Thanks to those White Russians, it was an off-white "Anarchy Christmas!"

Christmas is a time when we can celebrate the past year and enjoy friends, memories, and lots of liquor! We have a tradition in my fraternity to celebrate the end of the winter semester with a Christmas party. It is a date event, so every effort is made to keep the event respectable enough for even the most conservative Southern ladies. Gifts are given, egg nog and various h'ors doevers are served, it usually is a nice and relatively quiet evening.

Each brother draws a name from a hat. The brother's name that you draw is for whom you will purchase gifts. Typically each brother receives at least one gag gift and one serious one from their "Secret Santa." Also, gifts are exchanged between a brother and any big or little brothers, as well as big or little sisters, they may have. Since almost all of one's limited creative juices are used up on the gag gift, the serious gift is usually just a bottle of liquor.

The Christmas Spirit.

The night began as normal. Tony Bennett Christmas songs were playing in the background. Mistletoe hung from the doorframes. One of our more well to do brothers purchased a keg of Newcastle Brown Ale to kickoff the evening. All that was missing was snow on the ground and a fire in the fireplace.

As a graduating senior, Allen decided he would be the first to open his gifts. He sat on a couch with Matt, Joe, Mike and Jesse-who all agreed to share and share alike their liquor bounty. Allen had a reputation for working hard, but playing much harder. He received vodka, cream and crème de casis-all of the ingredients of his favorite mixed drink, a White Russian. And, he didn't waste any time in enjoying this gift.

A good two hours into their drinking, Allen was three sheets to the wind. After two and a half hours, he was dead to the world.

Allen's little sister, Kathy approached him: "...and for my big brother, Al, I have a nice little bottle of Crown Royal."

"Look! Al is passed out," Matt yelled.

With the help of his "beer muscles," Mike threw Allen off the couch and onto the cold hard floor. Chopper, who was standing nearby decided that he could help Allen rise from the dead. Chopper lifted him from the ground by interlocking his hands around Allen's waist. And then it happened.

Something white began trickling out of the corner of his mouth. Chopper began swinging Allen around faster and the trickle became a steady stream of White Russian which left its mark on everything and everyone within a ten foot radius, as if Allen were a sprinkler head watering all of the nearby bushes. Chopper thought it would be funny if he could use Allen as a gun to "christen" specific targets.

Jeff and his date got some on their laps, as did Matt and Michelle. Those of us not as near the action erupted in laughter. However, others like Jeff and Matt reacted more aggressively. They began knocking over the chairs and tables around them. Wenis, who is hard enough to control when sober, was the first to actually cause structural damage when he swung a metal chair into a column in the center of the room. He struck it with Ruthian force and a hunk of the drywall flew off to the right.

Before I was able to corral my laughter from the sight of Allen and his lawn sprinkler impression, the room was a complete war zone. Bottles were being broken, chairs and tables were thrown against the walls.

It took only about 10 minutes of "fixing" things to reduce the dance floor to complete detritus. Thanks to those White Russians, it was an off-white "Anarchy Christmas!"