“Look at the way it flops about!”
“No really, throw it! What a joke!”
“Where’d you even find that thing?”
“Here—do it at my feet, just throw it.”
“Throw it! Throw it! Throw it!”
Aaron wiggled the thin black disc in his hands, flopping it about like a rubbery pancake as the house party crowd at Delta Theta Sigma goaded him on. Gripping the dark disc like a Frisbee, Aaron chuckled with goofy glee and tossed it at a nearby brother’s feet.
The brother was still laughing as he plummeted through the newly-made black hole in the floor, and was swallowed by the blackness.
For the moment, the room was still—save, of course, for the blaring bass of pop music over the frat’s aging speakers. And though whether the brothers’ silence was due to their collective bewilderment or simply their inebriately slow response time is a matter of some debate, it was Aaron himself who eventually spoke.
“I didn’t—I…” he stuttered. “I mean, how…”
The spell was broken—the brothers erupted into an uproar.
“WHAT THE F*?!?”
“What just happened?!?”
“That’s so messed up…”
“But like… What?!?”
Dale—perhaps the most sober brother—stepped forward. “ALRIGHT ALRIGHT!” he said in a raised voice, silencing the others. “Alright. First—well, first somebody turn off the music!”
The brother closest to the speaker pulled the cord.
Dale continued. “Now, did everybody here just see what I think we saw?”
Aaron edged back, pointing at the hole, still stuttering.
“Aaron,” Dale cautioned, “it’s alright. Nobody knows what’s going on yet. It’s all going to be fine.”
Aaron looked back with crazy eyes. “FINE!?” he asked, astounded. “Fine? I just threw a disc at the floor and it turned into a Looney Tunes hole! What’s FINE about that!?”
“Nothing, Aaron—nothing at all,” Dale responded. “But as crazy as this is, we have to go about this rationally.”
“Yes, Aaron—rationally!” Dale explained. “There may not be a logical explanation for this, but at the very least we can try to figure out how this works. Now, as bad as it sounds, I suggest we try throwing something else in.”
There was a short pause. “Um,” said one of the brothers, “like what?”
Dale rolled his eyes, and grabbed the half-empty beer out of the brother’s hand. He tossed it at the hole.
Just like their lost brother, the beer disappeared into the blackness. Dale scratched his chin. “Hmm,” he mused.
Just to be sure, he stole another beer and tossed it in. Looking over the edge of the hole, he watched it plummet farther and farther away, until it finally grew too small to follow.
“Strange,” Dale said to himself. “In any case, we know it still works, somehow. What to do now then…”
“What about,” started Aaron, “we try to get a rope and see how far down it goes?”
“We could shine a flashlight down?” another brother chimed in.
“Oh! What about a laser pointer?”
“We could at least call down there.”
“Should we like, contact somebody about this?”
Slowly, the fraternity erupted into a cacophony of suggestions, and soon enough the whole frat was arguing over what to do next. “No, listen!” said Dale. “But what if we?” proposed Aaron. “Now if we just,” suggested another.
The room descended into rabble.
Sitting in the corner, Julian was thinking. Not arguing, not even speaking. Just thinking.
Into the rabble he walked. Right up to the hole. Perilously close. Noticing him, the other brothers hushed, curious.
As if he had performed the action a dozen times before, Julian reached down to the edge of the hole.
Somehow, he gripped it.
In one smooth motion, Julian pulled the hole from its place on the floor, and tossed it up to the ceiling, where it stuck with a faint +splat+.
As if from some distant abyss, a distant scream emanated from the inside of the hole that was now on the ceiling. A scream which grew quickly—closer and closer and closer until…
The lost brother plummeted out of the hole and smacked with a cartoonish thud onto the beer-soaked floor. He moaned in mystified pain.
Smiling, Julian walked back to his corner.
The fraternity roared.