It was almost midnight and I was in the Hiett fourth floor lounge with the Brokman O Hiett trivia team, watching new people trickle into the room one by one. “They’re not true players,” I said to myself, downing one last shot of spiked coffee. Suddenly, the radio showed signs of life. I was sitting in a flimsy folding chair with Google at the ready. My fingers were perched just above the keyboard when suddenly I heard, “It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. I bless the rains down in Africa. Gonna take some time to do the things we never had.” I muttered countless obscenities as Toto’s “Africa” cycled through a couple more times, easily topping over 20 plays throughout the night. Then I relaxed as I looked at the updated scores: LU Undead, 1171; Bucky’s, 1108. “Awesome,” I said. “So long as Bucky’s doesn’t get the Super Garruda, they will finally lose.” After nearly 50 consecutive hours strung up on coffee, alcohol and pizza, it would be logical to assume that any person subjected to such extreme conditions would be entirely wasted – an abomination, spawned by the heartless beast that is Trivia. Yet, it is indeed this careful combination of otherwise dangerous components, a Trivia player’s trinity, that allows for productive and creative play even after two days in front of a laptop. You see, coffee supplies the brain with the necessary energy to function, alcohol rids it of any needless inhibitions and pizza provides the body with essential nutrients that keeps it going even in the final hours of Trivia. Once we suffered through “Africa,” the Garrudas began. “What is the inscription on the head of Bryce LeVan Cushing’s elephant sculpture?” Wielding the full power of the Trivia player trinity, my teammates and I scoured the Web for a picture of the sculpture in question. I clicked on a link to Cushing’s Web site only to find that it was already locked up from traffic. “Fine. How about Google images?” I said to myself. After five minutes of searching, I could only find a low-resolution photograph of Cushing’s “Award-winning Elephant.” I heard the bell ring and everyone was relieved to hear that it was a “total shutout.” The next two Garrudas prove to be just as difficult, as the scores remained unchanged with LU Undead maintaining a 63 point lead. Finally, the last question – the Super Garruda! The Super Garruda is not a mere question to be answered, but a beast to be conquered. Even the mightiest of players can only look it in the eye. It is a force that will strip you of your soul if you have not had sufficient mental preparation. “On the plaque for the ‘Walt Haag Memorial Broken Propeller Award,’ Who is listed as the recipient for 2002?” Obviously, nobody on our team had ever heard of such an award. But no matter. A Super Garruda is never prey to mere familiarity. We began our search by Googling “memorial propeller award.” We saw that David Akin from the University of Marland won the AIAA Broken Propeller Award in 1999. Was that the same one? Maybe? “Somebody call him!” I shouted. “His wife picked up. She sounds pissed,” came the reply. “Call Norman Werely! He won in ’94.” “Is that even the right award?” Half an hour goes by in what seems like a few minutes, and the final bell rings. Nobody got it. The answer: “not me.” Ultimately, Trivia brings out a person’s true nature. Friends can turn on you. Enemies can stand by your side. It is a time to discover where your bonds truly lie. So come next January, why don’t you do yourself a favor and play some Trivia.