Pub sued after drinker tapes pork chops to feet

A man is suing a pub in Australia after slipping on grease allegedly left by a fellow drinker who had taped pork chops to his feet as a joke.

Troy Bowron, 25, broke his arm and says he had to give up his job as an upholsterer's apprentice. He is claiming A$750,000 (£280,000) in compensation from the Jannali Inn in southern Sydney and its owner, Kelly Wells, for "permitting the use of pork chops as footwear in circumstances that the defendant knew, or should have known, that such use would have produced a hidden trap".

Mr Bowron is also suing the drinker, Ross Lucock, over the accident in November 1997. One witness told the New South Wales District Court yesterday that he saw Mr Lucock tape the chops to his feet. "He was parading around," he said. Mr Lucock also allegedly rode a skateboard in the pub while wearing the meat.

Mr Bowron said he was playing in a pool competition that night. He said the floor became greasy and he slipped on the fat and fell. Mr Bowron, who says he partly lost the use of his arm, is suing Mr Lucock for negligence, claiming his antics caused a dangerous situation.

(To the tune of "Industrial Disease" by Dire Straits)

Warning lights are flashing down at Quality Control
Somebody took some pork chops and they threw them on the floor
there's rumors in the loading bay and anger in the town
somebody blew the whistle and the cheese came fallin' down
there's a meeting in the boardroom they're trying to trace the smell
there taking showers in the washroom there's a sneak in personnel
somewhere in the corridors someone was heard to sneeze
'goodness me could this be pork chops on my feet?
The caretaker was crucified for sleeping at his post
they're refusing to be pacified it's him they blame the most
the watchdog's got rabies the foreman's got fleas
and everyone's concerned about those pork chops on their feet

there's panic on the switchboard tongues are ties in knots
some come out in sympathy some come out in spots
some blame the management, some the rancid cheese
and everybody knows it's the pork chops on their feet

The work force is disgusted with those blasted cheese blocks
innocence is injured experience just talks
everyone seeks damages and everyone agrees
that these are 'classic symptoms of a really smelly cheese'
on MTV and MSNBC they talk about the curse
philosophy is useless theology is worse
history boils over there's an economics freeze
sociologists invent words that mean 'pork chops on my feet'

Doctor Parkinson declared 'I'm not surprised to see you here
you've got smokers cough from smoking, brewer's droop from drinking beer
I don't know how you came to get the Jesse Jackson cheese
but worst of all young man you've got pork chops on your feet'

he wrote me a prescription he said 'you are depressed
but I'm glad you came to see me to get this off your chest
come back and see me later - next patient please
send in another victim of pork chops on their feet'

There were these British soldiers that did a thing they called the "Flaming Ass Dance" on our company billiard table while I was in the Army in Germany. It involved pulling down one's trousers, taking a long piece of toilet paper and sort of wedging it into the cheeks of the buttocks (making like a long Charmin tail), lighting it on fire (at the bottom) and then dancing around until the flames reached your skin. Oh, and of course, being insanely drunk seemed to be a prerequisite. Didn't none of us Americans try it (honest)- it seemed way too stupid and maybe a little queer somehow. Left us shaking our heads and wondering what the Brits got up to in their barracks with no bloody foreigners around.

No flaming butt caper for me but- pork chops on the feet?- now that's something I can picture myself trying. I wonder if they have to be cooked?

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