said in a much cheerier voice than a week ago, "Plannin' ta fill out them trunks?"

How could his face have blushed more?!

"They... they are a, how you say, 'loaner' from K.C. as I did not have any," he said, trying to keep his tone as casual as he could.

"I've always like the tighter... shorts," she replied in a voice that was nothing if not suggestive, "Maybe I could help find you a new pair sometime?"

His heart fluttered wildly within him. Was she really suggesting this? Did she really mean it?

"Mishy! Mandy! Yo!" the baritone voice of Bernie cut through the tension of the moment.

The huge hog moved up to Mandy, sliding an arm around her in a most familiar fashion. Mandy's attitude turned immediately from flirtatious to attentive as she gazed up at Bernie. Clued in to the context, Misha tried to will the blush in his cheeks away. If Bernie and Mandy were involved then he wanted NOTHING to do with her! Still, it may just have been his imagination, but for just a moment he could have sworn that he saw daggers in the eyes of Bernie's normally peaceful face.

"You'd probably better get in there while the water's still wet Mishy," Bernie said with an unmistakable edge of ice in his voice, "Me and Mandy have gotta talk about a little mixer we're planning for later. Also, we gotta talk inductees. Gotta, y'know, pick our targets."

The pair walked off leaving Misha standing alone, chills running down his spine. Did he just imagine that? Was Bernie involved with Mandy, and was he really the jealous type? Moreover, did Mandy know about any of this?

Trudging across the deck of the pool-house, Misha pondered what significance any of this had. By the time he had joined K.C. in the aqua-robics pool where the rest of the males cavorted he'd determined to forget the whole thing and simply try to enjoy himself. Despite the jostling of the jockish men, he found himself actually succeeding and by the time the girls departed and the guys hit the showers he had forgotten all about it.

***

Another week had passed, this time much more smoothly. Misha had found his groove and by Wednesday was tearing through the relatively easy homework and chapters. Somehow he'd managed to avoid all the 'trouble friends' he seemed to have made in such a short time and life was getting good. He'd even found a group of study-mates that were as interested in the classes as he. By Friday they were even talking of regular meetings and even outings.

Friday night had been peaceful, as K.C. had told him that very morning that he was attending an Eta Alpha function that would test him for admittance. It was intended to be a grueling ordeal that would last the entire weekend without a break. Misha could not have been happier at this news if he had been told that his birthday was coming early on top of it. A whole weekend to himself! Of course he tried to contain his joy, funneling it instead into feigned excitement for K.C.'s trial.

Sunday's letter to his family was cheerful and detailed, glazing over the long forgotten disaster of the events at the pool just a week ago. Rereading the letter put him in an even better mood as his remembrances took on the falsified glow of his own words. Glancing at the clock he saw that it was still rather early in the afternoon. Beyond study and classes, he'd done everything he needed to do that week! Without K.C., it seemed, he was quite efficient!

Bubbling with his suddenly unburdened life, Misha decided to run his letter to the campus mail and take advantage of the warm, sunny day. Though he knew his mail wouldn't even go out until the next day, it really didn't matter. It was just the excuse he needed to get out and enjoy the day.

Students bustled through the yards and walkways. Many were heading toward the many eateries while still more made their way to and from the athletic centers or activities. Here and there were booths set up in favor of some topic or denouncing some other. Luckily there were just few enough to keep it from feeling crowded. As it was Sunday, almost no one went toward the campus post office leaving Misha to stroll easily to the boxes to deposit his letter.

He cast out a few smiles, beaming with satisfaction as he noticed a few of the fairer looking females and noticing a fair few smiled back. Some he even recognized as belonging to Chi Nu, even without their trademark tight shirts. In fact... there were quite a lot of fraternity and sorority people out this day. This fact, once sunk in, made him pause and confirm the observation. Hadn't K.C. mentioned something about the initiate ordeals?

"YOINK!" came a shout that caused Misha to jump in shock. Someone had rushed on him from behind and, before he could do more than yelp, had yanked his pants down to his ankles.

Too shocked to look for his assailant, Misha was left standing stock-straight and wide eyed in shock. The world was white-noise silent for an instant. Misha's poor brain was unable to cope with what had just happened.

And then he heard the laughter. Dozens and dozens of voices all spilling out their mirth at the scene of his humiliation. Some were even pointing and laughing! Heat welled up in Misha and, for the first time since he was much younger, he even felt on the verge of tears. Worse yet, no one was helping! Glancing around, he was sure that the majority of those that hadn't turned away belonged to none other than the girls of Chi Nu Tau.

In a desperate effort to quit the scene, he bent down and hurriedly yanked up his pants, holding them closed with his hand, and ran as fast as he could back to his dorm-room. As soon as his mind cleared enough for it, he could think only one simple thing to make it anything like better. Thank God he'd worn underwear.

***

Monday. Misha lay awake for an hour before his alarm was due to go off. Staring at the ceiling provided an off-white screen for the video playing through his head. How had things gone so terribly wrong? When had things turned for the worse? Who would actually DO such a thing?!

And now he had to face the day, knowing that dozens and dozens of people had seen him standing there, pants around ankles, the sudden center of attention. He had classes to attend, a workout with his study-group mates, and a sure stack of homework to attend to, and all anyone he passed would think of was him standing in his underwear. Worse, he had no idea where K.C. had gotten off to. Normally this would have been a good thing, but the hog's propensity to burst in unannounced in the evenings and drag him off to some event weighted heavily on his mind.

Three minutes before the alarm, Misha reset the clock. With a grunt of effort he heaved himself out of bed and sat on the edge, head in hands, gathering himself. Was this sort of thing going to just keep happening? Could he stand this sort of thing going on for the whole semester? Who could be behind this sort of thing? WHY did it have to keep happening around women?!

Running on auto-pilot, he rose and dressed, packed and groomed, and made his way out toward classes. This day his belt was on, and tight. Almost in a haze he went through his first two classes, finally breaking out as he met his new study-friends during lunch. By the end of the meal he was even joking about his unfortunate encounter. When he'd heard that some of his friends had similarly odd, if not as tragic, happenings during their weekends, he even stopped worrying so much.

Deanna, a skinny roan mare who majored in anthropology, moved the conversation on toward a different topic. She was trying out for the track team and needed to hit the gym. Though Misha had reservations, he felt that this time would be safe since he would be with friends. Having agreed and spirits lifted, the remainder of his day went rather well. He even managed to rip through his homework before heading back to the dorm room.

