|Setting the Compass|
Also known as 'GPS kebab', this mystical 'food', normally purchased during an attack of the munchies after consuming a skinful, can guide you home if you don't have access to a Beer Scooter. For a detailed description of its composition, see kebab.
You'll have no recollection of how or indeed when it you got home, but common belief maintains that the owner holds the kebab at arms length in front of the body, and adopts the leaning-forward gait of the piss-artist which necessitates walking at an ever-increasing pace to prevent planting his face on the tarmac (and forever ruining the new shirt he bought from Burton earlier the same day).
The famished drunkard then simply needs to follow his meal while pushing rancid shavings of elephant's leg into his mouth and in the process, smearing his face with chilli sauce. It's a good job he's got that beer coat to keep him warm though, and ultimately the experienced kebab-eater will either drop most of it, give it to a Harold Ramp, feed it to the dog on arriving home, or wake up cuddling it in the morning and then finish eating it, cold and regardless of the solidified lard.
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