TCP Game Report

(Rantus ExtremusVulgaris)

 By Steve Deadmoney

Tense, nervous, headache?

Well yes, as a matter of fact and since you're asking (these reports are always read by the Anadin marketing staff), I did have an utterly brain-splitting, debilitating thump going on (marginally more repetitive than a Status Quo CD) as I arrived for tonight's game. This was the result of a particularly stressful day at work involving me being rushed off my feet but achieving absolutely bugger all. Those that know me well would say, - no change there - except for the being busy part! - but in my usual suave, and not a little sophisticated way, I tell them to FTHO.

See what I did there? A suave & sophisticated abbreviation for Fuck The Hell Off! I know I've ruined the illusion, but not everyone has had the benefit of my experience at a Swiss Finishing School, where I came top of the class by killing everyone I met who was Swiss. I was also running late, no dinner, and clearing my mobi of spam from 'Sexy women in my area that want to meet me'. I ask you! Try and make it believable for Chrissakes. Something like 'Recently divorced back end of a bus with no job but 4 kids could probably use a decent meal and a night out on the piss at your expense if you need a quickie' has a ring of truth, at least.

Meanwhile, back at my shitty day at the office, the phone calls were coming like a Chav schoolboy - thick and fast. Not that any of them were about us gaining any business, or in fact anything useful to me at all. Listening to a 15 minute spiel before they get to their (ultimately pointless) point is pretty nauseous in itself. When they can't be arsed to even check if it's convenient for me to waste my time listening to this garbage in the first place, it's all I can do not to mention - FTHO!. Would we care to switch our phone supplier? Invest in some 'highly recommended' shares? Buy advertising for a worthy cause? Buy even more advertising ? this time in a wholly inappropriate publication? Buy some labels for our franking machine - on special offer, no less? Uh? yes, I guess that would be the same special offer that we made on every other previous call you've received from us. Save money on our phone bills? No we're not selling anything, oh I see you've had the same call 3 times this year from our company already and you've asked to be taken off the list every time - hang on a minute while I have a word with my supervisor!

Hang on? WHY? Why the fuck WOULD I hang on? Your company's ineptitude is an affront to the word 'organisation', your supervisor clearly ignored my previous requests because he's too busy resitting his GCSE in roadsweeping, and if this isn't your first day in the job I'd suggest that Sales isn't for you. Clearly you're taking my good natured persona for granted, whereas I on the other hand have had a bellyful of you and all the other moronic, time-wasting, outright lying, inconsiderate, cold-calling, knob-cheese creations that it's been my misfortune to have on the end of my phone line.

Still with me? Good. I just wanted you to know my mood as I arrived for the game tonight. I felt it was appropriate that you understood my opponents were going to be dealt with in a way that befitted the experience of the day I've just outlined above. That's right! A nice, friendly game. That's why (pros excepted) we all play poker, surely? To relax and enjoy the camaraderie, whilst remarking on the fickle nature of luck as we take it in turns to win or lose our chips. That's all for now Timmy, so go to sleep or I'll have to get the hammer again!

What? Oh the report! Well look, I wasn't really paying too much attention to detail. Mostly I was busy carving notches in my leg each time I managed to take out an opponent. In my experience, people are more likely to lay down a hand to your raise when they see a pool of blood heading their way!

No doubt you'll want all the details of the play, so here's as much as I can recall:

'The Joy Of No Limits'

OR

'Poker all you like'

A play wot wrote itself, really - words arranged by Tex R. Soldham.

THE CAST

Missy Emily ~

Wannabe Diva (OK, but no more 'Build me up buttercup' please), and our hostess for the evening

Kris 'Special K' ~

Joint host, but no joints allowed ~ someone has to ruin my fun maintain standards after all

Phil 'Rock-steady' ~

Consistently consistent, quiet and thoughtful, cards close to his chest kinda guy. When ARE we going to get some dirt on this guy?

Andy 'Not Pandy' ~

Previously thought to be a pleasant, wholesome character; now admitting to alcoholism, womanising, and party-animal tendencies - except Wednesdays, when he's too busy gambling cash from the sale of his granny, or when The Priory won't let him out of rehab.

Pete 'The Meat' ~

Ladies - don't ask about the nickname. It's not big and it's not clever. Just very active, apparently. Joe Beever's role model. Another bluff? I suggest you don't need to find out!

Baz 'The Joker' ~

The new kid on our block, although he's been around a few others in his time. His natural, Northern wit disguises his cold, steely forces discipline. He'll either disarm you with his hilarious range of one-liners, or else whisper 'Go! Go! Go!' into his lapel & the SAS come crashing through your windows!

Steve 'Deadmoney' ~

Washed up, nothing left to lose attitude to poker (and life in general) ~ but only dangerous when on day-release from Strangeways. How can you know what he's up to when even he doesn't?

Absentees: Adam 'Pay the looking price', Lindz 'The Woo' and G 'The Coroner'.

Scene 1, Act 1

(There is only 1 scene & 1 act, so that's your lot - I'm not Spielberg, y'know)

THE SCENE: A home game in the Three Counties Area, in Middle England. Not literally, that would be Birmingham and we'd need to translate everything. Hosts Em & K, plus Phil are sat around wondering how, after, 597 emails per week, the game still hasn't begun on time. (Answer: That's Poker!) Suddenly, Deadmoney (DM), Baz and Andy enter.

All: Hurrah! Let's play poker!

They all sit down at the table. Some while later, Pete shows up ('I think I've seen this play before'). Some hands are dealt; some chips are won, lost and rebought. DM's headache slowly dissolves as the (sadly, prescription) drugs do (thanks, Em). Eventually, DM takes out the former nice guy Andy who, realising the pub's are still open, makes his excuses and exits.

DM then lays down a big slick to Rocksteady's bluff on the river. The bluff is shown. DM's headache returns, along with a remarkably well-concealed seething rage and an unwelcome, grudging admiration. Beware the wounded stick insect! The very next hand sees K going all in on KK.

DM calls. K shows his KK.

Em: O-K!

K: Not now, I'm playing poker.

DM reveals a jammily-timed AA. They hold up. K is out, and then Baz moves to take full advantage by taking Emily out (well, she's not married yet!) Pete is low-stack and soon follows. DM, now chip leader, weak from the loss of blood from the notches in his leg, waits for Baz & Phil to fight it out (and at least a half-decent hand). They're all in! Baz is ahead, but the river is a 4^th diamond, and Mr.Consistent has the penultimate laugh. Until he gets home to meet the SAS.

So it's the heads-up, DM deals the first hand and calls. Mr. Consistent raises 3 thousand. DM feigns to call, but then re-raises another 3, which is quickly followed by an all-in from Phil. It's called and they show A5o (Phil) and A9o (DM). The flop was A9 with some irrelevant rag. No miracle was forthcoming, and DM flukes his way to top of the league.

THE  END

(for now, anyway - excuse me, but I have to go and change these

bandages on my legs before the phone starts ringing again)