NEW TFM Videos Section

Watch thousands of hilarious videos from college campuses across the country.

Watch Now

Conversations With Your Risk Management Chair

======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====


One of the most rewarding feelings about being in a fraternity is being able to give back to the fraternity despite never being asked to. Some guys just use their title to boost their ego or their résumé. Some guys actually use their position to better the fraternity. Then there’s the Risk Management Chair. Nobody outside of the fraternity knows who he is or what he does, and nobody in the fraternity cares who he is or what he does.

I actually was the Risk Management Chair. I only became Risk Management Chair because absolutely nobody in my chapter offered to do it. I said I would do it, and the VP of my chapter thought it would be funny to let the reigning “Alcoholic of the Year” be the Risk Management Chair. It actually was funny at first because absolutely nobody believed I was suited for the position. So, not only was I not respected just because I was the Risk Management Chair, I was also not respected because I was the least qualified person for the least prestigious job. Regardless, whether people liked it or not, I was the Risk Management Chair, and they were going to have to deal with me whether they wanted to or not.

A Risk Management Chair has many interactions throughout his tenure, and here are some typical conversations that you might encounter should you hold this position, or at the very least have with your Risk Management Chair one day, who, if he wasn’t an alcoholic to begin with, definitely is one now.

Conversation 1

Risk Management Chair: Jason, you can’t rip your shirt off in the middle of the party, stand on a chair, yell, “I’m Donkey Kong!” then proceed to roll garbage cans at the Kappas, as if they’re barrels. You can do most of that, just not all of it, specifically the throwing garbage cans at Kappas, in case we aren’t clear.

VP: They went down like bowling pins.

Risk Management Chair: And then you definitely can’t go up to them after you knocked them over and ask them, “Who wants to get Donkey Punched?”

Jason: But one of them said yes.

Risk Management Chair: She was also the one that was on the floor way before you started rolling the garbage cans.

Social Chair: We had to cancel our mixer with them because of you!

Jason: Cancel with the whole chapter? It’s not like those couple of girls were coming anyway. Not since some asshole tried to roll barrels over them.

Risk Management Chair: That was you! Asshole.

VP: All this talk about Donkey Kong has made me hungry for a banana split at Sonic. Let’s go, I’m buying. Jason, don’t worry about this. It’s a bump in the road, just don’t do it again. Sorry, Brady Blackout. I don’t have room in the car.

(*Everyone leaves*)

Risk Management Chair: Goddammit.

(*Sulks away to room, starts drinking heavily*)

Conversation 2

(*Risk Management Chair arrives back to the house after a night downtown. He heads to the balcony to have a cigar to top off what he thought was a great night. A car pulls up to the house and parks on the lawn. A gaggle of random dudes pile out like it’s a clown car. They are clearly not brothers.*)

Guy: (yelling to the balcony) Is Cory here?

Risk Management Chair: No.

Guy 1: We’ll just wait then. Him and Shane told us to meet them here.

Risk Management Chair: Get your car off the fucking lawn.

Guy 1: Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to mess up your lawn. We’re just pretty drunk is all.

Risk Management Chair: Jesus Christ.

(*Risk Management Chair pulls out his cellphone and frantically calls Cory and Shane. Naturally, they don’t pick up. As the Risk Management Chair is about to just tell the “guests” to leave, Cory’s car pulls up. Cory and Shane let all of them in the house. Everyone makes their way to the balcony.*)

Risk Management Chair: None of this is good.

(*Moments Later, everyone is now on the balcony*)

Risk Management Chair: Who are your new friends?

Cory: We met these guys downtown.

Risk Management Chair: I feel like you probably should’ve been meeting chicks…

Cory: No, we did but…

Risk Management Chair: Doesn’t look like it.

Cory: But we’re having a weed smoking competition with these guys.

Risk Management Chair: I don’t really know where to start. That’s fucking stupid? Seems too obvious. Why are you doing it here instead of their place? Yeah, let’s go with that. Why in the fuck did you think it was okay to invite over ten random dudes to do drugs?

Cory: Because our place is nicer.

Risk Management Chair: That’s exactly why you should do it at their place!

Cory: I don’t need to hear one of your lectures!

Risk Management Chair: You do. You really do. But I don’t think anything I say is actually going to stick, because I’m almost positive you’ve gone full retard.

Cory: What makes you say that?

Risk Management Chair: BECAUSE YOU INVITED OVER TEN MALE STRANGERS TO SEE WHO COULD DO MORE DRUGS YOU DUMB FUCKING FUCK! Why do you two need to even have a weed smoking competition?

Shane: Because…they said that they could smoke more than us.

