Thirty-foot tables groan beneath two dozen rowdies pounding with their beer mugs and roaring "In Heaven There Is No Beer," all but drowning out the numerous strolling accordion players. The ein prosit--a call-and-response toast that sounds a lot like "zigi zaki zigi zaki: oi, oi, oi!"--unites the entire dining room in a cathartic howl. Someone orders a meter-long bratwurst. Someone else does a shot of snuff off a snuff catapult, a device that pounds the snuff into your nose. Waitresses are dancing in the aisles. People are drinking from two-liter glass boots filled with imported beer--Dortmunder Union, Gösser, Paulaner, Franziskaner Weiss, Schlösser Alt, Warsteiner.... Police Academy 12: Gone to Germany? Nope, just a typical weekend night at the Gasthof, your source for electric mayhem, Bavarian style.


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