Back in the room, he found K.C. face-down on his own bed, snoring as loud as he'd ever done. He'd apparently fallen directly onto the bed as he hadn't even bothered to remove his shoes. Misha silently gathered his gym-clothes and slipped back out, only pausing to notice the bright red smear of lipstick on K.C.'s face and the bright pink rouge upon his cheek. Perhaps being pantsed in public wasn't the worst thing that could happen after all...

The gym was blessedly empty as Misha, Deanna, and friends commenced their workouts. For all her training, Deanna was courteous and encouraging as her friends followed her routine. She didn't chastise any of the others for being behind her in ability. In fact, she seemed to have an innate knack for setting just the right pace to keep them all going.

For the first time since he'd come to Kentucky, Misha felt comfortable in the gym. After K.C., Bernie, Mandy, and all the rest of the frat boys and sorority girls, it was refreshing to be without them. He'd even managed to find a groove and have some fun. A happy tune was humming in his throat as he made his way back toward the locker room.

And there she was. Like a doom-cloud rolling over the horizon on a perfect day. Mandy. Who else could it have been? His day had been going far, far too well for Mandy to NOT have been there.

His head whipped back and forth, frantically checking to see that Big B was not about. The last thing he needed was the massive porker making inferences about the imagined relationship that he didn't even want! Luckily he was nowhere to be seen, a fact that Misha had only just confirmed as Mandy slithered up beside him.

"How ya been Misha?" she asked silkily, in a way too close for modesty, "anything going on tonight?"

"I... eh... I am here with some friends tonight." He admitted shyly, worried that something was going to go wrong, "about to go and change. Otherwise no plans really."

"Well... I know that while the Eta Alphas are busy with their hell-week, we Chi Nu's are left a bit on the low side with our invitations to tonight's Swim Team. I though..." she slipped something into his hand, "That maybe you'd like to come by. We all hope to see you there. Don't disappoint us. Oh... and make sure you bring your trunks."

With that she slipped away, leaving Misha staring at the slip of paper in his hand. A stirring of emotions welled within him. Despite the fact that so many of the sorority girls seemed self-centered or worse, they were exceptionally pretty and he was a man. And on top of things, no or few Eta Alphas to ruin things! While he had no interest in Mandy, perhaps he would have a chance to interest one of the nicer ones.

"Ugh, Chi Nu's are always such bitches." Snapped Deanna from over Misha's shoulder, causing him to jump in surprise, "They always act like if you're athletic, you need to belong with them. They're all so shallow."

Misha whirled to face his friend.

"Word of advice Mish," Deanna said calmly, putting a hand on his shoulder and wearing a patient look, "Don't get mixed up in that. They play their games and just chew up nice guys like you."

"I... I wasn't,"

"Don't be embarrassed," she said gently, "I'm just saying be careful. Hell, even I've gotta admit there are some hot girls in there. But don't let their beauty blind you. I'm not going to judge you. I'm just concerned. Anyway, I've gotta go."

And with that, Deanna jogged away.

***

This evening's installment of the Chi Nu Swim Team was held at a more private, outdoor pool attached to the main sorority residence rather than in the Aquatic Center. Two tables lined with snacks and drinks sat near the pool house, the late afternoon sun glittered on the water, and for once the number of females was actually greater than the males.

Needless to say Misha felt quite nervous. Ever since he had showed up, Chi Nus had been acting something between flirtatious and mocking to him. He suspected that the mockery was because K.C.'s loaner-trunks made him look like one of the magical brooms from that Disney movie. But like sirens the girls beckoned him in to the pool and soon enough he was splashing and cavorting with all the rest.

Games of general splashing, Marco Polo, Water Frisbee, and Chicken Fight were common, and it did not go unnoticed how many times Misha found himself with a pair of fine feminine legs upon his shoulders or how often his hands would brush the slick material of a swimsuit or wet fur. And despite Deanna's warning squeaking in the back of his mind, nothing unwholesome or 'bitchy' about the situation. It almost seemed as though once he let himself go and stop worrying about appearances and tales that everything turned easy-going and fun.

As the sun disappeared and the lights came on, the crowd thinned noticeably. The sorority girls still played, but many of the males left. Soon the ratio was considerably higher and some of the girls left to balance things out. Games turned into treading water or sitting and talking as the energy died down. Misha enjoyed the casual nature of things and was quite happy to sit and talk a while.

Then, as the party thinned even further a veil of nervousness fell around Misha. He'd had a few light, possibly shallow, conversations so far but with all the others around it had been hard to think anyone was paying him any attention. But as the night winded down he found himself limited to a few. And one of those few, the persistent one, was Mandy. She was graceful in the water, but very penetrating in her conversation.

Misha was feeling rather uncomfortable by this time. While normally he didn't have much trouble with just talking, Mandy had moved on into some rather personal... and intimate... sorts of questions. Most concerning, she didn't mention Bernie and her relationship at all! To be polite, Misha didn't press the issue, even as Mandy let a hand rest upon his knee.

Across the pool, a few of the frat-boys were starting an impromptu diving contest. Seeing this as a way out, Misha casually excused himself and made his way to the end of the pool. A short queue preceded him as he stepped up to the back of the line, grateful for an easy break more than a desire to actually dive in again. Still, he was lithe compared to the more meaty frat-guys and was confident that he could at least make a good show of it.

Finally up to the board, Misha got on and smiled a sheepish sort of smile to the few remaining Chi Nu's at the other end. They seemed to be watching him quite closely in fact. It was the sort of thing his brain had only registered when he was already in the process of jumping. Committed to his action, however, he leapt anyway. His wet red fur and cascading tail caught the light of the spotlights all around, shimmering and sparkling with droplets and he executed a very impressive, though rather amateur, flip and twist.

Down he came, straight and true into the water. He zipped in, natural litheness lending him speed and reducing his splash. He shot off toward the shallows, making it halfway across the pool before he broke the surface. His head emerged from the muffling water to a chorus of clapping, hooting, laughing, and cheering which he immediately smiled at. It had been quite a good dive after all. He didn't bother looking behind him, since he'd been the last in the line.

But as he pulled himself out of the water, he noticed something had gone wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. Somehow, in the midst of his graceful dive, K.C.'s oversized shorts had slipped completely off! And now, as the evening air kissed his bare backside, he understood why people were laughing. His head whipped around in shock to see one of the Chi Nu's, Teresa he thought, hooting and whipping his borrowed trunks about her head like a trophy.

