The beer must have been charmed to distract me, there’s no other sensible explanation. It’s true it was of unique quality, it still wasn’t enough to prevent me from being aware of my duties.
And yet, beer or no beer, the result is somehow familiar. Once again, an external force has clearly decided that I am to blame, and arranged matters to make it so. Arranged matters to make me the butt of its jokes.
Now it is clear that my immediate fate includes a cream pie, an unexpected sheet of window glass, or a sudden dunking in the ocean. The inevitableness of it looms like a thug in an alley with a baseball bat.
This is not my favorite outcome.