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Right, the inaugural BADAss AGM (probably) with an itinerary
and everything (for 'everytyhing' read 'horrible curry').
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Things kick off with a bit of darts grub. Notice that BADAss Peaks has a 1:50 scale stone dartboard in the garden area. That's true dedication. Steak Anderson managed to get his hands on a pot of Woodforde's Wherry and didnt it do well. There were bubbles, and particles.
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Ladies and Gentleman... ARE YOU READY...? Time to get serious. The oche is measured for some reason and the format of the AGM Classis is agreed; it's very simple: 9 groups, each group with a single player. That's the 1st round sorted.. and the rest follow on in a similar fashion. There are some surprise early round victories, and some surprise early round casualties (mostly the floor). It's all conducted in the best of order, but it's tense.. oh yes that's right.. tense. More scotch. |
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During the latter rounds the darts went a bit rotten, the official scorecard was spot on, but that was nothing compared to the krap kwality of curry that we most didnt eat. A break away leg spent a couple of hours in Fleet's finest late night establishment, Basement Wank or something, whilst the rest prepared the word'ls loudest firework, which we sympathetically let rip at around 1 a.m. That'll learn em. We all kicked back and watch the World's BEST FILM EVER . Eventually the darts evening came to a close and everyone calmed down apart from Flambé that kept trying to touch my dicky. |
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A big one. A real big one. It had the lot (listed in
descending size) - a house, The Matador, some people, a tannoy system,
lots of shirts, pint glasses, sets of darts, new rude darts flights, and
poo particles. Will we be back next AGM? You just try and stop us. Dare
you. Go on, try. Go on. No, harder. Try. Try try try. |
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