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Thread: Best bits of our favourite mod!

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    Senior Member clarkey1984's Avatar
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    Best bits of our favourite mod!

    The mans a lyrical miracle drops in bloops so subliminal, so sly there almost invisible yet his tales are so mystical.

    3 or 4 of my favourite JG stories, there are more that i wanted to add, but cannot find, oh yeah, nice touch picking a username with less than 3 characters, as it means that its impossible to search your posts, click on 'find all posts by JG' and it says there are no results, but i digress, so...

    Behold, some of the epic posts by the FC legend that is, JG!


    Quote Originally Posted by JG
    The loud constant buzz and idiopathic whine started to fill the rich multi cranial space that was The Fruit Chat quiz machine forum.

    JG marched over to the quiz machine forum with some idle babble that he thought might be worthy of posting. As he appoached the forum entrance he was surprised to see the metal shutters down.
    Ah yes, now he remembered, new security measures in place, someone had done a spot ot tooling on Quizmaster's footie thread and taken the value from the start of the season. There was a good 500 of so of profit and they had sneaked in, messed around with a few last minute goals and scooped the lot, so the thread was now in the red.
    JG reached into his pockets for the keys. Blast! He had left them over at those silly 'potty forums. He'd better attend to that quickly. The jokers over there would have a field day if they found them. Before that though, JG wanted his say, as there was no way in, he'd have to make do with the intercom by the side of the shutters.

    This was no ordinary intercom, there were a variety of equalisation controls, to enable people posting from outside of the forum to impart a posting enriched in quiz flora whilst all other peripheral hissy AWP surf could be supressed. JG flicked the on switch, surely a logical first step.

    That was what started the irritating buzzing.

    Hmmmm. Poor quality speaker cable concluded JG and peered myopically at the vast array of controls. The frequency knobs made sense. No point altering those, although maybe a bit of extra 10,000khz might increase clarity of posting. He turned it from 0% to +ve 15% It seemed to make sense.

    Wow and flutter. He studied that one and decided for no logical reason to turn that from 0 to -3.

    Hmmmmm. Any on looker would surely be convinced he knew the EXACT protocol for operating this bizarre machine. Why so complex? Why not just a button for speaking? They didn't have this in blocks of flats. You don't walk up to the reception door and do any more than ring a buzzer for the flat number and speak when the person in the room presses the button their end. Never mind.

    JG cleared his throat.

    AHEHHEHEMEHMEHHMEHMEHEHEM.

    He wondered if they could hear that.

    "Can anyone hear that?"

    Nothing. No response. He waited for a message to buzz back. Humpf! Surly lot, probably still in bed or maybe that ProperPro heard it and deemed it unnecesary to reply to it, or wait, maybe he heard it and was now formulating a sarcastic response in his head.
    "Moderators can't operate the intercom and I'm out winning lots of money."
    No, not even that. Nothing.

    Aha! What was this dial? '+ve feedback', hmm sounds good, next to a button marked 'loudness boost'. Yeah those two should be good. JG twissled the feedback up to +275% the highest setting and pressed loudness. The buzzing increased to scary proportions and from the other side of the shutters he heard a high pitched wine.

    BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EP!

    Continuous and without any obvious direction, it soon became torturous.

    The intercom crackled into life. "That's not idiopathic"

    "Eh?

    "I SAID......THAT'S NOT IDIOPATHIC"

    "Who's there?"

    "TURN YOUR +VE FEEDBACK DOWN NOW!"

    "What was that you said about idiopathic?"

    "YOU SAID, IN YOUR POSTING, WHICH WE CAN ALL HEAR BY THE WAY. THAT THERE WAS AN IDIOPATHIC WHINING. IT'S NOT IDIOPATHIC AS IT HAS BEEN CAUSED BY YOU TURNING THE +VE FEEDBACK UP TOO HIGH. TURN IT DOWN."

    "I'm sorry I don't really know why I used that word, I'm not sure what it means"

    "WELL OBVIOUSLY, COULD YOU TURN DOWN THE +VE FEEDBACK?"


    JG squinted embarrassed at the array of knobs. Where was that +ve feedback or whatever it was. He couldn't remember. This should help. Mute. He twiddled that down a few steps.

    "How's that?"

    "WHAT!?!? SPEAK UP MAN YOU'RE FADING INTO OBSCURITY AND TURN THAT SODDING FEEDBACK DIAL DOWN, WE'RE ALL GOING MAD HERE."

    "Can't you open the door?"

    "NO! ONE OF THE STUPID MODERATORS LOST THE KEYS OVER AT SOME SILLY 'POTTY' FORUM. THAT'S THE WORD ON THE STREET. I'VE MISSED OUT ON MY ROUNDS AND I'M NOT HAPPY. MONEY GOES IN AND TODAY IT'S STAYING IN - JUST LIKE ME."

    "Who else is in there?"

    "Well there's MR. GRUMPY, MR. TRYING TO BUT FAILING TO SLEEP, MR. LYNCH THE MODS, MR. BAD HEADACHE, can you sort this out PLEASE? WHO IS THIS ANYWAY?"

    "J.....J....It's J J J Jeff Vickers here"

    Oh this was a bad do. JG had forgotten that it was his turn to unlock the quiz forum today. He'd been over to that bloomin' service station in the morning for an unchipped Riches and that had played up, that Double Deal or no Deal had IOUd by mistake as he couldn't feed the coins back in fast enough and he had forgotten his refill key as that was on the same bundle of keys as the mod keys. Then that Take it or Leave it had been a bit moody, also that Treble Jackpots had been removed for a MEGA Deal or no Deal with a 14.10 cashpot that he.....

    "JG I KNOW IT IS YOU. YOU'VE KNOCKED THE +VE ESP DIAL YOU FOOL AND WE CAN ALL HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS. YOU'VE GOT 10 MINUTES TO GET THOSE DAMN KEYS, STOP THIS HIGHLY VEXATING, MIGRAINE INDUCING, WHINING RACKET AND GET THIS DOOR OPEN BEFORE I REPORT YOU TO MIKE WOODS."

    Hmmm. I must be thinking loudly then. Where is this ESP dial? I like sniffing women's knickers. Oh what! No I don't, I can't believe I thought that. Stupid devil voice inside of me making me think stupid things....

    "DO IT NOW JG, YOU BUFFOON!"

    Incredulous but also acceptant that they must be able to hear his every thought, JG panicked and twissled all the dials every which way but the useful way. Soon the quiz machine forum was full of the most bizarre noises imaginable to man. Still at least they couldn't hear his thoughts, or so he guessed, not above that racket and at least he couldn't hear ProperPro getting in a strop. Maybe he best find those keys.

    BUZZZZ!! KERPOWWW! BIFF! BOFF! BLEEEEOOPPPETY WHOOPETY PING PONG!!! ZIP KERPUFFF! WALLLOP! BOOOOM!!! CRASH! BANG! BLLLLLARUPPPETY BLARPETY BLIPPETY BLOPETY ping perchooo! BLOP!
    WHEEEOOEOEOOEOEOEOOEOO!!!