And there was Mandy! Mandy, making her way over to him! Presumably it was to help, but Misha could take no more! Hit tail tucked between his legs and held firm to cover himself, he bolted as a red, sopping dart into the pool house, where the safety of his clothes were. He dashed inside and slammed the door, locking it immediately before rushing to his gym bag. It was lucky that someone had the foresight to provide extra towels, or Misha would have had to soak his clothing and walk back to the dorms dripping... not that he'd have minded that just to escape.

A knocking at the door. His name was called through the door, but Misha was already slipping out the back way. That done, he bolted for his room, hoping against all hope that K.C. had woken up and decided to go out. As he neared his door he perked up his ears trying to get some fore-warning of K.C.'s perpetual loudness. But as he peeked inside, he found his room thankfully vacant.

He pulled his damp clothes off and focused on drying his fur the rest of the way. Halfway through, his nose reminded him of the chlorine he had still to wash off. A quick shower later saw him flopping upon his bed as soon as he was dry, burying his head in the pillows and wishing desperately for sleep.

***

"Oh. My. God," Deanna said without a hint of laughter in her voice, "I would have just died of embarrassment."

"I truly wished that I had," Misha deadpanned. He was nowhere near recovered from the ordeal, but he simply NEEDED to tell someone. Deanna had graciously agreed to meet him for an early breakfast and over their meal he divulged the catastrophic ending to the previous night's activity. Though Misha's plate was loaded with eggs, French toast, and cheesy grits, barely any of it was touched. On the other side, Deanna's plate stood empty with only a few smears of breakfast salad and oatmeal remaining.

"Well, it could have happened to anyone," Deanna said reassuringly, "If it wasn't for those trunks..."

"I don't feel like it could have happened to anyone," Misha replied, staring blankly into his coffee, "It always seems to happen this way. Whenever I start to feel comfortable around women, I think..."

"Hey now," Deanna chuckled, "Nothing bad has happened around me yet. If you hadn't noticed I'm a woman too."

Misha chuckled too, some of his funk finally breaking, "I really meant groups of women. So far, you don't seem to be a group."

They both shared an easy laugh.

"Don't worry so much Misha," Deanna said gently, "You're just having a run of rotten luck. It'll get better."

"Ah yes. I should think what my rabbi always said to me," Misha cleared his throat and quoted, "He that can't endure the bad, will not live to see the good."

"Now there's looking on the bright side!" Deanna said, "Sounds like you've got a wise rabbi."

Misha smiled for a moment, letting the old proverb sink in. Another one floated to the top as he did, "Who finds a faithful friend, finds a treasure."

"Well, I'm done," Deanna said, pushing away her plate, "You know what would clear your mind Misha? Come for a jog with me. I'll be sure not to become too many women on the way."

"That sounds wonderful," Misha replied with a smile upon his face. Breakfast forgotten, they rose and headed to the track.

***

Deanna and Misha talked lightly as they made their way back in to the lockers in the gym. The run had been brisk, but it had carried Misha's worries away. Deanna had been supportive and stalwart as ever and for only knowing her two weeks was definitely feeling like she would be a close friend. They went so far as the entrance before Deanna took her leave to the female locker room across the complex.

As he made his way across the gym toward the male showers, he caught out of the corner of his eye the giant form of Big B. He stood head-and-shoulders above the next closest male and wore an expression as angry as Misha could ever have imagined he's wear. He was clearly talking to someone and hadn't noticed him. Thinking this too close for comfort, Misha swiftly ducked into the shower room.

He'd never been in such a hurry to strip off and get out of there. He was down to his skivvies, hastily shoving everything into his gym-bag, praying that he could exit the premises before anything bad could happen. But even then, as if on cue, a huge sausage of a finger poked at his bare shoulder. Misha turned, wide-eyed with fear, to stare into the angriest face he'd ever seen. Big B's tiny piggy eyes were bloodshot, his face was fearsome, even more-so thanks to his jutting tusks which seemed big enough to impale his whole head.

"Just WHAT the HELL are THESE?!" he bellowed, shaking K.C.'s vacant swim trunks in a fist that made them look like a handkerchief, "and WHY have I just been given them and told that _MANDY_had them?!"

"I... I... but... Bernie!" Misha pleaded, "You can't..."

"Mandy is MY GAL! I gave you my friendship and this is how you act?! I'll learn ya to touch another man's gal!"

A yelp was all that Misha managed before Big B laid his massive hands upon him and lifted him as easily as one might a particularly noisome sack of potatoes. Misha kicked and yelled as Bernie carried him out into the gym hallway. In moments they were in front of the public lockers and Misha was being suspended from the corner of one by his underwear!

The fabric rode up on him as Bernie lowered his weight. By some miracle of cloth, the underwear didn't even tear! In moments, Misha was fully suspended by his jockies from a locker door! The furious hog stared him straight in the eyes.

"Don't you NEVER let me catch you or hear 'bout you with Mandy again! NOT NEVER! Y'hear?!" the big pig roared before letting go entirely and stomping away.

All Misha could focus on was the excruciation of having his entire weight pulling his underwear up his crack in the most intense wedgie possible. He flailed for a moment but then stopped, terrified of falling. He couldn't speak, couldn't even whimper. His breath had been stolen by the situation, his every focus on the absurdity, the insanity, and the unnatural sensation. And as so often had happened lately, his ears filled again with that horrid sound of public ridicule!

"Oh my GAWD!" rang out a painfully familiar voice, followed by the flash of a camera.

"Out of my WAY I SAID!" shouted another.

A pair of strong roan-furred arms caught Misha by the armpits as a figure burst from the crowd. Deanna had charged in to rescue him even as his unders were at their breaking point. Hastily she threw her gym-towel around him and set him on the ground.

"My god Misha!" she cried, "who did this to you?! Are you ok?"

Tears clouded Misha's vision as he gasped and struggled for any words to respond.

"Oh damn! Mishy! I didn't realize that was you at first!" Mandy's voice cut in as she pushed her way up to them. Her camera hanging loose at her neck.

Deanna's reaction was immediate; in a sudden burst of anger the mare shoved aside the intrusive otter. "Ain't you done enough? Git before I give ya a reason!"

Misha pushed away in the confusion and bolted for the door in nothing but his sundered undies and a towel.

