After England’s marginal, yet stunning defeat of Tunisia in last night’s sizzling World Cup match, Berlin expatriate Harry McCrooketrill gulped his last 2.50-pinterino and hustled for the U1, screaming a ravenous, gut-bursting scream of joy and patriotism.
Unfortunately, his mouth wide and kebab-ready, he stumbled forward just as the mighty yellow streak of U1 bolted into Warschauer Str. station. The train stripped right into his mouth and “down the hatch,” as his mum always says, and then disappeared.
McCrooketrill reports he had to wait a horrific six minutes before the next train’s arrival—and that he was no longer even hungry for that Kotti kebab.
“But if I had to swallow the U1 for England to win, I’d do it all over again,” the lad says, explaining he’s eager to digest before the next match, so he can try the Jägerklause pommes.