    Then a stroke of genius. The technical forum was nearby. JG burst in.

    "I need a technician, quick, I've messed up the intercom to the quiz forum."

    "Yeah mate. You need a new main board, the battery has leaked."

    "No this isn't an EPOCH related fault enquiry....."

    "What? Not a faulty EPOCH?" A red button was pressed and a sarcophagus opened to reveal the appropriate engineer. "Hello Terry. Long time no see. That intercom is messed up again. Just like it was in 1604, best see to it first, I'll have a brew on when you come back."

    The stench was awful, 400+ years in a dusty old coffin was not great for one's personal hygiene. However if it would stop the quiz forum from going ballistic and a possible black balling from a future career on Fruit Chat, then this was a necessary olfactory incovenience that had to be endured.

    "Is this the offending piece?" croaked the old fossil, a stench of putrid halitosis eminating from his tonsils.

    JG wondered how many malfunctioning intercoms there could be making bizarre electronic cocophonies of noise.

    He tried to figure a sarcastic response, but just paused michrosomaly, before uttering a simple yes.

    After a few expert twists and turns the noise was eliminated, well nearly all the noise. There was a riotous shouting....

    "JG to be FRUIT CHAT CLEANER!"
    "KILL HIS MOD STATUS!"
    "SOD THAT - KILL HIM!"
    "BURN HIS ANCIENT VIP MANUSCRIPTS!"
    "LET HIM HANG IN THE ETERNAL FIERY PITS OF HELL. UPSIDE DOWN. LET HIS BRAIN CELL TOAST SLOWLY TO A CRISP"
    "KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL! and money comes out.....and blood"



    "Can you turn that down as well?"

    The smelly cadaver, pressed a ONE WAY TRANSMISSION button and all was silent.

    "Oh and before you go to sleep for another 400 years, would you fetch my keys from 'that other' forum? I left them near an old oak tree with a yellow ribbon tied around it. I think there may have been a pot of gold nearby as well."

    "I'll do me best Sir, but I hear that there are many pots of gold over there, mostly belonging to that young Leprechaun called Lord Lucky-Dom"


    With JG left in peace, he picked up the microphone and began to speak.


    "It was a cold Autumnal day. The leaves were swept effienciently off the street by a beeping machine blowing things around. I marched, no wait I strolled briskly up to a suburban Weatherspoons pub."

    A distress flare went up from within the forum. Then another and another, more flares.....hold on, what was this? They were spelling something, was this a game of word up being played out with distress flares? Oh no, GET ON WITH IT.....yes very pretty, but JG cut to the chase.

    "Well I won't bore you with what happened on the AWP side of matters, small 20 raise but to be expected as one playable gone and only one semi-playable left. Anyway I tried a black surround Itbox. It was an issue 69. Surpiringly no gaps, I thought these things had more gaps than a nine year old at the dentist? Anyhow there were a few games I hadn't seen before. Some Robin Hood thing which I forgot to look at and a game called CHOOSE TO LOSE. I've a feeling it has been discussed before, but to fill you in, there are 20 questions, it's 1 a go and you get to answer all 20 questions.
    0 Correct = 10, 5 correct = 2, 10 correct = mystery prize, 15 correct = 5 and 20 correct = 20.
    This intrigues me as it's a game with no obvious protection apart from the noble one of asking impossibly hard questions as a pose to the ignoble one of pulling the carpet from underneath your feet and saying oh errr mystery prize for everything and then you get a mystery prize and it turns out to be 30p. I suppose it could do that if emergency dictated.
    Surely one for the Suris of this world?
    I also played BIG REDS as there was 9p spare credit, so what better game to play then BIG REDS?

    (A cluster of distress flares were released at this point, I won't tell you what they spelt out, but they came from the direction of that footie thread.)

    WELL MAYBE PERHAPS WORD UP?

    (No flares, they must be out of flares by now)

    Anyway the first question was "In which of these sports do athletes reach the fastest speed through self propulsion?"

    SKIING, SPEED SKATING OR CYCLING?


    I failed to absorb the word self propulsion and immediately went for skiing.....those guys hurtle terrifically fast through the air,surely faster than any of the other sports. WRONG. Must be cycling then. I've seen the Tour de France and know they can touch 70mph down those mountains. Hairy stuff, but surely a speed skater is about 40mph?!?
    WRONG.....ah now I see the word self propulsion, although those skiers have to push themselves off the start and those cyclists have to ascend the other side of that mountain. Hmmmmm.
    Ok the indignity. Out on the first Q of BIG REDS. First time I've ever lost to those Qs. Ok, so replay, got a 1.04 offer with 2 and 7p left, deal and play bullseye which was 501 starting but just failed to get the 126 points question right....as so close, was doing well for 25s and one 50 all the way.
    Had two goes on CHOOSE TO LOSE and it does feel like pot luck after a while. First few questions are easier and you get questions you know, but what is best strategy? First time I got 14 Q right, needed the last one right for 5....no such luck. Next game was worse, 12 right, last two questons right as well. Quite a heartstopper of a game, but suriely in the right hands an earner? Always entertaining when you feel you're near the money. Unlike say Hangman which is pointless and you can guarantee numerous 25-75 points phrases for not even 1. Maybe the only people that play it, lose 4 until it offers 1/2 and it repeats ad nauseum.
    Anyway that was all I wanted to say. I had drunk my drink by then and didn't want to lose any more of my slim 20 profit, so off I went.

    Over and money not coming Out.
    Quote Originally Posted by JG
    Yeah it's horrible isn't it? Especially with the pub trade as it is...

    You walk in, just you, the barman and two other regulars who are probably close relatives of the barman.

    WOW! Thinks the barman, a customer, must be the Ansell's mystery customer.

    "May I help you?" he enquires in his most eloquent tones.

    At this point you have been following these golden rules.

    1) Avoid all eye contact
    2) Do not stare directly at a fruit machine
    3) Move your head in random directions like you're looking for something. That isn't a fruit machine.
    4) Don't walk into the ladies' lavatory by mistake.
    5) Try to look like you're on important business.


    Drat, you're two seconds into the pub and all you've seen is a jukebox, you have to walk around the corner...there has to be a playable around the corner.

    Now there are three sets of eyes on you. It's a horrible, horrible moment, but you must do the deed, you must scour every last corner of the pub.

    "I'm looking for Bob, he said he would be here"

    "Bob died two days ago"

    "oh"

    But you have to keep walking.....

    "Can I get you a drink?"

    Your lonely faltering footsteps, compliment the morgue like atmosphere to perfection. Shit! The proposition of paying 2.65 for a pint that you can't drink, staying in a pub you didn't want to be in with two of the surliest most miserable looking men you've ever seen, doesn't make things any easier. You have to speak and speak quickly, but what do you say?


    "Blah, I err just need the toilet!!!"


    Schoolboy error, schoolboy, did you not see the sign near the entrance that said this is not a public convenience, toilets for customer use only? It was also next to the sign that said credit only given to people over the age of 60 accompanied by both grandparents.


