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Bad Tempered, Critical & Tetchy Game
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A game of MC where rude and outspoken comments about everyone else's bad play/attitude/spelling/general character/personal hygiene/parentage/&c is de rigeur. Is that simple enough for you, or should I SPELL IT OUT?
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Usted idiota de brained de guisante.....Tooting Beck and your Hovercraft is full to the brim with Eels!
"Minsiter," if you insist on having such a long name, you could at least learn to spell it properly. On a happier note, I see the standard of widey's repartee has improved. Perhaps we can attribute this to Hyde Park Corner? New players may like to know that there are five different Dazeds, each numbered according to its quality. Dazed1 is the best, followed by Dazed2, etc. Dazed4 cleans up after dogs for a living - with his mouth.
I see that the spirit is abroad in mc5 to kill a few games. No more suitable candidate could be found than this malebolge, together with its inhabitants, who combine Eloi witlessness with Morlock cretinism. Ah, but we must wait on st gollum to perform the honours, must we not? Making up his own magic phrase to clutch the preciouss moment to his own clammy, pustule-covered breast?
And you couldn't even be bothered to make a guess.
[Darren] Mystery Crescent is only valid if declared in advance, idiot. Of course, maybe the dog had the even worse judgement to create the game as a permanent one. As far as I'm concerned, my play of MC ended the matter and all that remains is a conga of imbeciles. Don't put yourself out, though; you are not expected to have the intellect to perceive the truth of the matter.
Bugger off this is a new station about to open on the Northen line! Now where's that dumb ass brother of mine?
I shall play the next move especially for you rensdork and you can imagine yourself once again blissfully on holiday in Zurich, hanging out in your favorite public convenience near the railway station : Swiss Cottage
[Rensdorf] At least I have a decent grasp of English grammar. Chancery Lane.
South Kenton, honestly, you're all behaving like members of parliament. Except less classy.
[Darren] Your ability to struggle through a "See Spot run" book while moving your lips does not qualify you to pass judgement on anyone else's use of the language.
(Rensdorf) You're supposed to make some attempt to insert the name of a tube station to accompany your witless contributions. Furthermore, I note that an anagram of your name is "For nerds". Don't assume that this page is similarly dedicated. Meanwhile, I zoom out to Epping.
Epping? That prevents nothing. I'd go ahead and win it, but it'd be a hollow victory over you all and I don't think I could explain how in sufficiently simple language. So I'll just ride over to Cockfosters.
Arnos Grove. Cock your fosters at that, losers.
You know Homo Erectus played a more intelligent and complex version of the Great Game than you lot are managing, and there were precious few podumes about in those days. I will attempt to inject a little quality into the proceedings with a rather deft Amersham / Chesham bifurcation. Buckinghamshire is wild.
[Shall we observe a brief hiatus in this game ... as a mark of respect to st dog ? I'm sure he'll be back with just as soon as he is able]
What's up with him? Did he step on the live rail at South Wimbledon?
Nah, he's probably still at Cockfosters. Rosie] I your surname "Lyoldbuggerasusual"? If not, maybe it should be.
[Tuj}What the f..Uxbridge has it got to do with you?
[Tuj] "I your surname"... I'd suggest re-learning the language from the start, if I thought for minute you had the brains to understand it. And as for you, plump, you can Finchley Road.
Darren, if you got your hand out of your arse you might just realise is was a typo, or to use the Rensdorf, a "typographical error". Basically, some of us have lives and therefore reasons to hurry. We don't just act like scrotes. Epping.
Rosie] i am away in wales, on sad family business until sometime early next week, not that it is any of your fucking business. Seeing as I have popped my head in, and seeing as the game is proceeding in such a dismally bassackward manner, I suppose I might as well vainly try to inject a bit of tension into your sad sad lives with a move.
Citing Ffestiniog Bypass 1947) I play >Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrnbastarddrobwllllantysiliogogofuckinggoch
Bloody hell the fecking imbecile couldn't even be arsed to get the fecking markup right, fecking wanker; Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrnbastarddrobwllllantysiliogogofuckinggoch
Shitty Death ! Mother bleedin' Theresa ! Thought you snuffed it 'bout the same time as that malingering Diana bird got herself squished in a tunnel ! How's your tea towel you haggard old crone ? Saved any sinners lately ? No ! Thought not. No fucking good now your dead are you ? Oh, I suppose someone's going to say they've been cured of leprosy or some other revolting disease by touching one of your rotting sandals or something - but then you Holy Water Brigade are all the same aren't you ? See the Blessed Lady popping up all over the place - that cloud ! Looks just like the Virgin Mary ! No, it look like a cloud, dick-head. Oh look, that shrivelled potato looks just like Mother Theresa ! Let's get down on our knees and lick our way to the friggin' Vatican ! You're all a load of donky-headed Blackfriars - it is alleged.
For the last time, Mornington Bloody Crescent
*shouts, screams, generally goes wild for Darren*
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