Risk Management Chair: Considering it’s about 10 versus 2 they probably can.

Cory: That’s why we need you to help.

Risk Management Chair: Yeah, no. I’m not doing that. I’m gonna go downstairs and hook up with some girl who came back for after-bars.

Shane: Do you want to lose!? This is for house pride!

Risk Management Chair: This interaction with you two has temporarily caused me to lose all pride in this fraternity. Thanks, guys.

(*Guy 2 walks up stairs holding two giant bongs*)

Risk Management Chair: Did you walk in the front door with those?

Guy 2: …Yeah. So what?

Risk Management Chair: Goddammit.

(*Risk Management Chair grabs bongs, throws them off the balcony*)

Guy 2: Whoa man, like, what the eff, man.

Risk Management Chair: Get the fuck out!

(*The random guys leave*)

Risk Management Chair: (satisfied with himself) Problem solved.

(*a girl screams from down below*)

Girl: I just stepped in broken glass! My foot is bleeding really badly! I got inadvisably drunk inside of this fraternity house so my blood is thinner, thus causing me to bleed more profusely! Can someone take me to the student health center? I don’t know where it is since I don’t go to school here! I’m actually a senior in high school! My dad, a wildly successful, overprotective, sociopathic personal injury attorney, is going to hold whoever owns this property responsible!

Risk Management Chair: I hate my life.

Conversation 3

President: The Risk Management Chair would like to address the chapter regarding a few things that occurred at the party this past weekend.

Risk Management Chair: Thank you, Mr. President. We had a pretty successful party for the most part. We had a good build, good drinks, good music, but most importantly a lot of ladies. However, I think many of you took the Viking theme a little too seriously. Thank God there was no raping, but I have some serious concerns over the amount of pillaging at this party.

Chapter Try-Hard: I’m TFTC about that shit.

Risk Management Chair: Shut the fuck up! This is YOUR fault! Let’s go over exactly what happened. You wore a Viking helmet with real horns, which, while very festive, is also incredibly dangerous.

Chapter Try-Hard: How is a hat dangerous? Was it a gun hat? No. Was the hat on fire? No.

Risk Management Chair: You are truly retarded. Your helmet became dangerous when you got drunk and started headbutting people. Seven people had puncture wounds. All of them required stitches. I had to lie to the cops and say a rabid, pissed off buck was loose on campus, assaulting co-eds. I don’t think they believed me either. I keep getting calls from that detective. I’m just ignoring them now.

Jack: I was playing a drinking game. If they got stabbed they had to drink. Come to think of it, none of those people actually drank when they got stabbed. Fucking cheaters.

Risk Management Chair: Then there was Al. He went around asking girls if they wanted to stroke his Viking beard.

Chapter Slow Guy: But he doesn’t have any facial hair.

President: We know. He grew his pubes unreasonably long and flashed them to at least a dozen girls.

VP: So, do you know how the fire alarm went off?

Risk Management Chair: I’m getting to that. Then there’s Ryan, who broke all of the brooms in the house and turned them into torches, one of which was given to Jack. So if you’re still following, we just gave fire to someone that had been stabbing people. Does anyone see how this is a problem?

Chapter Try-Hard: So frat.

Risk Management Chair: The torch situation took an especially dark turn when one of the pledges passed out from drinking too much. Jack and friends put him in a shopping cart filled with tinder, lit the thing on fire, and pushed it out into the street. An attempt, I assume, at giving the pledge, who WASN’T DEAD by the way, a Viking funeral.

Jack: If you give me a theme I’m gonna commit to it, bro.

Risk Management Chair: Speaking of the theme, I know we all THOUGHT this one was racist proof, but apparently a Nordic Student Association exists on this campus, and apparently those blonde haired bastards are super pissed. They’ll be running an editorial in the school paper tomorrow.

President: WHAT? But they’re white!

Risk Management Chair: I know.

VP: They’re literally the whitest people on Earth!

Risk Management Chair: (sighs) Yeah, I know. So does anyone have any good ideas on how I can spin seven stabbing victims, a fire alarm going off, a drunk underage pledge with minor burns in a stolen shopping cart, and yet another “racist” rager?

Social Chair: The party DID take place on April Fools’ Day.

President: Thank you for the risk management update. We have a lot to take care of in the near future. Anyway, we counted your votes for Brother of the Week during that speech, and we have a tie. The winners were Jack, Al, and Ryan.

Risk Management Chair: Fuck all of you.


Email this to a friend

23 Comments You must log in to comment, or create an account
Show Comments

Download Our App

Take TFM with you. Get

The Feed