    The mood changes very suddenly. As far as they're concerned you're filth, a scumbag, a dirty pig. You've only entered the building to urinate against the procelain.

    "Hmmmm, using the toilet and not buying a drink?? This is not a public convenience young man."


    Around the corner, where is this blasted thing? Then a flashy light catches your eye, within a mirror, oh no!!! It's in the corner, the darkest dingiest recess, what excuse can there be to walk into this dark corner?


    With a limp hand you pull out your mobile, explaining that it was on vibrate.

    The surly men look puzzled at the slim compact build of what they assume is some kind of sex toy.

    "Err yeah Bob, I'm in the.....in the.....in thee" and then you realise you don't know the name of the pub...."I'm in the pub...you know, where we said we'd meet......"

    All eyes on you and your fascinating conversation, but you're in the dark corner, what the hell???! It's a Full Metal Jackpots, might have known a pub this derelict would have some stupid 2007 crap like this inside. Hey maybe wait another year, they might get a dial.

    It's then with total horror you see there's a door to the other side of the bar. This area needs exploring. Maintaining the facade of faux conversation enabled by cunningly positioned satellites you proceed into the next area. Your acting skills are poor and obviously Bob, who is dead, is doing all the talking. The Barman has followed you around into the main bar area, now desperate to sell you a drink.

    "Are you lost? Do you need a map? Or a drink maybe?"

    It's then you blurt it out, the pressure all too much as a man sitting at the bar with a bull terrier, both versed in looking hard have made you blurt your missive.

    "AAArrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk" you screech, the embarassment and shame at your ineptitude, coercing you into the corner where you spot a Power 5.

    "I'm a professional fruit machinist" you screech, on the verge of a nervous breakdown, "I'm here to see what machines you have on site. I make money playing fruit machines. AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRK!"

    "Oh I see. Would you like a drink? Actually let me check the rule book a moment, not sure we want your type here...."

    "Err no, I best be going thanks"

    With that you regain your composure and get back to your mate in the car.

    "Well?"


    "Full Metal Jackpot and Power 5"

    "Was it unchipped?"

    "Which?"

    "The Power 5 duh....."

    "Errrr........no"

    "Did you try it?"

    "Well no, but it looked kinda chipped, I just got the feeling it was chipped, just by looking at it...what???....why are you looking at me like that....oh ffs..........it's your turn........what? ok......"

    And so back you go, back into the public house of fun. You do the honourable thing. You sit down in the entrance, just out of eyeshot from your mate and just out of earsight from the bar. You count to 35 and then go back to the car park.

    "No luck, definitely chipped"

    "You tried it?"

    "Yeah"

    "And it was chipped"

    "What you pressed humpf and wumpf?"

    "Yeah......"

    "And what happened...?"

    "Just collected 4"


    "hmmm, ok, next pub then?"



    "Yeah your turn to check....."


    "Let's see.....on the list it says The Furnace and Flanker"

    "Should be nice and hot"

    "yeah deep joy...."

    "Just remember, don't say you're looking for Bob, he died two days ago apparently."

    "Ok, I'll keep a check out for Tarquin, I'm meeting him for a pint, that's the line."

    "Tarquin? you can't use that name, they'll lynch you...."

    "Well have you got a better name?"


    And so it fades as the mini metro trundles along into the sunset, our pair of players gradually compiling a list of their own.

    Happy days.

    Quote Originally Posted by JG
    I can only assume you have finally found the emptier for Monoperty Hot Ploperty. I shall duly PM in due course, July ok Julie?.

    Someone said there are not enough stories. Someone said that when I do stories no one listens. I shall now attempt a story, Jackpotty forums style for which it is not worth you listening.


    Hi. Arcade #1, all the machines were on resets apart from a 5 DonD. I played this and it kept giving cashing out. Eventually I got a 4.20 cash combo and left it 4 down.

    Arcade #2, all the machines were on resets

    Arcade #3, had closed down.



    Pub # 1, I started off by queueueing at the bar for what seemed like an absoute eternity of one minute and thirty nine seconds. I looked along the lines of beer pumps and noticed that most people were drinking beer. I wanted something high in vitamin C and not full of artificial flavourings and preservatives, but in a moment of madness I ordered a Guinness. I surprised even myself and listening to a tip delivered by another member of this very forum Fruittalk.com.ac.uk/url.http I put the one pennyety change in the charity box. The barman didn't even acknowledge my grand gesture. So in a huff I looked at the machines available. A Deal or no Deal double take, A Lucky Leprechaun, A Leprechauns Gold and A Big Deal or The Big Deal as it is commonly known by enthusiasts.
    There was also a Paragon Pro Plus in the corner with lovely blue lighting and extra caffeine buzz.
    I drunk my drink and looked around.
    All around, there were people talking about normal things like Fabio Capello and the price of petrol these days.
    I wondered if I should randomly join in a conversation, but instead opted for some coin operated gaming amusement.
    As it so happened I had a bag of fifty pound coins. The bag was not a designer bag with diamante designer studs on a leather base, but it was a plastic see-thru Girobank style old tatty thing from the 1980s that enabled me to carry 50 in complete jangleless comfort.
    As I struggled to open the fucking thing within the confines of my trouser area, I realised I had two choices. Use my finger as a tool for piercing the sides of the bulbous over sealed contraption or slip a note into the lovely pink socket of bliss.
    I had one more go at opening the blasted bag which resulted in much writhing and squirming. Someone said something about Harry Houdini, so in an instant I popped in a note.
    Lifting the bag out of the trouser area was a complete no no, I may as well have intended to hang a huge placard around my neck that read "I am a notorious paedophile" as produce a bag containing fifty whole pound coins.
    When I was 12 in, some bloke said 'excuse me' as he pushed past me, in a hurry to get to the gents. Eventually at 55 in, I smelt the lovely smell of a steak griddly grill thing wafting from a waitress. It was an inspired perfume and made my really hungry. At 67 in someone laughed loudly. Then I won some money.
    Onto the next machine The Big Beale. An Eastenders inspired Deal or no Deal variant, it was 3 off full and red Reiding from the off. After 16 in and a loud clash of empty bottles going into a blue bin behind the bar, it gave me a batter or bust for 8. Hmmm, messy. I had to replay, especially as that Unlucky leprechaun had not dropped after 67 in.
    Oh dear, it had been blag Reiding, and I was sucked in. 2/3/4 board after 2/3/4 board. I could not even get a full portion of chips for the Beale or no Beale and it kept skipping past the fishtery feature. At 37 in and frustrated, a big bald gentleman stared up at the flat screen television in the lounge area. At 38 in I got a GO ALL THE WAY. Yes have that! GO ALL THE WAY. I looked around the pub. If the guards got wind of this, I'd be thrown into jail. Thankully there was a special offer on food. Buy two exotic cheeses from the cheese counter and get a free umbrella. The customers were lapping it up. I was a bit confuzzlinged as I'd had a few shitcobs chipcobs for 2 and I wasn't sure if it had gone past 70 when I got the three red dog and phones for Mogadishu streak. As I had eighty of the queen's finest hand pressed silky sheets in my bankage, and the red sevens were ferociously rolling in again and again, I assumed that I was on for 140. What a fucking nuisance. I hadn't got the right trousers on and this would make for an incredibly hot, sweaty, coin clanking walk home.

