NB Liquor defends selecting new president through beer pong competition

NB Liquor defends selecting new president through beer pong competition

Fredericton — After over a year, the province says that they are finally ready to find a permanent president for NB Liquor, a role that has remained vacant since December of 2019. Still, they are facing some criticism over their controversial recruiting method: a series of drinking games, culminating in an epic round of beer pong. 

Despite opposition from the Liberal Party, the Conservatives claimed that this was a valid form of alternative recruitment, recognized by universities the world over, called “contingent initiation proceedings.” Colloquially known as “hazing.”

“We want to ensure that whoever is taking the reins of this business truly understands our customers,”  said board chair John Correia. “That is why we thought that this processes would be the most effective way of determining who is actually a fuckin’ legend, and therefore most suitable for the position.”

There were three main candidates for the position. Patricia MacPherson, Albert Parewick and Jerry Carne, all former government workers considered to be eminently qualified for the job.

Things began easily enough with a quick game of Flip Cup, which escalated into an intense bout of Shot Roulette, followed by a revealing game of Never Have I Ever. Then, finally, Beer Pong. 

After an intense match, it was Carne who was ultimately successful. MacPherson, as runner up, was given the role of “vice president,” and Parewick, having missed the cups entirely, was forced to do the “naked mile,” running around the legislative building three times in the buff. 

“Iiiii’d jus’ like to say…” Carne began, nearly losing his footing while stepping onto the platform. “That imma be the fuckin…no, sorry, not fucking, but youknowhatimean…the best president since Barack Hussain Obama, uh, showed up and saved everything. Now, if you’ll excuse…”

Here, he attempted to turn quickly, tripped over his own foot and bashed his head off of the podium. As he lay there, blood trickling from a small wound in his forehead, he slowly raised his hands in a “thumbs up” gesture, before vomiting. 

“This might be a bad time,” said Correia, poking him warily. “But remember, you are also supposed to be the president of Cannabis NB. So…You are going to have to smoke a bowl before we can get the paperwork signed.”

“Fuckin’ eh, bro, lessdoit,” Carne mumbled into the floor.

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