There are two teams lined up, wall to wall, in one of Louisiana Tech’s racquetball rooms instead of the typical basketball court. Tech being the diverse school that it is, there are people of all shapes and sizes crammed into this room, intently jerking side to side, waiting for the referee, who will have to yell “Go!” and then scramble to his place on one team or the other as each person propels themselves across the room, charging into oblivion to claim first blood. Huge, hulking male students dwarf brave females who dare to play for the first time. This does not matter, as the atmosphere of this testosterone-covered, sweaty-smelling racquetball room is one of pure, animal fury. Gender, race, size: These words do not exist.

This is the third game of dodgeball in the match being played, the tie-breaker. Both teams have been accusing the other of “neglecting” to keep track of their own hits. Words have already been exchanged several times, and the shirts have come off. The host of the game ratchets up the volume on his boombox to maximum, and blares the sickest, most insane dubstep track to ever violate humankind’s ear drums: “Skull Squisher Remix 2.0.” This is not your grandpa’s elementary pickup game.

The referee decides to wait and shout “Go!” right before the most exciting part of the song. Both sides intently wait for the drop. What seems like hours go by as each parallel player snarls and spits venom across the room. Finally, the ref shouts, followed by the lyrics “Anvil falling from the sky / Crush your skull die die die,” signalling the drop. The bottom falls out from any semblance of rules. Players lunge with closed eyes towards available balls in the center, and heads collide as the final round of Monday night dodgeball aggression therapy begins.