Festival Frenzy: Ubon Ratchathani’s Chaos Unfolds with Unexpected Teen Brawl

On April 7th, imaginations would be stirred as Police Major General Patiyot Singhsomroj, alongside the steadfast Police Colonel Pornsak Lueanakh, dissected a gripping video. A concerned civilian had captured a chaotic street scene where two undisciplined groups of teenagers lunged at each other with wild abandon. The grand tally? Twelve younglings booked and processed for brawling; their charges served with an extra portion of injuring officers on the side.

Among the twelve was the illustrious Itthisak, or ‘Khrut’ as his mates would call him. At 34, not quite within the archetypical teenage demographic, Itthisak valiantly attested that his role in the scene wasn’t part of the performance. True to the ‘unintentional hero of chaos’ trope, he claimed to have wielded a stick merely in defense of a younger friend, presumably misunderstanding it as a grand flourish rather than striking the law’s long arm. Ironically, the clambering hustle and bustle allowed Itthisak to blissfully overlook the fact that it was indeed the ‘protectors of peace’ he’d biffed – specifically Police Sub-Lieutenant Bancha Najan and Police Sergeant Major Nattapon Sriwichaikaew.

Let’s not gloss over that Khrut, fresh out of the clutches of incarceration over a drug-related sentence, and merely four days into his savory freedom, was cast back into the realm of legal intrusion. The investigation unfolded like the layers of a mystery novel, highlighting impromptu weaponry that included chairs and tables – mere set pieces from the venue – rather than carefully selected instruments of debauchery.

And just like any blockbuster with its consequential ripple, Deputy Governor Adisak Noisuwan, wielding the power to suspend mirth, promptly canceled the festival’s entertainment slated for the evening. Furious as it might have been, the theory stood: halting the revelry would prevent any repeat performance of the morning’s impromptu riot. Maj. Gen. Patiyot, stoically summoned his resolve, announcing that clear video evidence had the scene intricately painted. Woe unto the impulsively curious, as arrest warrants were issued with efficient precision, and justice, reminiscent of any monologue delivered by a captivating protagonist, would be served.

While the festivity wrapped quicker than expected – scripts concluded, curtains drawn – the incident became a new chapter of local folklore. It serves as a stark reminder that when celebration dances too close to chaos, everyone from participants to spectators becomes part of the show’s credits. And perhaps the most resonant, albeit unintended lesson: always check who’s in the brawl before you throw a swing, lest it be that very keeper of the law’s peace and subtly uptaken order. That day, Ubon Ratchathani was painted a portrait of unintentional mayhem, destined to be recalled with a chuckle or sigh by those recollecting that festival of ’25.