Chaos reigned in the Irish countryside this October, as partygoers faced catastrophe during an otherwise idyllic weekend.

“People act surprised,” said L. Burton. “But anyone who knows Tommy [Lindeman] would have expected this.”

Burton and Lindeman had flown across the Atlantic Ocean to attend a beautiful wedding at the famous Slane Castle in Ireland. Despite the distance, they are never ones to neglect an opportunity to celebrate love and cut some rugs. And soon after landing on the Emerald Isle, the wedding day arrived.

The evening at the castle started off with gusto and pizzazz — a beautiful wedding ceremony and delicious meal were followed by dancing into the night. When 10:30PM loomed and the band departed, the celebrants descended into the castle’s basement. There, the festivities continued deep into the night with dancing in the castle’s hidden nightclub.

It wasn’t until dawn that anyone noticed that anything was amiss. In the dim morning light, bruised bones and stained clothes revealed a populace unprepared for the type of evening Lindeman brought to the fore (and to the floor).

“Yup, it was Tommy [Lindeman],” said K. Votta, the wedding’s beautiful blushing bride. “I had a feeling it would happen — anyone would — but the degree of carnage was wholly unexpected.” Indeed, Irish authorities say the country had never seen such a slaughter.

This publication has been able to dive deep into the evidence and piece together what happened in Slane Castle that night:

When Lindeman is having a good time, he becomes what in some circles is known as a “picker-upper.”

“I pick people up,” explained Lindeman. Notably, Lindeman did not say he also becomes a “putter-downer.”

“He dropped so many people,” said A. Conyngham, the owner of the castle, who had ventured down into the nightclub to see how the night was going. “I don’t know how he was able to get through so many. It was horrifying.”

While Lindeman claims to have been stable throughout the night, evidence points to an early lapse into picker-uppering.

“We tried to put Kaitlyn [the bride] on our shoulders during the start of the reception,” said M. Protesto, another partygoer who occasionally partakes in responsible picker-uppering. “But as soon as we started tossing her in the air, he was clearly losing control of the situation. I had to single-handedly save the bride.”

Lindeman is adamant that the floors were to blame, though he was the only guest in a wedding of over 200 people that seemed to have trouble.

“They were slippery as hell!” Lindeman tried to argue unsuccessfully. “No one could be expected to stay on their feet!” Camera evidence shows that only Lindeman had trouble remaining upright.

As the night grew long, Lindeman grew bolder, picker-uppering more and more wedding guests and cultivating a scene of such devastation, the country of Ireland had to put in place a State of Emergency.

Slane Castle, originally built in the 18th century and maintained in perfect condition every since, felt the trauma of Lindeman’s presence. The castle steps, already indented by centuries of feet, wore down in a single night at a rate that would normally be seen over 100 years of activity. Lindeman’s inability to maintain his feet wore them down with heretofore unseen speed.

“I will say my tailbone was definitely bruised and uncomfy [sic] on the flight home,” said one of Lindeman’s victims. “Not the first time I have ended up on the ground and definitely will not be the last.”

Channeling the late-90s band Drowning Pool, Lindeman continued to “Let the Bodies Hit the Floor” throughout the night. Unfortunately for him, his picker-upper-ees were not the only ones scathed.

“My knees are devastated,” exclaimed Lindeman, attempting to say that no one can blame him because he’s also sore. “And I’m going to climb mountains tomorrow!”

This publication has no empathy for a remorseless picker-upper. Especially one that did the unforgivable.

“I dropped Buck [the groom],” moaned Lindeman. “At least he seemed to bounce,” he continued, though it was clear that even he did not believe his own words.

Luckily the bruises will fade, and even thoughts of falling will orange and fall from the tree of memory. It will be as if the picker-uppering fiasco never happened, perhaps a distant dream. All anyone will remember will be an evening of joy, dancing, love, and most importantly, Guinness.

“That’s not true at all,” said the victims in unison.