    However I couldn't just collect the lot out. Anyone under the age of 50, collecting more than 3 out of the bandit, is and quite rightly so, most definitely, on the fiddle.

    I had to wait at least 10 minutes in between pressing collect. Then there was the awkward conundrum of how to collect the money. Let it all clatter out and risk barrings and muggings. Put my hand under the chute and risk barrings and muggings and being accused of using magnets and cheating the machine, as my hand was down there. Or I could switch the blasted, wretched thing off and not have to worry about collecting the stupid money.

    I tried holding my pint with my right hand, using my elbow and collecting four coins with my left whilst lettttting one drop down, so it seemed natural. Someone said something about Harry Houdini again, so I just switched the thing off and walked into the sunset, happily ever after.



    The End.




    You know what, there was actually an umpkling of truth in that story.

    And my personal favourite, 'pride of the pack'



    Quote Originally Posted by JG
    The conference was in the business complex. There was the usual fauna. A premier Inn and an adjoining bar with the typical polished wood and brass. An annex from the bar led to the conference area.
    The presentation was going to be beyond dreary. A dry old crone and her partner in crime, a forty something tubby male unsettlingly familiar with technology, would lecture them on procedure and compliance. A swathe of bespoke suits milled and amiably passed pleasantries, the odd reflexive guffaw, oiling the stilted exchanges.
    The car park a mix of various shades between silver and black. The odd goldy beige for good variance as well. Audi, Mercedes, Lexus and BMW the staples.
    There was some time before the presentation started, which was just as well, for someone who wasn't yet in any kind of suit was playing an unchipped Barcrest. I say playing, it was more a kind of continuous cussing and stressed button rapping.
    "Piece of bollocks fucking shitty game crap wank piss fuck. 20 boards for nearly a nifty and it can't turn the fucker red. Load of shit rig up low percentage crap bollocks, better be boarding still after this..."
    A 2 rolled in and Add again was given. The number was an 11. The hi button was rapped until the SFX stopped. The swearing continued unabated.

    Back in the conference centre, various hot drinks were dispensed via an automated drinks unit. Hands were shook and pleasantries exchanged about families, business in general and working lives. Some of the suits had milled into the main conference area. A stocky chap was plugging things into USB sockets on a laptop and messing around making the final touches to a Powerpoint presentation. The crone sat steely lipped ready for battle. Also a green felt tip marker pen lay obeyantly on the desk, ready for action in case of technical failing.

    The train station was within walking distance from the business complex. By a total coincidence the business complex was also within walking distance from the train station. Another party of gentleman was approaching. This time not in suits. An interesting mix this one. A chap from near Bolton with a curved banana and a horses head. A very tall representative of Lewisham. Someone who looked like James Cordon. A spiky haired lad from Cambridge with a blonde haired girl. Somone with lots of power. Someone Scottish. Someone with a similar name to half a Sat Nav. And someone who was one bar short of a sane bar.

    Elsewhere a jackpot on an unchipped Barcrest had finally been won, time had dictated the progression along the route was over and it was sage to venture to the business complex.
    The coins were stashed in the glove compartment. The other clothes in the boot. Spash of aftershave. Spray some goldspot. He stepped out the car and pressed the button. The central locking active and a WHOOP BLOOP indicating the vehicle was armed and secure.

    It was then with abhorrent terror that he saw the latter crew of gentleman. Oh no, not here. The two worlds could not collide. Quite simply no. Never mix business and pleasure. Or in his case business and err other business. It wasn't that he didn't like them. They were a laugh, but here? Fuck no. It couldn't happen. Could it be juggled? They wouldn't recognise him in a suit and with glasses instead of the usual contact lenses. He was even in his other car. Plan was to let them pass. If he was correct the fruits in the bar were a Bank Job and a Monopoly Boom or Bust. Let them get started and move in. As the rowdy gentleman entered the complex, a voice startled him.

    "George?"

    It was Baharahim Mupta or 'Bahra' for short, the owner of KDH networking Ltd. A devilishly suave Indian gentleman, hugely influential in the fields of real time data linking and also a key member of the council of professional standards, and a regulator for information commissioners within the G2 network facilitator's union.

    "Bahra, good to see you, how is business?"

    "Absolutely frantic, the Howard Marcus Quango has dictated that all phase 2 directives be commisioned by the end of October this year. My team is phasing the data into full connectivity and updating our hardware to be compliant to the society's guidelines for electronic phase three linking. Adhering to the new Mack-Williamson procedures has revolutionised our ways of thinking, but it has been stressful, very stressful. We are now ready for the G2 mainframe to go live within the next fortnight. It's an exciting opportunity and I expect a significant upturn in Tec3 throughputs that typically would have been run through an ordinary PC1 processing team."

    JG wished he could give enough of a shit about that side of things to actually understand a single word. Truth was, the missed skill on the unchipped Barcrest, the subsequent play up, the angry landlord, still playing on his mind. It was an interesting situation. Bahra could read the disinterest in JG's eyes, but he was a smooth operator. Rather than be confrontational, he had subtle ways of delivering killer digs. Like a lamb to the slaughter; JG now sufficiently cowed, offered a distinctly boring and bland response.

    "Yeah, I too have found the stress of the Tec3 file updates extremely stressful."

    Mentally he throttled himself. What a dickwad thing to say. Bahra was in the thick of the data retention and upgrading composite and here he was, a standard comms tec wage slave trying to offer his own dreary work experience as way of recompense.

    Bahra paused, his face frozen for a split second. The implications devastating. He knew JG was a fraudulent imposter and JG knew it as well. Even a huge fake smile couldn't save JG's bacon.

    "Hmmm, well I'll leave you to your deep thoughts George. No doubt the revised Franklin-Devinson guidelines are weighing heavy on your mind, don't forget the meeting starts in five minutes and you haven't even touched the buffet. Most out of character I must say. Don't dazzle the presentators with your incisive knowledge of Tec3 servers in the Q+A session now will you? Cheerio George."

    Why did he always feel like a minnow in a bay full of sharks? There was the obvious answer, but it was salient to black that out. Like it was salient to black out the rowdy noise coming from near those flashy lights in the bar.


    Time to walk briskly into the bar, around the other side, away from the AWPs and into the annex. They'd be off into town soon enough anyway. Why did they have to get off at this station and not the town centre? Not that he wished they weren't here, just easier that they weren't here.
    Looking away he executed his plan, probably wouldn't spot him....walk now....

    "WAHHEEEEEEEEEY!!!! JG THE MAN!!!! BIG BOARDS 'R US!!!! JG or BUST. GET THE FUCK IN GEEZA, check it out....JG looking rheam all suited and booted. What ya doing here fella? Bit late ain't ya? We already had the 70 box on Boom or Bust and Keys is just going for Wank Job."

