As we all know, hazing and initiation rituals can be dangerous. That’s why a lot of them have gone the way of the dodo… for everyone’s benefit (except the dodo).

In this story, though, we travel back in time and experience a reverse initiation for a group of hockey rookies.

Let’s hear about this in OP’s own words…

A reverse initiation, my hockey petty revenge…

This happened many years ago, at the time I was a 17 (m) and had just made our junior national hockey team.

We had a week long intensive training camp for an upcoming tournament, and were staying in a small town with a hockey rink.

A couple of blocks up the road was a house owned by the rink that was used for team accommodation.

Sounds like a sweet setup. But how else are they using that house?

After we finished our training for the day, we were chilling at the house.

One of the team alternate captains and resident loudmouth (we all have at least one of those on a sports team, you know the one…) declared it was time for the rookie initiation ceremony.

Dun dun dun. What’s that gonna entail?

The team gathered in the kitchen, and the loudmouth, let’s call him ‘Vic’, explained that the initiation involved us drinking a ‘smoothie’…

Vic walked around the kitchen, taking random stuff out of the cupboards.

He went to the fridge, took out an old can of half opened beans, a carton of soured milk, and a couple of other items.

I already feel queasy just reading about it. Are OP and the other rookies gonna keep it down?

Nobody has any idea how long they’d been in there, perhaps from a previous team that stayed at the house months ago…

The rules were simple: myself and the other two rookies, let’s call them Z and B, had to finish our smoothies in under a minute.

We weren’t allowed to drink anything else or throw up for the next 10 minutes after.

Horrifying. How will they fare?

If we failed, we would move onto the second initiation, which would apparently be ‘much worse’…

So after putting his eclectic mix of items in the blender, including a copious amount of herbs and spices from the spice rack, Vic blended up our cocktail.

It came out, as you can guess, in a thick, gooey liquid in the most unappetising greyish pink colour you could imagine.

Vic poured the smoothie into three tall glasses while holding his mouth and nose as he couldn’t bare the smell.

Welp, that sounds like it can’t get any worse.

To make things worse…

A teammate who was eating a pack of potato crisps mentioned they should put some of the crisps in the smoothie so that we can’t just down it in one go and had to stop and chew.

Just kidding, so much worse. Will OP, Z, and B be able to chew on this?

Vic agreed and they dunked a few crisps into each glass. (I can’t remember which teammate suggested this, but screw you).

Myself, Z and B all drank our smoothies, and yep, having to chew the crisps on the way down made it far more challenging.

The taste and smell was absolutely vile, and Z nearly threw up immediately, but we soldiered on and every one of us managed to finish our smoothies in under the minute timer.

Puke. Or, I guess, don’t puke. The clock is ticking…

Just when we thought it was over, now the hard part started… we weren’t allowed to drink any water or throw up for the next 10 minutes.

We had to stay in the kitchen and all I smelt and tasted in my mouth was vile smoothie flavour.

The rest of the team was trying to get us to throw up by making belching noises, led by Vic of course.

Loudmouths be loudmouthing. Will the rookies hold out or give in?

About 5 minutes in, I wasn’t feeling well, I didn’t know how long I was going to last, something was building up inside of me.

I thought I was going to lose it, Vic could see I was struggling, he was right in my face, spurring me on to throw it all up.

The build up continued…

Are we building to success or vomit?

I started to sweat.. and then suddenly I let out the most disgusting, guttural, vile three-second burp that smelt way worse than the smoothie.

Some of it hit Vic full on in the face.

Vic’s face crumpled as he teared up, turned around and threw up in the kitchen sink.

Ha! Hit him with a taste of his own medicine.

The rest of that week’s training camp, every time Vic saw me his face would slightly crumple.

He mentioned how disgusting I was to burp in his face like that. I smiled a little inside every time he mentioned it…

Vindicated by Vic’s vomit.

Let’s see what the comments come up with for this one.

One person says, project!

Another poster says you coulda gone dirtier.

Someone else says, if you make me puke, I puke on you.

Someone else says, this deserves a name.

Another person says, ewwww. Well done!

Vic-tory is mine!

If you liked this post, check out this story about an employee who got revenge on a co-worker who kept grading their work suspiciously low.