Food Slap Club (2008)
Who hasn’t watched Fight Club and thought: “Yeah – maybe if I smacked my friends around a bit I’d alleviate some of this pedestrian, inner-city tension. Maybe I am getting a bit soft. Have I ever even been in a fight? When was the last time I tried a ninja kick at book club, or a full nelson at Friday night drinks?” Naturally, you’d never follow through. Fighting is, as the aforementioned movie realistically depicts, quite bloody. We’ve all got work and school tomorrow, who can afford the black eyes and savaged teeth? No, Fight Club would just never work here, fortunately I’ve thought of a consumer friendly ‘Fight Club lite’ variation.
It’s called Food Slap Club. The rules are simple. The first rule of Food Slap Club is talk about Food Slap club. It’s free publicity! I’m not an idiot. The second rule is don’t go for the face. The third rule is you have to wear an orange tie on Thursdays. No reason. Food Slapping can happen wherever you like, there are no leaders or secret meetings – it’s just a vaguely antisocial subculture that can coexist within society in the same way as flashmobs, or the spoken word scene.
Food Slapping consists of knocking food out of someone’s hands. The best way to do this is suddenly and firmly – really send that plate flying. Then, just walk away. There’s no need for taunts or ribbing – you’ve said enough. It’s best to avoid eye contact as well. Your victims should never see you coming, or going; they’ll be too busy picking up their spread-eagled stir-fry. Going back through my own past, I can count many instances when a few Food Slaps a day could have really calmed my nerves.
Uni is a great example. Picture this: You’re right under the hammer for a communication essay due last week, it’s the day before Austudy, you’re broke, and coming down with the flu. You wander through the uni bar only to see some jock with a sausage roll coming towards you. You stop, wait till he’s level and WHAP! You backhand the sausage roll straight out of his hands. It flies out of sight, skidding across the dance floor in its own sauce. The guy is left standing like a stunned gorilla. You take a defiant breath and keep walking. You feel stronger than you have in years.
Some more examples: You’re out late a Saturday night, some Supre budgie is squawking away near a takeaway stand. Her slice of pizza: Gone! You’re on your way home from work, some emo wanders out of a fish and chip place awkwardly nursing a tray of burgers. SMACK! Burgers are no more. In a fancy restaurant, the smug yuppy behind you puts a forkful of seafood up to his mouth. SLAPPITY! A Federer forehand sends his morsel flying away with a satisfying clatter. Waiter! Bill please.
You’ll feel like the Neo of the food world. It’s as if you can see the molecules between your hand and the food. They were meant to be together! So next time you’re feeling under the pump and just can’t explain that burning void, avoid your usual routine of vices and self-loathing, and just knock that ice cream right out of that god-damn snotty little kid’s hand! Food Slap Club UNITE!
P.S. If this still all sounds too violent then stay tuned for Pillow Fight Club.