CLANCY OVERELL | Editor | Contact

After a big night watching Queensland save face, a local group of single 20-somethings have today made the 200m journey to a local fish and chip store, in an attempt to quell the hangovers currently pulsating through their temples and out their pores.

The group of four are experiencing a rare ‘honeymoon’ of young adulthood where none of their mates have jobs and are able to just hang at eachothers houses all day and be hungover.

The fact that all men are sweating profusely and probably not wearing enough clothing for this brisk Winter is the first sign that they might have overdone it last night.

In fact, so strong is the post-beer dysphoria, the quiet group of stocky gentlemen appear to be even too dusty to walk next to each other, let alone in sync.

With two to three feet staggered between each, the biggest grub of the group proceeds to light up a cigarette.

“How the fuck are you able to do that?” asks his disgusted mate, downwind.

“That’s the last thing I feel like. I haven’t eaten in like 24 hours”

The smoker simply shrugs and spits, before taking a drag.

It seems that he immediately regretting lighting up the cigarette, promptly throwing all $2.50 of it into the gutter.

“Yeah. You’re right” he says.

“Fuck I’m hungry”

The next 90 metres are completed in complete silence at roughly 5 kilometres an hour.


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