You know how it is. You work hard all day, you get home, and all you want is a nice, cool, refreshing beer. You had the fridge all loaded up, ready for a swig. The sweet taste of beer, all chilled and delicious, is waiting.
And then you get home, open the fridge, and the beer's missing. Shit. Who the hell drank my beer?
That's one downside of having roommates, or an ambitious son who wants to taste daddy's drink: they're always taking your booze and not replacing it. Ungrateful mooches.
Most people have an abrupt conversation with the perpetrators in such a case, or leave a nasty passive-aggressive note. Not Akronite Michael McDaniel. The lack of sudsy refreshment drove him over the edge.