As production from the Beer Blokes’ Brewery hits all time highs in both quality and quantity of product, a major stumbling block has appeared. The Blokes have struck serious problems in the chain of supply department. A development which threatens the very viability of the entire operation. More serious, perhaps, than yeast infections (in beer) sour batches or exploding stubbies.
Look, I’ll just cut to the chase, here. The Blokes are running out of empties.
Despite personally improving the value of the stocks of Australia’s two largest retail liquor suppliers in the last two months - (well, how far back do you need to go to remember paying under $30 for a slab of good stuff?) - Prof. Pilsner is finding that he alone can barely keep up with production. The fact that the good Prof is responsible for the production schedule as well as the provision of empties is quite irrelevant. What can I say, I can’t stop brewing.
Now, this is not intended as a dig at Dr. Lager. Why, he rang me just yesterday to say that he had consumed TWO beers the previous night and had been thoughtful enough to keep the receptacles and therefore had contributed two empties to the cause. These will come in handy when we next brew a 750ml batch of lager. It should be made clear, at this point, that the good Dr. is toiling tirelessly in his work and sporting endeavours, so I don‘t wish to tarnish his reputation.
This is a good point at which to let our readers in on his latest triumph. A sterling knock of 130 in a semi-final last weekend is no small feat. Even more of an achievement if you let him tell the story. Seriously, though, 40 degree heat and a treacherous deck combined with an interrupted training schedule due to work commitments coupled with an opposition who set fields with which to curtail his every offensive stroke and bowled so devilishly so as to thwart his every attacking weapon puts the tally achieved into proper perspective. Did I mention that his effort led his team to the final single handedly ?
I wasn’t there, but I am sure that his grateful team mates would have acknowledged his efforts and rewarded his solo match winning innings and made sure he didn’t need to buy himself a drink all night. Probably bought him VB stubbies. Lots of them. Probably drank more than a few. See where I’m heading with this?
I will leave the final word on this to our mate, Bill. In his reporting of the great century by Dr. Lager, he pointed out to me that ; “Geez, he looked alright out there. But, geez, he’s a good size. Reckon he must be drinking plenty of them after a game.”
Where are the empties, Dr. Lager ? Where are the empties ?
Don't make me resort to mugging homeless people for their booty.
Booty meaning the bottles they collected, not, you know, BOO - TY