By Heathen
Steven strolls down the dorm hallway and hears rap music coming from what looks like a janitor's closet. He pokes his head around the door and spies the inscrutable, chameleonic co-ed Perry. He's a dork, a stud, a wheeler-dealer, and...more dork, all rolled into one vaguely Van Der Beekian package. Except Perry isn't hideous and has a normal head. Perry offers Steven a free soda, stolen while the vending-machine man took a bathroom break. He also explains that he's living in this hovel because when he registered, they had no rooms left on campus. "That sucks," decides Steven. "Sucks it does not!" Perry snorts. Whoa, that sentence structure has now made two appearances in as many minutes. Perry shares that his rent is discounted, in exchange for keeping mops in the corner and "some boxes of that stuff they put on vomit." The hovel is done up in posters and corkboards, with a halogen lamp poking out amid a cluster of cleaning supples. He brags that, what with the exposed pipes, he can keep the room three to four degrees hotter than all the others, giving female visitors an incentive to disrobe. Because apparently his varied charms aren't enough. Hey, Perry? These girls don't need incentives. They strip down for Dead Man On Campus. At least you have a pulse. The guys bond over Perry's copy of Total Recall, and it's all going so well for a first date until Jack the Janitor breaks the mood by stopping by for a mop. "That guy is so old-school," says Perry affectionately. Steven winces.
In the hallway, Heath laments that the girls are starting to see them as asexual beings, and suggests a rousing -- or arousing? -- game of Truth or Dare. That way, they dare each other to do things that make them look great, and the women swoon and feed them fruits and berries of the forest before sampling their buffet of bodily riches. "I'm talking copulation," he smarms. Shaggy stops dead and stares at Heath suspiciously. "You're going for Rachel!" he realizes, wounded. "I don't know," Heath shrugs innocently, though he realizes he's busted. It's kind of a dick move on his part, but I guess Heath just has so much love to give, he can't possibly control for whom his trouser radar tolls. Shaggy's eyes narrow, and he complains that it's not fair; he put in a lot of time with Rachel, and now Heath is going to swoop in "like some blond peacock." Seriously! Don't poach the booty, Heath. Although it's not like Rachel owes Shaggy anything, either. "I'm confused by these feelings, too, [Shaggy]," Heath says, the very picture of a sensitive, diapered Meg Ryan angel -- oh, wait, he's actually has been that picture once already. Defensively, Shaggy spits that Rachel likes him better, and Heath humors the idea condescendingly, but no one really believes it and it's really quite sad. Their conversation is interrupted by two guys leaving Rachel's room, as her giggly goodbyes waft down the hall. "Rachel's so sweet and funny," says the guy who plays Taint in "Hell Week." "Yeah, and she's got a huge rack," his blond friend says. "So huge," nods Taint, clearly a scholar of the jumbly sciences. Heath and Shaggy scowl at them. Blondie and Taint continue muttering that Rachel is so totally up for anything, and they squabble over who gets first dibs when they run that train. "Who the hell were they?" whispers Shaggy angrily. Heath shrugs. "You know what I think we should do," he notes with a sly grin.
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