Winfred Yeo awakens with a sense of unease. His chiney-sense is tingling. He can't be sure, but he has an awful suspicion that a nation of second rate convict citizens has disrespected the motherland!
He logs onto the news and his greatest fears are confirmed. Aussie swim-beast Mack Horton, a sort of genetically enhanced I.T guy, had strongly inferred that Sun Yang is a drug cheat.
“Mack Horton should apologise! He shames himself and all of China. This coming from an offshore prison of drunk and immoral citizens. You should all die a slow and painful death. You may make arrangements to cease thinking we, China, are friends. May your black souls receive no sunshine”.
It’s a good thing he has a stockpile of Aussie A1 baby formula, because he’ll need substantial nourishment after that intense dummy spittery.
Unaware of what day it is, much less what's going on in the swimming, Dielyn rolls out of bed and trawls Perth: Have a Whinge on Facebook. He spots Winfred’s post that has been shared. “Fark offffff”. Not on Dielyn’s watch. No fucking way.
Dielyn launches into a tirade that would make Jack van Tongeren blush. He was at an all you can racially vilify buffett and his plate of sweet and sour poorcuntery was overflowing.
Worlds collide, and Dielyn and Winfred enter into Mortal Kombat over who can be the bigger fucking arsehole.
Winfred gets off to a great start with a *slightly hypocritical* swipe at Australia’s adherence to human rights. Not to be defeated, Dielyn makes an impressive comeback with a poorly worded tirade about whaling, driving like shitcunts and the poor service he once had at a Vietnamese cafe.
Who won gold in the argument is murkier than the “water” in Sun Yang’s bottle.
Nevertheless, the outraged debate is like a shitty toy under the Christmas tree, it was made in China and snapped up by bogans looking for a cheap thrill.