So Rensdorf you think you have won!!!! Laugh? I nearly pissed myself, perhaps from the summit of Mount Olympus you can tell me which of these properly sums up your situation, it it A, how great the mighty fallen or B, the harder they come, the harder they fall. Well my son, you are flat on your a*se, having slipped on a fresh Richard III. Oh this moment is so sweet, a moment to cherish as not one of the Gods of Olympus but the court jester puts their foot in it, digs a hole and continues digging with a most obvious foul, falling hook line and sinker for the trap set up by Dazed5. Onwards we go jeering at the inept arrogance of Rensdorf, singing and dancing on his grave all the way to Covent Garden.

Tis all a load of bollox......Waterloo, yah bunch of limp wristed feckers...

Well, with that move, you've met yours...probably been listening to too much ABBA. Waterloo played after an unsuccessful MC opens a buffalo charge, free switch to an American system and back, so Clark/Lake (Chicago) and Dollis Hill

Smeg. Waterloo. And screw the lot of you for sticking me there.

Using the wooden spunt made famous by Wee Airchie McSporran have levered the loop open and headed over Upminster Bridge leaving Tuj and his quivering buttocks in the mire of his own secretions.

Why the hell have none of you had the common decency to wait until I had arrived? I might have known you'd all just waste the best part of a week covering the MC board in your spittle without me to point you in the right direction. Which is, as any fool knows, Shepherd's Bush. Now make an effort.

What?

Do wake up. I'm not going to go through all that again.

[Darren] Frankly I'd rather you didn't. It was an assault on my sensibilities the first time, a second dose would awaken murderous inclinations. Besides, why waste time opening your mouth if you're not even going to make a move to take the game on a notch? You're all a load of dithering idiots. Perhaps if I speak in TV advertising slogans, the message might just make it through your thick goggle-eyed skulls. Just do it... Finchley Road

[Dazed5] Call that an insult? I call it a pathetic excuse for a compliment. Now, because you're kinda new round here, and not yet labelled as a total waste of space (though, give it time... 5 minutes should do it if you carry on in that limp fashion), I'm going to go easy on you, and point out that references to the Rt Hon Ann Widdecombe are completely inappropriate in this game, and if you had two particles of intelligence to rub together, you'd have realised that already. No, for the lack-lustre, no-brain self-styled player with the experience of a crippled jellyfish the correct posture is to retire into foul language and bathroom humour, in order to attract the deserved approbium of the masses. Oh, and DO remember to choose a really dumb move, like Bank.

rensdork] I think you will find that in initialising the game I also have the right to decree the winning move. If you can not play the winning move, I suggest perhaps you go back and consult your "ten volumes of arse poetry" or whatever the fuck it was (for indeed nay i havent read them - for nor could i even read your entire post, let alone VOLUMES, so turgid and utterly utterly wank is your writing). Fuck you and fuck your diagonals and fuck your shit attempots to win this game. My game. My rules. Everyone else seems to be coping fine (even though it must be said they are playiing with little actual wit.)
Especially for Rensdork, I will illustrate with :-

Bank

[st d] I see it took you several days to think up that piece of idiocy. Observe, the rest of you drooling, slack-jawed incompetents, the shit sandwich he has just spewed out. First, the grand absurdity -- decreeing the winning move, forsooth. Does the holy dog take two moves at chess? Carry the ball at football? Award himself medals for races he never ran? Perhaps he does -- perhaps he even cheats at patience! Then a repetitive filling of swear words, the nearest his limited mind can come to real invective. Finally, the other side of the sandwich, an attempt to co-opt his microcephalic colleages into complicity with his self-assumed dictatorship, berating them with insults the while. So then, you can either accept his deserved contempt and bow to his caligulous rule, well be you suited to each other, or accept that the game has already been won. I shall take great pleasure watching from firm ground as the ship of fools drifts away on the sea of ignorance, and its denizens tear up its planks with which to beat each other. Ecclesiastes 7:5-6 will repay study.

[Rensdorf] Oooh look at you with your big words. And really I cannot stand those who invoke biblical references in a secular context. So crawl back down that hole you came from, or at least have the decency to play under your usual name, you coward.

As ever, Rensdorf and rab have gone off on one, and forgotten to make a move. How easy does this game have to be made before you people can play it? Charing Cross

rensdork] forsooth, gadzooks and verily; I fist you hard in your broken hole.

