Published on December 8th, 2006 | by The Beige Baron


Mang Leaves Horrible Mess, Makes a New Friend

Suburban wastoid P. McCrack achieved a life-long dream of completely demolishing a point-of-sale wine display at a Hawthorn bottle shop late last night.

The mang was walking briskly down the canned beverage aisle at about 11.30pm, keeping a sharp eye out for specials. From the corner of his eye he saw a keenly-priced can of bourbon and broke stride to open the fridge door and grab a couple of cans.

Perhaps fearing the clerk would rush in and mark up the price before he had a chance to hand over the money, McCrack spun around and made a dash for the counter.

Unfortunately for all concerned, his fashionable brown jacket sleeve snagged the uppermost bottle of Sparkling chardonnay.

McCrack watched with silent horror as the bottle teetered atop its massive cardboard structure, then topple in hideous slow-motion into the entire 20-bottle arrangement.

McCrack dived for the bottle about three seconds too late, and managed to knock the remaining two unbroken ones off as well. Moments later the cardboard display fell on its side and burst into flames.

A passer-by was surprised to see a lone, chipped bottle of Carbernet Merlot roll through the door of the premises and down the footpath for some distance before coming to rest next to a car tyre. A river of wine poured out the door in a flow that would rival the Yarra, both in colouration and volume.

“I can only describe the look on the clerk’s face as one of perfect loathing and resignation,” said McCrack from his suite at the PA hospital this morning. “The mess and noise were absolutely spectacular. Despite this I felt a strange sense of calm. Just as the last bottle came to rest beneath a wine barrell, I’d already extended the hand of friendship to the clerk and did my best to smooth things over. “Obviously relations became somewhat strained … that’s why I’m here,” he smiled wanly through his missing teeth.

However, customers who entered the shop had a different story to tell.

“I was probably half a block away when I heard this tremendous crash,” said Wendall Brown. “Then I walked into the shop and saw a scene of indescribable chaos. This skinny wastoid in a crap jacket was simultaneously trying to pick up huge shards of glass, sweep away spilt wine with a foot, catch another bottle, and offer an explanation to the guy behind the counter, who looked very, very pissed off.

“Next thing he jumps the counter, picks up the klutzy bloke and threw him bodily onto the street. A tram came by and he somehow got his leg caught under it and was dragged for a few hundred metres down the street. He was still signalling some sort of apology as he disappeared over the hill.”

“I stand by my offer to make good the expense for the broken items,” said McCrack, eyes darting nervously from side to side. “Please forward the bill to my attorney, Vincent BlackShadow. Now that it’s all over … well … it did look kind of cool.”

The bottleshop clerk was still sopping after Cyclone McCrack this afternoon. It is unclear whether McCrack will be invited to share his custom with them again.

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Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.

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