Ms Oktoberfest

At Oktoberfest Ciara’s dignity plunges lower than her neck line while she battles through beers she can't pronounce. A sloshy sea of busty females and lederhosen clad lads who adopt and treat Bavarian culture like a red haired orphan.

Ciara hosts the befores at her parent’s East Perth abode. She and her five besties pace around her bedroom making sure their immodest outfits are looking guten. Of course, the befores are less about bonding and more about the mandatory pre skank-mode selfie for her Instagram. The girlies form a human centipede chain in front of the bathroom mirror and Ciara uploads the photo, 

“Do you even Oktoberfest?   #german #oktoberfestau#langleypark #stein #beerwenches #lol#shouldbestudying #dasbabes”.

To get into the spirit Ciara purchaes a 6 pack of
 Oettinger: a beer usually reserved for 10am drunks who casually piss-slime into Liquorland the minute the doors open. Nevertheless, she forces the drink down like an Insta-hoe slurping on a balding photographer’s chode in the hope of making it bigger than her impending hangover.

They arrive at Langley Park and sprawl out into a muddy area that resembles an extras casting call for a particularly grim German porn movie. 

By 4pm, Ciara is feeling the ill-effects of liquid gluten abuse. She has randomly started a blue with her best friend over some irrelevant bullshit that can only be resolved after she has shed enough attention-seeking tears from her fucked-eyed face. Accordingly, Ciara is unsteady on her feet and her drunken drama-queening has made her unappealing to all but the seediest faux-German vultures circling.

Luckily for Ciara, a shithead marches past in a lagered-haze and spots his damsel in distress. He is dressed like a UWA banterlord: female clothing, padding under a bra and a wig that has all the appeal of a shower drain clogged with HIV-soaked pubes. He stumbles over and begins the dance of the drunkard, “ayyyyyyyyyyy what's wrong angelface?” He can barely finish his verbal-leering without belching and dribbling in a grubby and involuntary manner.

Ciara sways around while he peppers her with slop-nothings. His cheeseballing makes her sick and she lurches over and sprays his shoes with a chunky spray of overindulgence. At that moment, he stops thinking with his bratwurst and decides to get away from her faster than a police chase on das Autobahn.

Eventually, Ciara hails a taxi with all the composed coordination of a newly birthed baby giraffe. She will wake up with a sore head and niggling feeling that she has set back German-Australian relations by about 10 years.

1 Readers Comments:

  • Anonymous says:
    October 9, 2016 at 4:32 AM

    Hilarious haha, and I can't imagine how you even came up with this brilliant metaphor: "They arrive at Langley Park and sprawl out into a muddy area that resembles an extras casting call for a particularly grim German porn movie"

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