My sophomore year in college I was placed in the smallest, oldest dorm room at my school with a 23 year old half hispanic, half jamaican, gay alcoholic poetry major. (Nothing against any of these, just quite a combination). He was a nice guy and we got along, but as is usually the case, there were plenty of times when he would get on my nerves. One night, I'm minding my own business, fishing on Twilight Princess, when all of a sudden my roommate and his boyfriend stumble in drunk as hell. I try to ignore them, but the 8x20ft. room was not designed for privacy. They get into some belligerent argument about Battlestar Galactica/Babylon 5 which segues in to a heated argument about religion. At this point, they are yelling and fighting with fervor. My roommate drags his boyfriend into the hall and slams the door behind them. "You fucking faggot! You faggot!" is all I hear from my roommate as he yells at his boyfriend who I can hear bawling from behind the door. This is where I decide to reluctantly end my fishing session and go to a movie. I'm waiting in the elevator lobby when the boyfriend gets pushed out into the lobby, still crying and my roommate slams the floor's locking door on him. His boyfriend is frantically crying and hammering on the door, begging to be let in. My elevator came and I left. I got out of my movie and checked my phone. I had a voicemail from the girl who lived next to me which was something like, "Jackieboy37, um I don't know what you're doing, but I think you better get back here, [your roommate] and his boyfriend got into some kind of fight and there's blood all over your apartment and the RA wants you to move your stuff out. Just get back here" So I hurried back to find everyone on my floor in the hallway, the girls crying, everyone waiting for my return. Upon entering my room, I see that there really is blood EVERYWHERE, including a large puddle on my roommates bed/couch. Apparently his boyfriend hit him over they head and that's where it bled out. Luckily there wasn't much blood on my side of the room, and I moved down the hall, but in the process I found the lens of my roommate's antique binoculars covered in blood and flesh. He came back that night with 11 staples in his head and a restraining order on his ex.

tl;dr: Gay roommate and his boyfriend have a religion-fueld brawl with a pair of binoculars. BLOOD EVERYWHERE.