This article was produced for The Compost, our April Fool’s issue. The contents are entirely fabricated. Any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.
The Chi Xi Chi fraternity raised some amount of money for some charity last night at their annual philanthrophy event, insists service chair John Legasse.
“It was a real success, I assume,” said Legasse. “I wouldn’t know. I was blackout.”
According to fraternity president Hal Broll, service has been the focus of his organization since its founding.
“Going Greek is about more than ‘buying your friends’ or taping bottles to your hands,” said Broll. “It’s about real men of character coming together for a greater purpose. It’s about being more than the sum of your parts.”
When asked how yesterday’s event factored into this tradition, Broll replied, “Oh fuck, that was last night? I’m gonna get grievanced so hard.”
The event was organized by pledge Rick Palmer as a way to “eat up” some of his court order community service.
“I have a vague memory of booking the Tippie Board Room, GFC and sixteen tables in the Campus Center lobby,” said Palmer in a phone interview. “Hold up, I gotta vomit.”
When asked if he had chosen a charity, collected funds or actually planned an event, Palmer got defensive.
“Look, brah. Anyone can hold the helm when the sea is calm. And I got real bad spins right now. Hold up.”
Palmer said that if the event benefited anyone, it would probably be Little Buddies, Chi Xi Chi’s sister charity.
“You know, the one where you go down and pretend to like those orphans?” Palmer said when asked for clarification.
When contacted for comment, Little Buddies director Terry Bull called Chi Xi Chi’s work a “load off his back.”
“They were supposed to come pick up some kids for something or other last night,” Bull said. “Did they? I don’t know. The important thing is, the kids are gone, and I can spend their bread money on coke.”
“Are you a cop?” he added with a wink. “You have to tell me if you are.”
The Campus called Chi Xi Chi’s national headquarters for comment, but the phone number redirected to a hotline that plays “Sweet Caroline” on perpetual repeat.