By: Bridget Fekety (CAS ’25)

We didn’t think the rumors could be true. Yet, just as our crew was beginning to pack up after filming the Iota Beta Zeta brother’s “Crab Walk For Cancer” charity event, we saw it–NO! Him.

A cloud of smoke and a loud bang led us to believe that God himself had descended from heaven. The brothers, however, assured us it was someone even greater–or at least someone who would soon develop a god-complex, as any boy of his kind does: 

Seated before us, on the stoop of 69 Allston St. was a child. Not just any child, the brothers insisted, but a legend. We asked the boys whether the child was one of theirs. To this, they had no comment besides,

“Don’t know where he came from, but this little dude is a brother FOR SURE. Has been since we found ‘em chillin’ on our doorstep a week ago.”

When asked what a baby was doing all alone on the freezing street of Allston, frat brother Deb B. Ryan (COM 23’) answered, “Frat Baby? Oh, no clue, dawg. Frat Baby does what Frat Baby wants. We don’t wanna hover and—shit! Reggie! Has the kid had his vodka bottle yet!?” 

“He’s going to be ready for protein powder soon,” Reggie Knold (CAS 24’) boasted, preparing the child a shitty mixed drink.

Shortly after feeding the child, they wrapped Frat Baby into a snug bro hug, gave him an Allston rat to cradle, and placed him back on the rotting steps of the house. We then inquired about why assimilating a child into frat culture was necessary. Jesse Uxon (QST ‘23) commented,

“We gotta look out  for our lil’ bro. This is a scary time in a child’s life! Like, what if he gets no bitches?”

However, beyond preaching beer pong as religion, there wasn’t much the frat brothers could teach the child. According to the boys, the kid was a party prodigy, only lacking one crucial skill to distinguish him from the common man: The Allston Crawl.

And that was when it happened. Frat Baby suddenly began to crawl with palms outstretched.

We watched as Frat Baby crawled towards the house adjacent, taking a fist and rapping his knuckles against the door. Upon no response, the baby crawled to the next house.

“HOLY HELL!” Deb B. exclaimed. “THAT LITTLE SHIT’S CRAWLIN!” Upon hearing this, the brothers of Iota Beta Zeta gathered and all began to howl, “Sheesh!” in an animalistic manner. 

The brothers joined the child as he continued to crawl from house to house. After a few minutes, a door opened and Frat Baby stood, taking a couple unsteady steps into the doorway. Seeing this, the brother’s cheered, some even beginning to shed tears of pure tequila. When asked if these were the baby’s first steps, Deb B. replied,

“What? I don’t know–who cares! THIS LITTLE FUCKER JUST TAUGHT HIMSELF TO ALLSTON CRAWL!” All the brothers hooted and hollered as the members from inside the house flicked on shitty rave lights and brought out two jugs of jungle juice: the lifeblood of the Iota Beta Zeta frat brothers. 

“We always knew this kiddo was one of the boys,” Jesse said with that shameless grin every frat boy has. “This isn’t just any dumb, baby crawl–it’s the Allston Crawl.”

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