***

Banging on the door perked Misha's ears, but no more, from the bed. He groaned and repositioned the pillow over his head.

"Misha! It's Dave! Open up we've got to talk about this man! You've been in there all day!"

"Leave me alone!" Misha shouted back, lifting his head for the first time in hours only to shout.

"Come on Mish! Open the dang door and let's talk. Deanna reckons you need to get this off yer chest!"

Misha groaned loudly and slammed his head repeatedly into the yielding fabric of the mattress. All this, and now he was going to have to dredge it all back out again! Now Dave was here to talk about it!

"Look Mish, I know it's hard, but I ain't going away until this is settled. Deanna told me it was pretty bad and you don't need to be alone in this!"

This sort of thing went on for quite a time before Misha finally gave in. With a heave he pulled himself off the bed and dragged himself to the door. Still in the towel and unders, but now covered by a sheet draped toga-style, he opened the door on his friend. David Hollow, pronounced "Haller" by the locals, stood twitching his great bushy tail behind him.

"Jeeze!" the squirrel exclaimed as he saw Misha's state, "Ain't ya changed out of that mess?"

"I haven't felt like doing anything," Misha replied flatly, stepping aside to allow his friend inside.

"Ho-lee-gawd! How can yer roommate live like this?" Dave exclaimed upon seeing the state of K.C.'s half of the room, "come to it, how can YOU live with this?"

"K.C. is a self-centered, egotistical slob," Misha admitted with no enthusiasm, "But I know he also keeps some of his poorer qualities to himself for the sake of others..."

"At least you can still joke," Dave replied with little mirth.

"How much did Deanna tell you?"

"Enough. She said you'd need a guy to talk to."

"I need a team of rabbis to talk to..."

"Well there ain't 'nough rabbis, priests, and ministers in this state t'fix this here. So it's down to us. Now, you can get dressed and we can go out or we can sit here and talk this out. Which would you prefer?"

"I am never going out that door again..."

"Well then, the next question is... pizza or Chinese?"

***

Misha was nearly feeling better when K.C. burst in on them. He was muttering incoherently, stinking of drink, and as ragged as Misha had ever seen him. His clothing was torn, and not lightly, hanging from his stout frame in tatters. His dark face was glazed like a chocolate donut. Nothing that came rolling from his mouth was anything intelligible; even if the listener were waiting for normal pig sounds.

Dave and Misha could do nothing but stare. Truly it was as a train wreck suddenly walking in. But as K.C. sat heavily upon his bed, his eyes appeared to meet Misha's. A brief wash of drunken depression played over his porcine features. For a moment it almost seemed as if he would cry.

"M'shorree Missshhhh," he slurred, "Diddnnmeentuh... getchuh... n'trubble... wwwwwffff... B... buh...errrrr..."

And then he fell backward onto his bed, gurgling and snoring. Totally insensible.

"Em... err... I reckon..." Dave started slowly, "I reckon we should turn him. Don't want him ta choke'r'nuthin... Although. I mean..."

Misha gave him a slow, raised eyebrow of concern.

"I mean... you'd get an A for the semester..."

"DAVE!" Misha shouted in shock.

"Come on," Dave chortled, "just a joke, let's flip him."

"He weighs twice both of us!" Misha cried.

"Come on, he'll be sick and choke on it."

They moved over to the bed and heaved on the snoring, snotty, prostrate form. It wasn't as bad as they'd thought and after a few minutes work, they had K.C. properly upon the bed and covered by a sheet. Still, no matter how they jostled him, they couldn't cease his constant, rumbling, snores.

"I suppose I could go out now..." Misha sighed, defeated.

***

The night out had done almost nothing to improve his mood, Misha decided as he re-entered his room. Two-thirty in the morning and he felt as horrible as he had that morning. Admittedly the chaffing had gone down and his walk was mostly back to normal, but still the events lingered. How had this all gone so wrong?! Was there any way to fix it?

And then he remembered a flash. Someone had even gone so far as to take his picture! Doubtless it'd be a sensation on the cover of the Co-Ed Chronicle, complete with a full page article written by Mandy herself on how pathetic he was... how overpowering Bernie was... how pathetic...

He sat in the dark, staring at nothing, for some unnoticed time before he realized his room had gone entirely silent. A flutter of dread filled his heart as he determined why. K.C. wasn't snoring! He might not even be breathing!

His eyes darted frantically to K.C.'s bed... to find his roommate sitting up and staring at him in the dark. His fluttering heart leapt into his throat and a sort of creepy-crawling tickled down his spine.

"Mish?" said K.C. in an almost-sober whisper, "Izzat you?"

"Are... are you... alright K.C.?"

"How did I get home?" he asked, puzzled.

"You walked, I think... I rolled you over so you wouldn't die after you fell on your bed."

"Good man," he continued blearily, "I... I gotta say... it's been buggin' me all night."

"It's ok, you should rest."

"Naw, naw brah, I gotta come clean. I told Big B 'bout yer trunks. I got em from Mandy this mornin'. She wanted me t'gettem back... I dunno what I was thinkin'. Hell week, y'know... I'm all messed up. I saw B and I told him and... I mean... I guess he jumped the wrong way on that'n. I didn't mean fer it to go too far like it did."

Misha sat in the dark, staring at K.C., taking in the confession. That was why Bernie had done such things to him? Because of the trunks? Did Bernie really think that Mandy and he were messing about behind the big pig's back?

"I told 'im... at least I think I did... 's'last thing I kin remember b'fore wakin' up here. I had't set th' record straight, brah. Yer m' wingman."

"Don't... don't worry K.C.," Misha said gently, "take a drink, get some rest. We'll talk about it in the morning."

Without any more words, K.C. did just that. And Misha followed suit right behind even as the clock shone a steady 3:43am.

***

He was late for class, but he didn't care at all. He'd email the professors after the fact. Tell them how suddenly sick he'd become. Every one of them had decent 'late work' policies and as long as stuff got handed in, there shouldn't be a problem. Besides, though he felt physically fine... mostly fine... emotionally he really was sick.

Sick.

Of.

It.

It was just three weeks into the semester. So far he had been annoyed, sleep deprived, energy-poisoned, 'wing-man'ed, bullied, pantsed, exposed, and strung up by his underwear to a gym locker. If things kept going this way, by the end of semester he'd be staked out in nothing but women's make-up while the whole university paraded past with cameras! They'd probably have a live webcam feed going back to Russia on top of all that.