    "Aha oh, yeah. Surprise! I saw you were coming to town on the Internet and I thought I bet they'll be here, so I'm in disguise as someone who doesn't play machines, to throw all the angry landlords off the scent."

    "You crack me up JG, we've got the combined height of Lewisham to put pay to any gnarly old geezers who don't like us filming BIG BOARDS!!! Fifty shitty pee please carol.....awww how d'ya feel? Hey Tommo, JG is a moderator on that shitty Fruitchat, honoury Jackpotty member for the day now, better try not to mod us JG or you'lll be sorry."

    "Fruitchat is about as interesting as forcing out a Bootylicious that's 2 boarding. Typical boring fruitchat attire is that JG? Fuck me that board is so boring. In fact it's so boring it could send a packet of Nytol to sleep. You better show us your skills fella, you're not on Fruitchat now"

    Damn this was awkward, excuses made and time for a loooong visit to the toilet. From the toilet which he didn't need, to the annex, they couldn't see down here. Creep down. Follow the arrow. Shit! Presentation already started.

    The main lights dimmed and just the hum of the laptop and projector fans, the a/c with the bland tubby suit recapping on the key points of last season's meeting.

    The crone gave him a withering stare as he crept in late and sidled into the back row. The sharp suited gentleman next to him looking down on him. Had he seen him play that unchipped 'Crest so badly? Or was it as he was late? Or his car was too low a spec? Paranoia. Relax JG. The babble at first almost salient, soon turned into corporate grade pish. At least in JG's mind it did. To some people, at some point, some where it did make some kind of sense. The first part over, it was soon time to get onto the main issues of procedure and compliance.
    Mr. Tangrama, JG's main boss and line directive flashed him a telling glance as the other speaker started up a new presentation. JG had recently compromised the security of the Gibbs-Parker PPS proxy zip zop updates when he had left the trans-comms portal on 128bit bi-polarity hyper link. Convenient for updating a G1 tec3 MPU to receive G2 bit parts, but totally non compliant with company procedure.


    Meanwhile elsewhere in the building,

    "Where the fuck has that boring Fruitchat nobhead gone? I vote we go to town without him, he's almost as sad as the gamble on this Wank Job."

    "Nah, we can't go without JG, check his stories man, they're the best. Give him time to warm up."

    "Warm up? Warm up? Why the fucks he need to warm up for? What's he doing?!? Getting a blow job off Carol vorderman? Fuck's sake, sack him off."

    "70 box please Carol, oh no...bust again, should be called Bust or Bust. can't believe I got involved in this shit again, all that JG's fault. Where is he?"

    "Having a poo I think" piped up Crazybar.

    "A poo? No chance, no one poos for thirty minutes on a Jackpotty meeting, not even Silent G after a double man up, JG's a stupid C**t plain and simple. I vote we flush him out this complex and get him to bash this CoB button, the sad f**ker must be around here somewhere.....oh shit it has autocollected 1.20, JG you dozy cockhead....let's go get him."


    The old crone was really a joyless, dry old bat, devoid of anything but total devotion to a cause more tied up in red tape than Harry Houdini in a tax office. Even the hardcore devotees from the regulatory arm of the technical council were finding it hard going.

    "Tinkerson-Higgins guidelines stipulated that you simply cannot put a standard ASDL non encrypted interface in series with zip drives containing type 2 security encoded personel files. Yet the local trust statistics show almost 68% of Tec3 employees failing to adhere to their job descriptions as data linkage automators and instead going off on a stupid tangent with discrepancies in procedure such as this one. I have many more examples and I urge you to take great heed. Particularly those of you with pending infringement notices which may restrict your salaries to that of a Tec2 operative."

    Surely she didn't know his personal career history? Or could she?

    They were only on slide 2/34, he was almost looking forward to the bound-to-be-nauseating group role play exercise. Oh why hadn't he had more buffet?



    Meanwhile,



    "Fuck's sake G, sort it out will you?.....There's a 70 cashpot on the Banker Wanks Me and Jeff Vickers off Twice in town. Power Kyle spotted it yesterday. Go and get that dickwad JG!"

    "I vote we leave the bonkers suit behind."

    "Nah, we are Jackpotty, we follow the Jackpotty code of conduct. JG is an honourary member for today, I made it so...he comes with us and we film him cobbing the BRT. I Buddylove, your leader, have spoken. NOW FIND JG!!!! AT ONCE!!!! CAROL!!!!!!! GET IN!!! GET HIM!!!!"

    They split up. Crazy Bar checking the perimeter of the car park. Silent G spinning some lines to the girl on reception of The Premier Inn. If anyone could weedle out guest names, surely he could. Bruce George checking the nearby leisure complex. Scots Bob to remain posted by the bar. Buddylove and Winning Babe getting long range footage with an N95 to try and pick up JG and Tommo to check the Business complex. Key to go undercover as a horse and check the nearby equine complex.



    Meanwhile at reception....


    "Yeah that's right, I am working for the CID. I believe you have a guest staying at your facilities."

    "What's the name?"

    "Jeff Vickers."

    "No one of that name here, we'll keep a look out for him though."

    "Yep, he is a hardened criminal, we wish to contact him regarding the theft of some photos of David Cameron."

    With one deft movement, G pulled the USB stick out the premier Inn computer. A quick attachment via adaptor to his phone and he had access, no guest by the name of 'JG'. Barking up the wrong tree.


    They all met back in the bar. Only Tommo had a possible lead. A load of suits in a room at the end of the annex and some sandwiches.


    It was time for Jackpotty to find JG, after manning up.


    "Look at these shitty little sandwiches, I bet I could eat four of these" claimed buddy unadventurously.

    Key picked up eight of the cheese and tomato sandwiches.

    "CHUBBY BUNNT" he expostulated with reasonable levels of announciation given the volume of cheddar.

    "Time for the Ferrier estate to show you pussies how to man up properly."

    G picked up a whole plate of tortilla crisps, sixteen tuna and cucumber sandwiches and a bowl of fruit salad.

    "Down in one boys...check this out.....Hey check out this mayo, guess that Jeff Vickers has been around here with that Cameron photo...."


    The conference room was fairly well sound proofed. Triple glazed and well insulated, not much could be heard from outside. The question and answer session approached.


    "With the authorities now granting us licence to effectively launder category A data to the registered secondary parties, what is to stop total proliferation of unlicenced data hitting the propsed G3 mainframe?"

    The tubby suit stepped up to the plate, backed by the steely gaze of his crone like accomplice.

    "Category A data should only be shared on iBIOS proxy 3 internal servers and is for use only for internal comparisons. Anyone found uploading primary BIOS offloads to the proxy board or associated board will have their licence revoked and their contract will revert back to T2 phase III on the old wave, not to mention a potnetial 10,000 fine. So be warned."

    "But what's to stop a competitor signing up and hijacking the basic composite iBIOS settings so that a divert is created to a Tec3 insurgency?"





    Outside,




    "What are they talking about?"


    "I don't know, looks boring......"


