ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
In a move that has left his mates questioning everything they thought they knew about him, local grain trader Mitch Carrington has sparked an unexpected scene at Boodah’s Riverside Bar by showing up in an outfit more suited to the frat houses of America than the banks of the Diamantina River.
The 29-year-old Betoota Heights resident arrived at the popular watering hole wearing what appeared at first glance to be a standard Friday night get-up—a sky blue polo shirt, bootcut jeans, GrainCorp hat and old RM Williams hightop boots. But the keen eyes of his mates quickly noticed something amiss. They noticed the unmistakable outline of an undershirt beneath his polo.
“What the fuck have you got on under your shirt, Carrington?” questioned long-time friend and council road team leader, Darren Campbell, as he squinted at Mitch’s chest.
“What are you, some fat, sweaty American bloke called Chet? Or Parker? What’s next, you gonna start ordering Bud Light and talking about how gay Joe Biden is?”
The jabs began immediately, and only intensified as the boys settled into their usual spot overlooking the murky, churning waters of the Diamantina.
It wasn’t long before the entire table was in on the joke, with Mitch being bombarded with a series of creative suggestions about what his new American name should be.
“Look at him, he’s sweating like he’s just had to walk across campus in the July heat,” added Brett Hogan, in a poor Southern accent and barely able to contain his laughter.
“Next thing we know, he’ll be asking us if we should go to the Olive Garden for dinner.”
Despite his best efforts to brush off the relentless ribbing, Mitch’s discomfort was evident. Thanks in no small part to the sweat marks that had started to form under his armpits. As the roasting reached a crescendo, Mitch finally snapped, standing up with a dramatic flourish.
“You know what? You guys can go and get fucked!” yelled Mitch as he got up to leave.
In a move that would go down in their friendship group’s folklore, Mitch yanked off his polo shirt, then his now sweat-soaked-beige undershirt and threw the offending undergarment into the Diamantina River with all the force of a man returning a cricket ball to the field of play after catching a six. The garment floated briefly before sinking into the murky depths, as the entire bar erupted into cheers.
Unfortunately for Mitch, his moment of triumph was quickly overshadowed by the sight of his now-exposed chest. A chest that sported a pair of unexpectedly large nipples, which immediately became the subject of further ridicule.
“Crikey, those things could tune into Voyager 1!” shouted one onlooker, as another added, “Who ordered the salami pizza! Look at the size of those pepperonis!”
Despite the continued banter, Mitch’s act of defiance has earned him a newfound respect among his mates, who are now affectionately referring to him as “Pepperoni Carrington.”
As for the undershirt, it remains at the bottom of the Diamantina.
More to come.