Dave had done plenty to lift his spirits and K.C.'s drunken apology had been more a shocking revelation than a comfort. Now that someone had given him a reason why his behind was so sore, one might expect him to be able to move past it. It was a misunderstanding... but that knowledge didn't help a bit. He felt trapped. Trapped in his room for fear that something worse would happen should he dare leave.

His phone vibrated. Despite his earplugs, he could hear the ringtone as it was tucked under his pillow just a smushed pillow's width from his head.

He ignored it.

The phone went off again. Again Misha ignored it. He just didn't care anymore.

And then a hand was on his shoulder. Gently laid, but sudden so that he jumped all the same. Finally glancing up, Misha saw the concerned face of K.C. staring down at him with tired, bloodshot eyes. For a moment, Misha only stared at his roommate's dark, hung-over face. Slowly he reached up and pulled out his earplugs.

"Brah, you ok?" K.C. asked slowly, with actual concern in his voice, "Your phone's been ringing for like ten minutes."

"Let it ring," Misha groaned.

"Ya really should answer, brah," K.C. pressed, "It could be important."

"Maybe in a while," Misha replied.

Without anything further, K.C. suddenly sat on Misha's bed, down near his feet. He heaved a sigh, laden with guilt and headache, and put his face in his hands.

"Man..." he started, but paused a bit before continuing, "I gotta come clean with ya. I..."

"You told Bernie about my swim trunks at the Chi Nu party?" Misha interrupted, "You told me last night."

"Uh, yeah," K.C. admitted, "I didn't mean nothin' by it. He overreacted and blew his top. But I told him down for ya, brah. I don't care if it costs me my pledge, he didn't need ta do that to ya. I'll stick by ya on this'n. Ain't no way he should get worked up like that."

By this time, Misha had sat up in his bed to listen to K.C. Did he really mean what he had said? Would he really give up his shot at being an Eta Alpha Mu just because someone did an injustice to someone he thought of as a friend? Still, K.C. was acting like this was the only thing that had gone wrong. If Misha didn't tell K.C. what all had lead up to things...

"It wasn't just this thing with Bernie," Misha said slowly, "Things have just been going wrong for quite a while now and it is really getting to me. Besides what B did, I have ended up being embarrassed time and time again at this place. It makes me feel like... giving up and going home."

K.C. chuckled a bit, though the action seemed to send another wave of pain through his head.

"I heard about yer shorts comin' off at the pool," he said, "prob'ly shoulda got ya a belt or somethin'."

"It is worse than that," Misha said, "Like just last Saturday, someone ran up and took down my pants before I could see what had happened. It felt like the whole school was there. And then... I mean... the magazine cover. I am just shy sometimes I suppose."

K.C. laughed again, wincing at the pain for such vigorous motion.

"Man, I feel ya. I just went through a fraternity hell-week. Now you might think that means light-hearted hazing... but man I tell you what."

Luckily Misha knew enough about the speech of Americans from the south. Suddenly he recalled the first time Nip had ended a sentence with "I tell you what" and he had responded "what?" And so, he simply waited for K.C. to continue.

"They can get pretty vicious 'round here." K.C. continued, a distant edge in his voice as if he were recalling a long-ago memory. Suddenly he snapped out of it, "Come on man. Breakfast is on me. Then we're going to Big B and I'm gonna make sure he gives you an apology."

With that, K.C. shot up from Misha's bed and swooned. For one horrible moment, Misha even feared that the dense and heavy pig might fall back on him. But then he steadied and tottered over to the in-room sink.

"Y'might have ta give me a few though."

***

A few was more like three hours. Breakfast had become lunch instead. But in the end, K.C. was true to his word and bought Misha anything he wanted. He even insisted on Misha not under-spending on his meal. Talk during lunch was minimal and typically started and ended with K.C. and his thoughts on the fraternity. Careful not to give a dissenting view, Misha didn't have much to say anyway.

After the lunch both went over to the gym to find Big B. Luckily, he was easy to find being both taller than everyone and employed as an assistant in the gym. Though he had come in feeling bolstered by K.C.'s reassurance, the sight of the great pale pig in the skin-tight grey school t-shirt made his heart quail. This was the same man who, just two days previous, had literally hung him by his underwear in this very same gym!

But there he was, smiling and being helpful to those who asked it of him, talking cheerfully in that crazy baritone voice, and showing not a hint of malice. For a moment, Misha wondered just how deep this seemingly meat-headed jock actually went. He was surely a much more complex fellow than Misha had ever thought. The smile faded as K.C. and Misha made their way to him. But instead of any sort of anger replacing that smile, a look of regret and shame spread.

"I just want to say how truly sorry I am," Bernie said in an almost shockingly loud voice before either K.C. or Misha could speak, "I acted shamefully and I embarrassed you in front of everyone."

"It... it is..." Misha started, interjecting his much softer words into the short break Bernie took for breath.

"No," Big B cut in, "It's not alright. As an employee of this school, a student ambassador, and an Eta Alpha, I failed to uphold the standard, and I did it all for jealousy. You didn't deserve that Misha. For this, I apologize and want to make it up to you."

Misha's face was hot with blush. Rather than just apologize, Big B was making a scene. And while Misha knew that Bernie was trying to abase himself in public, it had the sure and unintentional side-effect of turning all the passersby's attentions upon HIM as well. In fact, Misha was certain that at least half of the crowd which he was trying so desperately to ignore were present to see him in nothing but briefs, hanging from a locker door. If he could shrink into a corner and disappear, Misha was certain then that he would have.

"I... I accept your apology." Misha announced, softly at first, but emboldening quickly as he realized that this would get Big B to finally shut his trap, "and look forward to making this right. I know you acted only out of emotion and I hope this can all be fixed."

Quickly and quietly, he added to himself.

"Well then..." K.C. chimed in at a normal volume, "Uh... that's settled then."

"Not quite," Big B said solemnly, "But the formal apology part is out of the way. Sorry to embarrass you again Mish, but I had t'say it out loud like. Rules yannow."

"I get it," Misha lied.

"Anyways. Man, I was way outta line. I could offer excuses of bein' tired from puttin' on hell week an' inducting new Eta Alphas, and seein' it a shock and all... but that ain't right at all. I misjudged you. I know you ain't the type to be goin' behind a guy's back. Especially not after both K.C. and Mandy set me straight."

