Written by Ollie Smith
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Tuesday, 28 June 2016

image for English Thug Punches Bag of Crisps at Euro 2016

Following substantial unrest in Marseille and Lille, the scourge of English football hooliganism has reared its ugly head again in the city of Arras, Pas De Calais.

The unsavoury incident occurred at approximately 11:15am in the central Leader Price supermarket. Manager Jean Luc de Mer told us, "I was just stacking some Milka Chocolate when I saw this man in an England shirt browsing the shelves opposite. I didn't think anything of it at first but found it particularly strange when he just stood there, his face turning almost as red as his top, breathing slowly and gritting his teeth. Before I knew it he was punching a bag of Fine Ligne 30% less fat own brand crisps, as if he was in a trance. He just kept punching and punching until they were shattered into tiny pieces. He then kissed the cross of St George and slowly walked out screaming "YES". I tried desperately to revive the fallen savoury snack, primping the bag in a desperate attempt to make it fit for resale, but it had been completely destroyed."

Frederic Leturque, Mayor of Arras denounced the incident as, "a pre-meditated attack on our world class French cuisine. This English pig, he comes over, he attacks our potato chips and with that our hearts, souls, minds, the very fabric of our culture. He has defecated on every Boulangerie, butcher, restaurant and every French person employed in the food industry. This is a very sad day for Arras and for France".

Minister of the National Police, Bernard Cazeneuve said, "this is a very shocking and disturbing incident. Unfortunately the Arras Gendarmerie were unable to arrest the suspect as he was too organised and our officers didn't materialise in sufficient time. However, I can assure the French people that food crime will not be tolerated in any shape or capacity, not now not ever".

Twitter user "YapBoi88" claimed responsibility for the incident and told us, "this was a victory for all Englishmen and women everywhere. When I came to France I brought five Tesco Everyday Value Cottage Pie's for my dinners, a loaf of white Hovis and three packs of Corned Beef for my lunches, a box of Weetabix for breakfast, five bottles of Robinsons orange squash already diluted with English tap water for hydration and five Aunt Bessie's Spotted Dick's with some Bird's custard for puddings. Unfortunately I'd forgotten to bring my favourite Walkers Ready Salted crisps to eat as a snack at the footy and lounging around the apartment. So I ventured out, keen to avoid the eye of foreigners around me, proudly wearing my England top. I spent a good twenty minutes at the nearest supermarket on the Saturday evening and there were all these weird crisp brands everywhere. I wasn't going to eat that French muck and became very upset and angry. All I could think of was how Gary Lineker would feel coming here. That man never got a red card in his career but I'm sure the sight of supermarket shelves without his favourite potato snack would turn him in to some sort of raging satanic, permatanned monster. I even saw horse for sale as well, to eat! The sick bastards! If I want horses I'll put a bet on them or slow down behind them before some rich tosser on top thanks me sarcastically. Anyway, I cried myself to sleep, had my Weetabix the next morning and showed the fuckers how I felt. Bam, right in the centre of the packet, a victory for good old English food stuffs."

At the time of going to press, the suspect is rumoured to still be at large as CCTV footage emerges of him head butting a Kronenbourg beer tap after the bar owner informed him that Boddingtons wasn't on sale.
In Other News:

• A 17 year old male from Manchester throws a Chicken & Mushroom Pukka Pie at the Eiffel Tower.

• A 42 year old male from Luton shouts "You can shove your haute cuisine up your arse" whilst eating Findus Crispy Pancakes on a train between Bordeaux and Paris.

• A 28 year old female from Workington places white flags on 240 Evian bottles at a Carrefour supermarket in Montpellier.

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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