Labyrinthine sexual harassment theme park ‘Fabric’ has been sold to dystopian beer merchant J.D. Wetherspoon, who say they see “massive potential” in the club.
Regular Fabric raver Hannah Yates, who’s been using the club to prevent her brain reaching full maturity, said: “Whenever I’ve been in a Wetherspoon’s for breakfast it’s felt a bit like a funeral home, except with Guinness on tap and a keener emphasis on the futility of life.”
“Since everyone in Fabric past 6am has the same grey skin and twitching eyelids that you usually see in the aftermath of chemical weapons attacks, it’s a match made in heaven.”
The chain – famous for purchasing local pubs and converting them into cynically straight-forward lager dispensaries – plans to continue holding club nights, but has admitted it will no longer provide a platform for artists in niche genres.
The club will instead focus entirely on “balls-out jump up to make your face spasm violently from dusk ‘til dawn’, as well as serving burgers.
Fabric veteran Steve Wood said: “At first I thought this was pretty weird – Wetherspoon’s pubs normally have that fake northern nostalgia thing going on. But then I realised if you turn the lights on in Fabric it pretty much resembles one of those wood carvings of people dying during the bubonic plague.”
“Except instead of a look of horror at their impending doom, everyone’s wearing brightly coloured nylon, and the hollow, gurning smile and wide-eyed confidence of someone who’s taken too many drugs to know what emotions are any more. Basically everyone looks like Jimmy Savile.”
“Or maybe that was just the acid.”
