Departure Gate For Gold Coast Flight Either Most Beautiful Or Hideous People On Earth

IMRAN GASHKORI | Sport Editor | Contact

A local man has made a casual observation this week down at the Remienko Memorial Airtropolis as he strolled past a departure gate for a flight to the Goldie.

"Jesus wept, my eyes," said Western Queensland Carpet Court area manager Darcy Tuckwell.

"Those people are so unbelievably ugly. They should be put in a gulag or something. Locked up. Kept away from the rest of us, based solely on the sight of them. Look at that one, Imran. He doesn't have any eyebrows."

"He should be the first one on the gulag bus. He is truly hideous. Don't you agree?"

Our reporter nodded, palming warm $17 tuna sushi rolls down his gullet.

That was the Jetstar flight.

Across the terminal, where the passengers get older, a bit fatter and more well-to-do, the Qantas flight to our state's weeping anal fissure was the opposite. According to the self-titled "Karpet King" himself, the passengers were the inverse.

"Whoa, isn't she beautiful," Tuckwell told our reporter, now regretting the warm sushi.

"Look over there, mate. Looks like a flight to paradise. Everyone on this flight is so hot. Christ on a bike, that bloke is jacked as hell. Not a hair on him either. He looks like a, like a sort of man dolphin? He must be able to fuck so hard, like a fucking piston on a steam engine. Can you imagine? It would be like ballroom dancing with a chimpanzee. You know how strong they are? They could rip your arm off without even trying. Check out his jawline, too. You could circumcise a grown goanna, it's that sharp."

"But that bloke over there is hot enough to do porn [points]. I reckon so. He could make a good living out of doing porn. Better than selling carpet, that's for sure. I reckon I could've done porn back in the day. I could go for hours and hours and hours. You should take a look at my Johnson. It's at least five shades darker than the skin around it. Doctors say I've worn the finish off it. Water no longer beads on it like a Gore-Tex raincoat. That's how much I've done. I simply cannot be stopped."

Our reporter had to excuse himself as the sharp pains in his tum-tum had gotten too much to ignore. It was now time to find a disabled toilet and utterly defile it with last night's ghost pepper biryani.

More to come.