Smile, you son of a bitch.

According to witness reports, Mr. Peanut entered the club shortly after a profitable night running the blackjack tables at a nearby casino where he is a regular fixture.  Upon his entrance to the club, he was escorted to the VIP section and immediately began imbibing several whiskey sours; his long-standing drink of choice.  A few moments later, the monocled legume became belligerent and seemingly lost control of himself, prodding the scantily clad dancers with his cane and making numerous rude comments involving “the size of his nuts” and his ability to “satisfy” multiple women at one time despite his considerable age. 

He repeatedly reminded those around him of his “immense stature” both in the world of nuts as well as “in the boudoir” while peppering in many slurred requests for the girls to dance to the Bay City Rollers’ hit “Saturday Night”.  After being asked to “calm down” a number of times to no avail by Beaver bouncers, Mr. Peanut was grasped by the arms and dragged out of the establishment while he shouted obscenities and called for the return of his “expensive top hat” which had fallen off during the struggle.  His hat was thrown out the door to him as he laid in the middle of the sidewalk wailing and waiting for a cab. 

This incident has inspired many women from Mr. Peanut’s long and storied past to come forward with their own tales of reckless behavior, many claiming that they have bore the seed of Mr. Peanut’s indiscretions.  Planters has released a statement calling these allegations “absurd” and say that they will ask Mr. Peanut to seek help for what they call his “untidy little problem” which appears to be nothing more than a voracious appetite for wine, women and song.  Against the advice of his employer, Mr. Peanut held a brief press conference in which he apologized for his “naughtiness” and asked the public to find it in their hearts to “forgive an old fool”.  As he forced his words out through a choke of emotion, a single peanut butter tear emerged from beneath his dignified monocle and slowly rolled down his salty, pitted cheek.