"Well, these sorts of things happen," Misha said as calmly as he could, "and it is our ability to move past the bad times that defines us as people and lets us find happiness."

"Dang, wise one there," K.C. interjected, "Forgiveness is divine and all."

"Forgiveness maybe," Big B cut in, "But I'm gonna make this up to you Mish. I'm gonna take you out and give you the time of your life, Eta Alpha style! Also got somethin' for you, poetic justice style."

"Really, I don't..." Misha tried.

"No, no, no. We're doin' this." Big B insisted, "Me and K.C. are gonna be directly responsible for you. Tonight, HE is gonna be YOUR wingman. And me? I'm gonna be your frickin' GENIE. And I got us a plan that you're gonna just love.

***

Yes it was crowded and loud. Yes K.C. and Big B were catering to his whims for food and drink. And yes, everyone else there was an Eta Alpha including K.C. among the newly minted pledges (which he'd gushed about for half an hour straight).

But after just a few beers and a bevy of filling snacks and appetizers, Misha was feeling quite comfortable with all of it. He was being treated like the guest of honor and, though he wasn't big on the preferred topics of conversation, his presence with Big B made every guy there look upon him with just a bit more respect. The thing so many people had told through his life seemed to ring true now; it is not what you know, but who you know.

Still, the topics that the frat boys were interested in seemed quite simple. Women, they liked women, and sports seemed to be the favorites among them to no surprise from even a tipsy Misha. Still, Misha shared a few less-colorful anecdotes about his few positive experiences with women to satisfy their curiosity. He told of school in Russia and of the physical achievements he'd made, embellished of course, and all seemed to be going just fine.

K.C. didn't act terribly different, though tonight his excitement was infectious. He'd told Misha all about his trials over the last two weeks, making Misha wonder just how smart someone had to be to join a fraternity willingly. But most joyous of all, the thing that filled Misha with excitement to rival K.C.'s, was when his dark porcine friend told him that he would be moving out of the dorms and into the frat house. Misha was fit to burst with joy, but disguised it under words of congratulation.

The night wore on, though without a single visible clock in the bar, Misha just had to guess at that. His buzz wasn't in danger of running out, since Big B seemingly always had a drink ready to keep him going. Though he didn't allow himself to drink to excess, he knew better with this sort of company, Misha did let himself enjoy things. A few games of beer pong and rounds of song livened things up and time seemed to stop mattering.

Right up until Bernie started ringing on a beer bottle with a spoon.

"Alright Eta Alphas!" Big B bellowed as the room fell silent, "Tonight we've got a very special event planned for all of us. In honor of you all becoming esteemed members of this hallowed house, we're going to do something both fun and memorable. Tonight we are going to..."

He paused as if waiting for an imaginary drumroll.

"Raid the Chi Nu Tau house!!!"

A deafening cheer rose up from the crowd of frat boys. They hooted and hollers, whooped and wailed, and sent splashes of beer all over. Misha's buzz had retreated. WHAT had Big B just said?! THIS was his idea of 'poetic justice'?! A happy slap across the shoulder turned Misha's attention to the exuberant K.C. who was pumping his other fist in the air and chanting with his new frat brothers.

"Is he SERIOUS?!" Misha demanded in K.C.'s ear, practically shouting but barely making himself heard above the din.

"Totally man! We're goin' on a frickin' panty raid!" K.C. whooped in reply.

"But... but no way! I couldn't possibly!" Misha spluttered

Big B was there at his other side even as he said this.

"Oh come on Mish! I thought you'd be excited! It's my way of payin' ya back!"

"I couldn't! It would be... illegal! Disrespectful! How could you think to do this?!"

"Dude, dude, chill!" Big B barked with laugher, "The Chi Nu's know we're comin! We do this every year!"

"Wait... what?"

"They know we're coming! We set this all up! It's their way of helping us welcome in the new bloods! You get to come as my guest and we're gonna look out for ya! Now come on, we got us some panties ta grab!" Big B exclaimed before jumping up from the seat to assemble the pack.

"Here! Drink this quick and come on!" K.C. shouted, pressing a glass of water into Misha's hand and leaping up to join his brothers.

Misha, licking his suddenly dry lips, warred with the thoughts now in his head. On one hand, it was a staged event with beautiful women and no real consequences... on the other hand, he'd had quite enough trouble involving groups of women, frat boys, and underwear thus far. The crowd of excited males was flooding out the doors and he was in danger of being soon left behind. In a sudden surge of boldness, he decided that this time would be different! It would be his time to shine!

The glass was knocked back and the cold, clear drink poured down Misha's throat. He was already on his feet and a step into following the crowd when he recognized that it definitely was not water that K.C. had given him.

***

The Chi Nu Tau sorority house.

It practically screamed "Shallow Girls Here!" A massive house with a dozen rooms to house what was known as the most vapid, self-obsessed, empty-headed females in the school. Pink, with huge golden Greek letters adorning it, the house stood tall and foreboding before them. But the press of eager young males was not deterred by its size or the fence that surrounded the mansion-like property. Somewhere along the way, someone had supplied the crowd of boys with ladders and tools with which to break and enter.

Misha jogged at the front, kept from vanishing into the crush of masculinity behind him by the imposing forms of K.C. and Big B. Before he could properly assess the situation, someone had run out in front of him and erected a ladder up to one of the windows. Followed by K.C. Misha scaled the aluminum rungs as fast as he'd ever climbed. His blood was pumping and his mind was on cruise-control. Excitement, whether his or just the residue from everyone around him, flooded his mind at what he might find just over the sill. Without pausing to consider why the window was open in the first place, he was in! K.C. followed close behind as Misha looked around, trying to reconcile this sudden change in scene.

It was a women's room alright. Dressers, beds, nightstands, all with that not-so-subtle fashion style that cried "FEMALE" to anyone bothering to notice. Handing from the edged of the drawers, as if poorly put away, were bright and colorful bits of cloth! Others frat boys took nothing near the time Misha took to look the place over, and by the time he was ready to act, the flock of boys descended upon the dressers and was frantically pulling out bras and underwear.

Screams, girlish screams with just enough acting to denote nothing serious, rang through the halls as the crowd pushed through. Misha followed, finding nothing to grab in the ransacked room. The hall opened into a common area where chaos had taken hold. Males chased females with grasping hands and, in many cases, their 'trophies' pulled over their heads. The girls ran, shrieking their playful shrieks and egging the boys on. More males were entering from all corners, displaying new underthings and making plays for anything female they could find.

