Over a dozen faculty and staff at Pembridge International University (affectionately known as PIU) concluded a revolutionary study over the weekend that bestowed the title of World Klutz Champion upon one Peter Sungrove, of the tiny town of Musk, Arkansas, population 126.
“I get the feeling people moved away because no matter what would happen, I’d ruin anything I’d come near,” Sungrove lamented. Indeed, this mild-mannered accountant rose to national prominence within the ranks of those possessing the anti-Midas touch when his Ford Focus suffered a flat tire, then suffered a second flat tire with the spare still on it, followed by Sungrove, while attempting to pay for the repairs, spilling coffee on the floor, slipping forward and hitting his head on the cash register. When he was finally able to retrieve his wallet, Sungrove’s wad of credit cards exploded in his hands, scattering across the shop. One card was found days later in the clerk’s pants, giving new meaning to the phrase “Visa – it’s everywhere you want to be.”
PIU picked up on this spate of events quite quickly and recruited Sungrove to ‘compete’ versus forty other entrants in a controlled setting that quickly became quite uncontrolled. Even as conductors of the experiment, snickering behind the participants’ backs and forging amateurish-looking gold medals in the meantime, wondered whether Sungrove could possibly be topped, no one else even came close. “I’m just here because they offered free food,” garbled Tom Zinticon of Philadelphia, PA through a mouthful of sub sandwich, just before splattering a packet of mayonnaise into his own left eye.
Will Sungrove hold onto the World Klutz title when the occasion to study such folk arises again? Or will the belt break into small pieces at his very touch, continuing the curse into perpetuity and beyond? Only time will tell.