    "What the fuck are we doing here boys? We're supposed to be looking for JG, more importantly we're supposed to be filiming some cobs, man ups, deals and leps, is JG there or not?"



    Back inside,


    "I think it's important we hear from the grass roots Tec3 maintenance counsulate here. How about the chap who turned up late, presumably T-bypassing his remaming clients on non WAN enabled proxy linkages? Can you tell me how you think Phase 4 implementation under the Pratt-Findelsohn mandate will make the proposed data consultancy act redundant as many of your peers are suggesting?"

    JG panicked. This didn't usually happen. These meetings were about eating the buffet. Going to sleep and looking like you gave a shit. He hadn't even done module one on update proxy wotsits, he was walking into his own grave. The head of the regulatory council, potential employers, influential movers and shakers, he needed a miracle to save him.



    The door opened or rather, flamboyently (not in a gay way) burst open.

    A combined noise erupted....


    <<WHOOP! BLOOOP! WHOOOP! JACKPOTTY CREW TO THE RESCUE!!! CASH OR BUST PLEASE CAROL TWO TEN FUCKING MEGA STREAK BOIIIII!! GET THE FUCK IN THERE. WANK ME OFF. WHAT YOU DOING WITH THESE STIFFS JG? THERE'S A SEVEN OH SHEET, THAT'S SEVENTY SEVEN TEEE OF THE QUEEN'S SHEETAGES ON THE CASHPOT IN THE DOG AND CRUMPET DEAL OR NO DEAL GOOOOLD BOI!!! GET THE MUTHA IN THERE WANK ME OFF CAROL VORDERMAN HAVE THAT BIG SHEETS BIG SHEETS HERE COME THE POT STEPPER BIG GOLD SHEETS BOI HAVE SOME OF THAT JG JOIN THE JACKPOTTY CREW WINNING BABE WILL WIN IT FOR YOU JG WHILST SILENT FLICKERS UP THE COUNT AND KEY KEYS THE KEYS <<<PARRRRAAAAAAPP PARRRAAAAAAP PPPPAAAAAAAAAAAAARP>> G UNIT ON THE AIRHORN BOI!!! CHECK IT OUT!!!! PARP!!!! GET THE FUCK IN AND MAN UP THREE LAMB BHUNAS BOI!!! CURRY NIGHT IN SPOONS LETS HAVE THAT SEVENTY FUCKING SHEETS BOY AND THREEE LAMB BHUNAS AND A CHICKEN DOPIAZA 'AV THAT GET THE MUTHA FUCK IN THERE! GIVE ME THOSE MUTHA FOOOOKING SHEEEEEEEEEEEEETS!!!>>




    A SHOCKED SILENCE, sorry I mean a shocked silence reigned.


    The old crone and tubby techhead went to press the red button simultaneously.

    "Security has been alerted and the police are on their way. Gentlemen, I suggest you leave immediately"

    "We're just here to talk to JG."

    "There is no one of that name here. There is no JG. Please leave NOW!"

    "Keep your hair on., that's JG there."

    "That is not JG, that is George Rogers an employee of KDG composites Ltd"

    "Nah, you silly witch, it's JACKPOT GEORGE!!! BIG UP JACKPOT GEORGE!!! ON THE PISS WITH JACKPOTTY <<PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARPPPPP>> G UNIT BACK ON AIRHORN...DUMDUMDUMDUMDUM 200BPM CLARKEY ON THE PIONEERS HAPPY HARDCORE WITH ORTOFAN STYLIII BIG IT UP!!!! <<PAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRP!!> JACKPOTTY GEORGE WINNING THE BIG SHEETS!!"


    "Right I've had enough of your nonsense. Mr. Rogers, do you know these dreadful louts?"

    JG spoke up. He could not reveal the secret double life. The collision of the worlds must not happen. This was a true work night. He had to blank off Jackpotty.

    "I've never seen them before. I'm slightly concerned as to how they know my name. Although I think they were lurking in the bushes, planning to sabotage the conference. I'm sure I recognise the tall one with the air horn. He must have overheard my name when I arrived."

    "NEIGH NEIGH It's all lies" neighed Key through his horse's head.


    At that moment the police arrived.


    "Alright gentleman, you'll have to leave the premises, you have no business here...please leave...."



    Law and order reigned once again and George, or 'JG' checked his watch. Hopefully in less than an hour he'd be in the Dog and Crumpet, eating a lamb bhuna and joining in the banter as CoB after CoB after CoB went cashpot bust cashpot.......BUST please Carol.
    [quote=deano8177]When I rang him I asked if I could play any of the gaming machines and he said no cos they keep getting fiddled. Then I said I'd be down soon to watch the football, and that I was going to shit in his urinal.[/quote]
    [quote=thecannonball89]If you go out on a friday night to play a deadmans and end up going out up town having 5bags of heavly cut drugs end up in the brothel, and wake up feeling like shit on monday morning sitting out a p3 dial trying to make bk ur losses of a 5am roulette sesion, your probly a player[/quote]

    :lol:

  2. #2
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    eye bleeder springs to mind............

    JG FOR PRESIDENT!!!

    why not come over to the dark side??

  3. #3
    Moderator mr lugsy's Avatar
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    i like this one from a thread entitled ; grand garbled gobbledygook.




    JG wrote:
    "It's not doing anything" tutted Steve in annoyance.

    "They've done something to it" he grumbled. Even Pauline wasn't listening.



    Then George popped in. Steve moaned at George.

    "It's not doing anything. 200 in and it hasn't lit up yet. It hasn't whistled, apart from a poxy four away. Full up from the off"


    "RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann at a volume that could kill.

    Steve moodily accepted the ticket and lurid condom coloured pen and carried on noncholantly pressing start. Dum dum dum. The reels humming, the Xs and Bars floating around.


    "This is disgraceful. I could report them to trading standards. This machine states clearly it's on 92% payout."


    "Hello Darling" cooooed Andrew as he flaunted flamboyantly and gayly past Steve, George and Pauline. He definitely wasn't talking to Pauline.


    "RAINBOW BINGO!!!" yelled Ann at a volume that would scare a deaf hardened Army Corporal.


    "No thanks chuck, hey has this one paid out yet?"

    "No. Jewy fucker. None of them have paid. This one has taken over 200. No whistles or bars."



    Andrew popped in a quid.


    There was a whistling sound. Wheep!-Whoop! Wheep!-Whoop!


    Steve's face contorted into thunderous anger.



    "Oooooh it must be my lucky day!" burbled Andrew, without being fat or sweaty, but every so slightly....happy.



    "It's huuuurble hurrble Time" announced the machine.



    Carol popped over.


    "I never understand this one. It's so complicated. You've got three bars, what does that mean?"


    "It means he's a jammy git" laughed Steve, his laughter twinged with agony and mild resentment.


    Industriously the 35 chugged up on the red LED. Andrew popped in a quid. 1.00........0.50.........another trio of yellow biscuits bounced into view. Andrew shoved in some more coins.

    "It that any good?" asked Carol.