It was absurd! Misha laughed riotously at the sheer insanity of it all. Best yet, the sight of Big B with a pair of panties hung from each tusk and a bra pulled over his ears like a helmet was just too much! He was so overwhelmed by everything, he couldn't bring himself to do anything but watch!

The crowd thinned out. A panty raid wasn't an event that was expected to last, especially because in a technical sense they _could_really get in trouble for this, staged or not. Guys made their grabs and tried chasing the girls, but each new that they had precious little time before they had to make a break for it. An air-horn blared out from somewhere downstairs, snapping Misha to his senses and telling him that it was now time to make their final selections and leave as fast as possible.

His head snapped about for something to grab. Being empty-handed, after all, would look terrible! But nowhere was anything else left! In a moment's desperation, he decided to duck back into the room from which he'd entered and hope to grab something and head out via the ladder. Back in the room, he saw that it was thoroughly picked over. Drawers were pulled out and askew, blankets and comforters had been rummaged, and the ladder was... gone?!

His head shot out the window to catch the tail-end of a jerky-looking opossum guy running off with the ladder! Now scared that he'd have to leave through the house, he decided to simply run for it and hope for the best. Out he bolted into the hall, dashing to the common area and the stairs. But his hopes quickly dashed to pieces as he saw the room without as single frat-boy in sight.

And quite a number of sorority girls.

At the moment they noticed him, Misha recalled scenes from horror movies. The moment when all the zombies catch your scent, the moment when the velociraptors hear that table you just backed into, when the aliens all notice your heartbeat. Seemingly all at once the girls looked up at him. Looked at him and smiled their wicked playtime smiles. Frozen for a moment, he dashed back into the hall and back into the room even as they all rushed for him.

The door slammed behind him as he threw himself against it, bracing for them to try and push it open. Mind racing, he tried to think what to do! Should he jump out the window?!

It was then that he noticed the three other sorority girls in the room with him. Somehow in his dash for the common room, these three must have come back in to the room behind him. Now these three shared the same impish grins as their sisters as they moved up to him.

"No! Please!" Misha pleaded as they laid their hands upon him and pulled him away from the door, letting in all their sisters.

Women in night-shirts and socks, and other various forms of night-dress, crowded in to the room and moved to help their sisters. Misha, quite more freaked out than he could remember being, was somewhere between paralyzed and hysterical as so many feminine hands grabbed him and bore him down upon one of the beds.

"Ooooh girls, we caught us a cute one this year!" sang out one voice.

"Mmmmhmmm, but we gotta teach this one a lesson!" rang another.

"Can't be goin' round messin' with us now can they!" added a third.

"What are we gonna do with him?!" another shouted.

Cheers and chants of 'Punishment! Punishment!' sounded out across the room.

Misha felt them pulling at his clothes then. He tried to resist, to struggle, but he was no match for the sheer weight of girls upon him. His arms and his legs had to fight against several hands to move at all! He let out some particularly embarrassing cries as he felt his shirt pulled of, his belt slither out around his waist, and his shoes and socks come away.

"MMMmmmm time for the best part of all this!" cried on eager voice.

"N-nooo!" Misha cried as a half dozen hands took hold of his pants and pulled them right off! This was quickly followed by the sensation of his limbs being pulled out at angles and the tight rub of cloth as he was tied, spread eagled, to the bed frame! "Wha... what are you going to do?!" he asked, shocked at all this. Once again he found himself surrounded by women, almost completely naked, and completely helpless to do anything to save himself!

"Oh were all gonna take tuuurns," said a lop-earred bunny gal, "and you're gonna suffer for tryin' to spoil our innocent lil' house here!"

All the girls laughed uproariously.

"Bring forth the tools!" someone cried.

And then they proceeded to walk by Misha, one by one, each with a new object in their hands. A riding crop, an absurdly long feather, a cordless fur-trimmer, a long strap, a giant paddle... these and more were dangled and taunted before his face. In no time, he was feeling extremely nervous about what they could do to him. And how far would they go with this?! Would they really use those clothespins?!

"So, my lil' red foxie," said a wolf girl with a camcorder... the worst of them all... "are you ready to tell us what we want to know?"

"What..." Misha's voice came out in a squeak, "What do you want?"

"Well... let's start with question one!" said another canine gal, "Are you..." she let it hang a while for tension, "TICKLISH?!"

Suddenly she leaped for him, scrabbling her fingers across his belly. Misha screeched, at first out of sheer shock, and then because he really WAS ticklish! Her fingertips danced over his stomach, making him pull and strain against his bonds as he tried to roll into a ball to protect himself. The tension made it worse as his belly-muscles pulled taught. Her tickling fingertips dug in to the tight muscles and attacked.

"Oooh he's got a nice stomach!" the canine reported, smiling into the camera and letting Misha catch his breath. "NEXT!"

"I've heard there's a tickle-spot right about the knee," said a feminine fennec as she moved up between Misha's helpless legs. "Is that true foxie boy?"

Without any chance of him responding, the fennec attacked his knees, behind the joint. And as it turns out, the fennec had heard quite correctly! Misha thrashed and cried out with laughter as a newly discovered ticklish spot was attacked anew. Worse yet, she would switch between his knees with such swiftness that he had no way of recovering before she was on the offensive yet again!

Finally she stopped, leaving Misha gasping between spasms of giggles. But even as he recovered, his ears filled with the amused laughter and comments of the sorority girls surrounding him. His recovery was not lost upon them and now they renewed their efforts with a cruel delight.

"What's next for him girls?" one voice called. This was quickly followed by others calling out the various punishments they'd thought up.

But even through such apparent indecision, suddenly Misha recovered enough to look around only to find all the girls standing over him. Each held one of those crazy long feathers and wore those wicked grins. Reality dawned in an instant as all the girls moved tauntingly slow towards Misha, some laughing, some just continuing to grin, and each unblinking mischievous stare promised that he'd not want to laugh again for a month.

Then the tips of the feathers descended. Though not much of a sensation at first, the tips did manage to rustle his fur enough that in just moments he was itching and twitching more than hed ever known in his life. Then the feathers sought out sensitive bits; his nose, his ears, his feet. They fluttered the feathers over him unceasingly in a riot of tickles. The sensation soon overwhelmed Misha, who found himself drawing deep breaths between spasms and staccato bursts of laughter. He tried to beg them to stop, but at no point could he control himself enough to get a whole word out.

