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Choose Your Own Adventure: Will Brad Fuck Your Girlfriend at Fling?

frat-run

Photos (with edits by Adam First) by Mona Lee / The Daily Pennsylvanian and by Don Worley / CC BY-SA 4.0

You grab Jessica by the hand, sobering up fast. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Something isn’t right.” 

You take off down the street, dragging Jessica behind you. Before you get to the street’s end, however, impossibly you see the bulky form of Brad blocking your path.

“Shit shit shit shit,” you say, backpedaling. You turn around to sprint in the other direction, but instead inexplicably run right into the impossibly strong and broad chest of Brad, as if he had teleported right behind the two of you. 

“Your ass is grass,” Brad tells you, “and I’m gonna mow it.” His strong, meaty hands seize you and Jessica by the back of the neck. He walks you over to the basement doors, which are now gaping open like a ravenous maw. He throws you and Jessica down the stairs, cackles, and steps down after you, slamming the basement doors shut. Neither you nor Jessica sees the light of day ever again.

Congrats! Brad didn’t fuck your girlfriend at Fling (lowkey he murdered both of you tho)

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