    "If winning 70 off 1 is good, then that's good" said Andrew....

    "ISN'T it you sexy beast?"

    I had a horrible feeling that Andrew was talking to me, as Pauline had gone around the other side to play a Magic 10. Perhaps he was talking to Pauline. I mean that would be.....a little bit.....errr...gay wouldn't it otherwise. I mean. Hmmmm.


    2.50.....a flicker.....a flutter and 2.00


    Another representation of bars.

    "Fucking fucker fucker" said Steve, summing up the situation with perfect eloquence.

    The red LED clounted up to 105, chugging away like a procession of gay people doing the Conga.

    "Dooo doooo doooo" sang Andrew happily.


    "RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann in a voice that would make a shell shocked senile Brigadier reveal his best emptiers.


    The green LED rose to 105 before autopaying.......2.00......flicker.....flutter... .....1.50........


    Some more bars!!! This was some serious spawn.


    "I've not seen it do that for a while" noted Pauline

    "Has it Steve? not done it for a while, nor for you George......how much did you put in it last week?"


    "Loads.....over 300 I imagine."

    "He never did!?!" minced Andrew.

    George noticed he didn't say darling.


    Deja vu as another credit break and more bars.




    We were all frozen to the spot. Maybe some more spectators joined us. It was pretty spectacular. Coins gushed out of the hopper periodically and it just kept taking those credits and the jackpots kept coming.



    Tony closed shut his briefcase and had a quick word with Emma.

    "I've put in one of those Dr. Who style hoppers into the hurble hurble game. Ok?"

    "Dr Who style hoppers?"

    "Yeah it looks like it holds only 250, but it actually holds 250 zooglion pounds."

    "What's a zooglion?"

    "I haven't got time to explain. I've told Carol and she knows all about it, plus the quantum space time dynamics behind the hopper's operational logistics. It's in the Hurrrble Hurble Game three. Carol is an expert on that....."


    "....RAINBOW BINGO!!!!!""

    "Who is that fucking lunatic who keeps shouting about bingo?"

    "I've no idea, she's got a Shipley's uniform on."

    "hmmmmmmmmm. Maybe she's a sp...."


    "RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann

    "Fuck me, that's loud"

    "Hell yeah...see ya later..."


    Emma disappeared into the office. Carol's brain melted as the logistics of hurbly hurble game quantum zooglion hoppers became a reality. In actual fact a later post-mortem showed that the realisation that bars paid 35 and Xs paid 5 and that a combination of both wins could be paid via a credit breaking streak caused the meltdown.


    Meanwhile the coins kept on gushing.


    "I'm going to need these changing....look they're filling up the tray."

    "Quit moaning" moaned Steve.

    "I've never seen anything like it" said Pauline.

    "Harbla harbla harbla harbla" said Patsy.

    Even the Hill Sisters were impressed and spun around cross legged, very fast on a spinny chair next to the Elvis machine.

    "JACKPOT!" said someone.

    The red LED chugged, yeah chugged up to 280. Another relentless credit break. By this time the whole arcade was watching. Even the one spawny bloke who turns up on the one day of the month that the Vamp hasn't been picked to death and proceeds to rip four jackpots out of it from a fiver. Even he stopped to watch. Even Andrew had to admit it was ridiculous. Surely it was broken. 315, 340, 375, 410......this was just rude. Even PMK couldn't lay claim to a 410 and STILL GOING repeat pot. No way on God's earth.

    "It's ludicrous!!" he gurgled ecstatically before mouthing 'sexy'. Hmmmmm, perhaps Patsy had caught his eye.



    Meanwhile in another dimension.


    "HEY! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!!"

    "Mr. Fluke...please be quiet." chided the Scottish lady.

    Theresa tutted to herself in the cash office. Mr Fluke, or Mr. Flynn as he was actually called to people who didn't mispronounce his name, was being a nuisance.

    "HEY NO!!! YOU'RE CHEATING" bellowed Mr. Fluke (we'll call him that for now as it's more apt in a story about gambling).


    Mr. Fluke was of course bellowing at a poisoned apple, pictured within a budget s34 AWP.


    "Last credits please Mr. Fluke..." the Scottish tones wafting over the slightly too loud music.



    Mr Fluke was going to have to teleport (walk) to another dimension.


    He plodded past a naked lady on a horse, a Primark and a hotel, a Hills, a McDonalds and walked through the doors.



    SLIP! CRASH! BANG! He fell over on some pound coins.


    "Sorry!" called Andrew, "My fault. I can't scoop 'em up in time and Emma has locked herself in the cash office as she's not changing these."

    "HEY!!! I'M CLAIMING COMPENSATION. YOU CAN'T DO THIS" boomed Mr. Fluke as he passed out unconscious, the swelling tide of coins sweeping his body outside Club Release into the path of a taxi, a chav and a Bendibus.


    "This is ridiculous" Steve groaned, suffocating within the increasing dense atmosphere of pound coins.

    "This reminds me of playing What's in your box? on Hotel Street" said George.

    "What's that George? You sexy beast!"

    It seemed the pound coins were causing Doppler muffling reflex audio echoes and the name Pauline had become distorted to sound like the name George. Either that or Andrew was being very gay and camp.....No surely not. Anyone who sang along to Wham must be a red blooded male through and through.


    Still the machine payed and payed. The ring road ground to a halt. The suberbs started to grind to a halt. People were in a state of panic and ecstacy. Here was untold wealth, the prblem being you could only scoop so much of it up and then, before you knew it, you'd be six feet under in a big gold underground world where you could see nothing only hear some faint music in the background and some maniac shouting RAINBOW BINGO every minute or so.


    Next to ASDA a chap also called George was blowing smoke into the face of a woman spunking cash into a Deal or no Deal. Some coins started trickling through the door. It wasn't long until The Goose was subject to the same sort of treatment. Those lucky enough to be able to get to a computer could make out the central part of The United Kingdom as a big mass of gold on Google Earth. Ppffft not again, said the staff at The Goose.

    The the crossing from Dover to Calais became a sea of gold, then a footpath of gold then a mountain of gold. Europe, then Asia, Africa, America, Australia, both poles became gold.



    There was a credit break. The LED chugged gayly up to 100,000,0000zoooglebooglewooofruglymooglyfucktast icllyspooglyion,000. More bars.



    It was then Ann realised she was in the wrong shop.

    "RAINB.....no hold on...this isn't Shipleys......" oblivious to the coins she stomped out the shop, ripping out the power cord.

    The music stopped. The coins stopped.

    Andrew switched the machine back on andpressed collect. The hopper spat out all the coins bar one....

    Wwhhhhhrrrrrrr....brrrrrwwwhwhwhh.....whhhhhhrhrhr r

    IOU 1.00


    "Emma!!! It needs a refill" cried Andrew.

    "It needs a refill darling." he said, his voice sounding as if it was aimed at me.

    "Jammy bastard" said Steve.



    Then the world imploded in on itself, the collosal weight of coinage too much to bear. Everyone died. The End. Apart from Ann who somehow survived and has called to some Aliens(p4 ones that john32 had'nt yet lost on) in a far, far away Galaxy. They now all happily play bingo at half past the hour.