But at long last, the feathers stopped and Misha was again allowed to breathe properly. Tears streamed freely from his face, his mouth was dry, and his every muscle felt like it was on fire. And for a moment, the sorority girls were blessedly silent. That silence may have just been from them planning his next torture, but Misha was none-the-less grateful for the reprieve from their humiliating laughter.

"I think he'd had enough of that girls," someone said, "think he's had enough?"

Misha's heart fluttered as many of them made noises of affirmation. Could it possibly be over?

"Alright. Well then it's time to teach him his lesson and send him on his way. Get'im girls!"

A high shriek of "What?!" escaped Misha just before the girls were upon him once again. Their many hands took hold of him, but this time Misha barely had the strength left to struggle. His muscles were burning water and almost completely useless. But now they held him while a few girls untied his bonds. Several of them hoisted Misha up and then laid him across the lap of one. She was a lop-eared bunny, white of fur and pink of eye, which held him now. And then, to his ultimate surprise, a pair of hands grabbed the waistband of his underwear... his last stitch of dignity... and whipped them off!

Misha's eyes went wide with the breeze upon his bare posterior, but wider still when the bunny's firm cupped hand swished down and slapped him hard on the butt!

"Naughty boy!" she yelled as she landed yet another slap on his tensed rump, "You should know better than to break into the room of us defenseless, innocent ladies!" Another spank, harder this time, to make him jump just a bit more.

Renewed laughter and cries of "naughty boy" filled Misha's ears as he endured swat after swat. The girls had all lined up to take their turn, each taking a whack at his now very tender rump. How many sorority girls lived in one place, he thought as more hits just seemed to keep coming.

At last it was over. The hits stopped and all Misha could hear were his own sniffles. Tears blurred his eyes and his mind could hold no more of it. But it was finally over.

A couple of the girls lifted him off the bunny's lap. He gave no resistance of any kind, too exhausted, too sore, too humiliated, and too... finished. With un-recognized girls under his arms, he was walked out into the hall, naked as he could be, and then into a different room. The girls set him down on the single bare bed within what was more a closet than a proper room.

"Get dressed and get out," one of the girls called in mawkishly as she closed the door, "We've left all the clothes you'll need."

Misha looked around the room numbly. The only things apart from the sheet-less bed were a side table with lamp, a pink, frilly dress laid out near the head of the bed, a pair of matching women's underwear, and a pair of costume high-heels with adjustable, one-size-fit-all soles. Misha stared at these things a while, considering whether he'd rather just be naked. Minutes, perhaps, passed before a banging at the door reminded him that he needed to decide what he would do.

"Come on! Get dressed! If you leave here without a stitch on, someone's gonna call the cops!"

Well that did it. Misha felt anger rise within him. Anger that on top of all this, he'd be in real legal trouble if he didn't dress up in women's clothing! Still, he thought, what choice did he really have?

***

Mandy... It had to be Mandy who walked him to the door. She did her best to hold back her laughter at the sight of Misha in his dress and said not a word to him as they made their way out. Beyond the door, she took Misha by the arm and turned him round to face her.

"Look Mish," she said gently as she could, "I... um... well. I'm..."

"Are you... really about to apologize for that?" Misha said softly, soberly, and with a quiet rage that surprised even him, "Really?"

"It was an initiation, Misha." Mandy stated evenly, hardening her tone, "We do this every year. The Eta Alpha who gets caught gets punished."

"I am no Eta Alpha," Misha replied.

"I know that, but you just try explaining that to fifty three worked-up women who want to get back at the boys." Mandy said plainly, catching his eyes in a hard stare, "You're lucky, believe it or not. If it weren't for me, they'd have let you have it even worse than that."

"I... can't imagine," Misha said, his anger fading and his tone softening, "Well... it seems I've got a long walk to take now."

"Yeah," Mandy affirmed, "and you need to go right to the Eta Alpha house."

"Like I ever want to go back there again," Misha grumbled.

Mandy laughed, "You really don't get it do you Misha? It's all a game. To them and us! You're going to be heading into a hero's welcome! That and I think Big B and K.C. each owe you about a million apologies for not getting you out of here sooner."

She nudged Misha with an elbow and flashed him a smile, "You could always make them endure what you did. The Chi Nu girls are always looking to burn us some bacon, if ya know what I mean. Now go on, git!"

And so it was that Misha walked all the way back to the Eta Alpha Mu frat house, dressed in a women's dress. He got many confused looks along the way and not a few laughs, but none of it mattered anymore. The dress he wore was a badge of honor and victory, at least he told himself this. He'd won the prize for most embarrassing night ever.

The boys of Eta Alpha, those not passed out by this time anyway, cheered him and thumped his back so hard and so often his sore behind was quickly forgotten. Big B and K.C. fell over themselves with 'brah-pologies' and talked boastfully about Misha's experiences to the others. They made it clear to him that, in their eyes, Misha was now more 'man' than any of them for enduring so much. They even offered to make him an honorary Eta Alpha.

Drunk once again, but his spirits reinvigorated, Misha found himself stumbling into his room. Too exhausted to care, he flopped down upon his bed, kicked off the ridiculous and extremely uncomfortable heels, and fell promptly asleep.

***

"Well brah," said K.C. as he hefted his last box onto his shoulder, "I guess this is it. You got the whole room to yourself. Try not to strut naked around here all the time."

Both laughed, breaking through the malaise that hung around the half-empty dorm room.

"I will see you around campus then," Misha offered in a friendly tone, "I hope you enjoy things at the fraternity house,"

"Oh you know it brah," K.C. replied enthusiastically, "You know, you took a hell of a lot of punishment. I'm proud of ya, wingman."

He held out his fist for a bump, which Misha quickly gave. K.C. made to leave, but as he stepped out the door, he turned to say one last thing.

"I know you're not really the jock type Mish, but you should totally pledge for Eta Alpha, for real, next year if you're around."

With that, K.C. and his travelling pile of mess walked down the hall and out of Misha's space. For a long while he sat in the empty room, thinking about his newfound freedom and all he had endured. His mind replayed everything from the last few weeks since he'd arrived at this crazy, crazy school. He tried to frame it all in a way that he could easily write in a letter to his friends and family.

And then he remembered K.C.'s last words before leaving.

Misha burst out laughing. He'd be safe back in Russia by next year.

***

End.