Dead mother.

We're in trouble. I just checked with the guys at theJewish house.

They said every one of our answers on the psych test were wrong.

Every one?

Those assholes must have stolen the wrong fucking exam!

Oh, God, look what just creeped in.

Well, well, well.

Looks like somebody forgot there's a rule against alcoholic beverages...

in fraternities on probation.

- What a tool. - I didn't get that, son. What was that?

I said, uh, what a shame...

that a few bad apples have to spoil a good time for everyone...

by breaking the rules.

Put a sock on it, boy, or you'll be out of here like shit through a goose.

Yes, sir.

Now, have you boys seen your grade point average yet?

- Well, have you? - I have, sir.

I know it's a little below par... It's more than a little below par,

Mr. Hoover.

It stinks!

It's the lowest on campus. It's the lowest in Faber history!

Uh, well, sir, we're hoping that our midterm grades...

will really help our average.

- Ha! - Laugh now...

because you clowns have been on double secret probation...

since the beginning of this semester.

Double secret probation? And that means...

one more slipup, one more mistake...

and this fraternity of yours has had it...

at Faber.

Uh...

Well, that was pleasant. Nice of him to stop by, don't you think?

We've gotta do something. He's serious. I think he knows about the exams.

He's right. You're right. We gotta do something.

Absolutely. You know what we gotta do?

[Both] Toga party.

We're on double secret probation, whatever that is.

- We can't afford to have a toga party. - You guys up for a toga party?

Toga! Toga!

Ah. I think they like the idea, Hoov.

Otter, please don't do this.

I got news for ya, pal. They're gonna nail us no matter what we do.

So we might as well have a good time.

Toga! Toga! Toga! Toga!

Toga! Toga! Toga! Toga!

Toga! Toga! Toga! Toga!

Toga! Toga! Toga! Toga!