Your standard frat party, with music and spirits and general debauchery. Piz and Mac (Mac!) are standing amidst the wackiness looking a little like they both smell something really gross. Which they probably do. I’ve been to those parties. Anyway, Mac asks if Piz has seen Veronica, which he hasn’t, not in a while. They both look fretful, and for good reason, as we cut to that scary chase from the promos, where Kristin Bell is doing that thing where she looks absolutely terrified and it scares the crap out of you because Veronica doesn’t make that face unless some serious shit is going down. It’s very effective. She’s really freaking out, running down halls and up stairs like she’s Jamie Lee Curtis. She winds up in front of Chez PizWallace, banging on the door and calling out for them to no avail. She slumps to the floor and we see she’s been roughed up a little, which makes me angry. That ominous be-loafered shadow approaches and we fade to black just as her big terrified eyeballs work their way up to its face. I should mention that underneath this whole sequence is that Fatboy Slim song “Right Here Right Now,” which for whatever reason works quite well in terms of really solidifying my tingly creeping dread. Credits.

A title card tells us it’s TWO DAYS EARLIER. Whew. And also, crap. In the quad, Nish and the other members of the Hearst College chapter of Feminists Exaggerated For Comic Effect are parading around on a huge Mardi Gras float featuring a giant pig as a Pi Sig effigy. Patty Hearst seems to have made good on her promise to kick the frats off campus next semester. Veronica and I both wonder if Lillith House maybe has better things to do with its time and money, what with the rapist running around and all, but I guess even the most Comically Exaggerated feminist can’t resist an opportunity to employ crepe paper and glue guns.

Logan and Dick come out of class. Veronica exchanges some snarky banter with Dick, as the giant Mardi Gras float goes by, she marvels at how well they’ve captured Dick’s likeness, and he responds by dropping trou and thrusting his butt in their general direction. “Touché, Mr. Casablancas!” they reply jovially. No, they don’t. Logan does, however, call him a “master debater.” Heh.