[Darren] The pass was implicit, which even the most casual - and I would say you are very casual - of observers would have noticed.

And?

[rab] I suppose "very casual" is some sort of insult in your up-tight hate-filled world.

Bob the Dog] If you're not going to contribute, go play in a blender. Now: Barkingside. No biblical crap or long words here.

[Tuj] Mummy not there to help with the long words? Try 'defenestrate'... Monument

Tuj] So?

Tuj] and it is dog NOT Dog. OK?

[Bob the DOG] Some people have the brains to think out what they're going to say before they post it. I can see you're not one of them. Oval is the shape of your nose.

Belsize Park. Yeah? So? Got somethin' to say?

Chalky] No that's fine. That is a perfectly good move. FOR AN AMOEBA.

st d] You can tell the good jokes by the ones where you have to capitalise(watch penelope, watch!) to show where THE PUNCHLINE is. And boOb tHe DoG? I can call you whatever I like. How does LOSER sound? HA HA. Lambeth North. Reckon Rensdorf's demonstrated defenestration?

[Tudge] I use the small 'p' so as not to intimidate weeners like you. Think Penelope Keith, but more so. South Kensington, of course.

Chorleywood, not that any of you rabble could afford to live there.

¡Usted es todo tan estúpido, me hace lloro con la frustración! Tooting Beck

... and who let you in? Bog off and invade something overseas.
Waterloo

Mfoi]That last effort was demeaning to the whole game, I can tell that you are the type of person, that goes fishing and takes graet satisfaction in catching tiddlers; how cute. While I avoid the easy option, you on the other hand, are just so proud of your feeble efforts, playing Tooting Beck (so asinine), at this juncture, it is the same as returning back to your squalid tent and girlfriend - going into extremes of improbability - as the rain beats down on your worthless and wretched figure clutching your woebegone prize tiddler; pleased as punch and excited as a Firday night p**shead sniffing at the barmaids apron, there is the inevitable slip, and the disaster waiting to happen. What a squalid sordid sight, you, groping your tiddler through her wet flaps. Go back to the start, don't expect these other impoverished players to be any help, a cursory glance by a novice would be appalled by this contemptible rabble. With no restrictions Baker Street is a move of discernment and perception beyond the frog spawn that you miserably call a brain.

Oh SHUT UP you boring little tit
Russell Square YOU'RE ALL IN KNID....Mwaahaahaa!

[Tuj] I assure you that there is no danger of my falling from the window from which I survey this pigsty of jabbering cretins. Truly did Napoleon observe that while rascality has limits, stupidity does not.

Chalky] When I was seven I'd have though so too. Upminster.

[Btd] When I was seven, I could spell 'thought'. Gospel Oak

Farting Stoats ! What a load of pathetic wimps we have playing this game ! Good job the mighty Ruttsborough isn't here (or anywhere for that matter) he'd have you knipped so far up the Jubilee your podumes would squeak. I'll launch my campaign with Vauxhall placing a steaming-dog-turd podume on the central line between Chancery Lane & St.Paul's. Smelly but effective, I think you'll admit.

Rensdorf, crawl back into the rancid cesspit of bloated rhetoric you call home; Blob, poke your farting stoats up your hole using a long splintery stick; penelope and Chalky, please girls, concentrate your efforts on cooking dinner and looking pretty and leave this, like the parking of cars, to the men. Christ on a fucking hanglider. I have had more pleasure in a VD clinic. I have had an easier time pulling my bottom lip over my head and stapling it to the back of my neck. You lot are about as clever as arse parasites. Now for the LAST TIME BECAUSE I WILL NOT SAY THIS AGAIN. Moorgate.

Dazed: Indeed, your name is apt; you must be dazed. We've had three plays of "Waterloo" which invalidates all other double vowel moves. (Be lucky there hasn't been a fourth, which would force Dollis Hill.) Your insults only reveal the smallness of the box you use for storing you brain (that is, when it's not used to put a hat on). So I discard your move. Blob: Vauxhall? VAUXHALL?? You're risking Vauxhall? Perhaps you don't understand.... Kings Cross St. Pancras

And you 'Will' [what sort of poncey name is that?] can mind yer own sodding business. TEMPLE!

It's a bit rich for someone called "Chalky" to start criticising others' names. I hope whoever taught you to punctuate is still alive, as it will save them spinning in their grave. Since you only seem to understand moves with one word in them, I'll keep this simple for you: Monument.