Steph is nothing like you seltzer swilling Sportsgirls. She’s a bit different. She’s into craft beer and is attending Froth Town so she can roam with the gouty-hop-herd in her rightful capacity as their craft queen.
She enters with her all-male squad of crop dusting commandos. They are draped in beer merch but she still opts for a cute top. She’s not like the other girls but her beer review TikToks will do terribly if she doesn’t ferment the wiles of her audience with a little sugar.
As she approaches her first drink, she carries herself with a sense of misguided froff-mastery. After all, she often enjoys a 4 pack of crafties after a long day of work.
Alas, pounding can after can of 6% stout is a very different box of hops. Especially when your entire body weighs about half as much as your average brewer’s beer gut.
To prove her chops, she downs a stout that could be mistaken for the Pizza Hut all-you-can-eat dessert bar and waxes froffical about the layers of flavour and distinct brewery signature after taste at the end.
It’s a tremendous word salad of complete bullshit. Needless to say, she is fitting in very well with the craft beer community. Her squad soon becomes her simps as she levels vicious attacks against girls she sees drinking cider.
After her second can she is feeling pretty feisty and turns to the bearded bozo that’s making sure she doesn’t buy a single drink for the day,
“Uh looks at these hoes. Why even come to a craft beer festival if you can’t handle an imperial stout? Um, pretty sure Leederville is still open girls”
Her vitriol is met with a chorus of amused burps as the heavy drinks begin to do their magic on the group. They lose themselves in can after can of yeww-juice and the good times keep rolling.
Alas her carefully crafted image begins to unravel after she over-exerts herself cutting shapes in the silent disco. She’s lucky she’s able to catch the little volcano eruption in her cup. It should be a warning sign but Steph isn’t prepared to let down her people.
So, she decides the best medicine is another ridiculous strong, thick, beer. Hey if it’s going to come back up it may as well taste nice. While forcing down her 8th can she begins to look at a can of seltzer with impure thoughts. “No, Steph, you’re better than that”, she berates herself for this moment of weakness.
She mistakes feeling a bit better for 15 minutes as a green light to shine. Next stop, the bucking bull. It’s a 5-second blaze of glory and unsurprisingly her yeast-shake doesn’t bring all the boys to the yard. It’s like coyote ugly with more reflux. A sight to behold.
Except, of course, a bulbous lad who will be entering the dad bod wet t-shirt comp. He walks over to Steph as she tries to gain her composure, “I don’t care if there’s vomit on your top, I still think you’re pretty orrright ay”
It’s a low moment so Steph takes the opportunity to get some food in and settle her stomach down. After about 45 minutes, she’s ready to get back on the horse. However, the thought of another beer is tearing her apart inside. She just can’t do it.
So she gets an “eXpresso martini” and asks them to put it in her cup. It’s the perfect crime, everyone will just think it’s another stout. Her reputation will remain intact.
Alas, in a real sliding doors moment, their cups get mixed up during another heated pulled pork v brisket debate and one of her crew partakes from her cup of betrayal. He spits it out, “Steph is drinking an espresso martini!!”
Oh the fkn shame.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?