    Yellow 2 and 7. 27. We do have a winner. Please hold on to your tickets whilst we verify this claim for 1 of tokens. BEEP! BEEP BOOOP! Take me to your leader.

  4. #4
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    JG smokes more than he sells.....

  5. #5
    Moderator trayhop123's Avatar
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    obviously and shamelessly my personal fave has to be the one coming to my house for a game of cards (also cant be arsed to dig it out) .



    and one of my favourite lines from another of his posts was ,,,,,,, along the lines of chavs in a seaside arcade forming a human chav pyramid to shark you ,,lol,,,,,,,,,,,, it just conjures up the image in your mind , and ya cant stop giggling :P



    a genius of wordplay no doubt ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,



    BUT ,,,,,,,, and i hope he doesn't mind me saying this (ive said it to his face anyhow )

    a tragic waste of vocation on fruits , for an intellect so rare , that if he only applied himself more , could have risen himself to the top of any chosen academic field .
    Little discipline = BIG issue

    **** ****

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    you can f-off if you think im reading all of that!
    condoms... ribbed for her pleasure! turn it inside out and its ribbed for my pleasure :)

  7. #7
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    I sometimes think that when i see a JG post, but its always worth the read!

  8. #8
    Senior Member Nixxy's Avatar
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    Hope you don't mind me posting this one JG, originally posted in, er, 'another forum' early last year, before the 70JP had hit the streets:

    Quote Originally Posted by JG - Sunday 26th April 2009
    Hello. Started off in the town centre at my favourite Cluedo. Someone had left 10p in a redundant ashtray thing near an old speaker inside a small boot in a flowerbed next to the drip trays. I happened to espy this silver temptress and loaded that baby up into the Cluedo. It rolled in cherries and gave super feature up to one feature above 'the feature'. I wasn't sure if this was the free board or not, toyed with collecting but when I accidentally pressed lower than a 1, it only gave the zero didn't it!?! I knew then for sure, that this was the freebie. It went for a decidedly mediocre 70 and sure enough I got Cive us some glue a few 10ps later. I was feeling so lucky I hit this blindfolded with the extreme point of the cuticle on my big toe. Naturally I got MS which went for a cool 70! I knew there was more value but I didn't want to be greedy, so went to the next pub which had Jackpots that Rock 'n Roll and a What's in your Box in there.

    Straight onto the JTRAR and a lovely 2 first press
    Easiest and quickest 105 ever.
    Thought I'd try some more boardage, cost 2 for a Super Silly Stop that I messed up for 20, no bother, next board was red JTRAR for a 70. Decided, reluctantly, to leave it.

    I tried a 1 into the Wiyb but it kept giving the dial on 10p play and not letting me on, so I thought it was dead until I accidentally switched over to 50p play and it slow rolled in red 7s + dial and flashed for MS. This went for the obligatory flat 35 until I realised I had no credit in. Someone had dropped a 50 note, in fact a bundle of 50 notes near the base of the machine. Careless. In fact it was more than careless, it was bloody inconsiderate. Notechangers don't take 50s, so I had to feed another 1 in for the multiple breakers which put the bank up to 68.
    Next board cost 20p, for a superhold onto numbers. Flash, alas only 35.
    Then a quick dial board for a ripped 35, landing on multi add it added the other two Mega cups for a ripped top. Then a couple of win stoppers for 10 and 15 before it started blocking at 2 and giving the dial again which went up for a couple of MS on the deal or no deal.

    Then onto a Jailbirds that was 5 starting, cost a whole 18 to get the 105, probably won't bother with that again.

    Next hit was a Star Wars. I had a good feeling when the old boy at the bar said it had been offerring Wild Streak for the past 50 of credits, but the chef kept missing it. Sure enough it went straight in for SW which paid 70 and next board was a 22.60 cashpot, which I collected and ran.

    Then a quick stop in the arcade in the town centre. Onto a Golden Game that was full and 2 in it whistles. Drops in the bars and takes a credit. Bars. Credit. Bars. Then mystery for a 114 pot. Gutted, I carry on and get a hold after nudge on the feature. Turns out it was still paying and I get another 65 repeat pot. Then it rolled in bars, held for bars gave some Xs, autopipped for 45 then autopipped for 35 and against my better judgement, I decided to leave it.

    I was about to try player two when an old granny put in a 2 coin and it whistled for a fiver. Jeeez, some people have all the luck, I hope the old bag rots in hell. Thank God it didn't hold or else I'd have been right narked at missing that. Player three was good for a quick, cheeky 232 repeat pot and five sets of bars, all off a 5 note.

    I was just about to leave when I tried a 1 in Rainbow Riches. Don't play that said a person. Ok I said, but I'll just try a quid. It has just paid out 500 there is no chance in hell you can win again on that totally random lucky machine said the person. Not a chance. Sure enough it rolled in two pots a load of jackpots but somehow I only got three jacks for 50p. I decided to double it to 1. The button got stuck and it went 2,4,8 I was crying stop STOP! I WANT TO COLLECT! 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, then the button came unstuck. I decided to bank a small amount and gamble the rest to jackpot. It shortpayed by 224.

    Whilst I was waiting for my payout I tried a 1 in Reel King and got the five ding streak where every credit you get the board. Made about 500 then it rolled in some 10s for 4, the button got stuck (is there a cheat on these?) and I accrued another 250ish win.

    Had to buy a briefcase from the department store next door to carry all the coins and notes in. It was good, as it took the heat off me playing and made me look like a worker.

    Popped into the Frog and Crumpet and they had two Hi Lo Silvers and Five Poker Faces.

    Straight onto the Poker Faces and 105 all bar one stubborn git which paid 70 off 69. Won't be bothering with those again. There was a gaggle of chefs on the HLS, so moved onwards.


    Decided to buy a lottery ticket, doubt the numbers will all come up. Seems these days it's only four or five numbers you get at a time. My days of getting six numbers have long gone. Used to happen all the time last year, but my luck has died down a bit. Still a nice little earner.


    Then I went to Weatherspoons and they had seven Gamesnets with C4 on each one. All full. Made a slow 500ish.

    Found a HOF boarding every other credit, but seemed a bit dead. Only managed twenty six Mega Streaks before it finally died.
    Then a Mummy which took 10 to start redding up, so by usual standard obviously dead. Took eight 10 toggles off a fiver and left it - absolute garbage, only 65 up.
    Found an Extreme '25' giving the three icons off the first spin. Kept give 100 full tops. Blatently on its arse.
    Then a Duff Beer Guide so dead, it had to be hi/lo gambled for 'welcome to The Duff Brewery' it didn't give it on feature entry - must have been absolutely murdered. Got a handful of Moe's Taverns and left with a disappointing 200 profit.

    Finally, last hit of the day, a Monopoly Hot Property. 1 in COB for 35! Easy, so easy in fact I tried the Al Murray and got 12 shots on trebles on 50p play with double darts. Three Bullseyes for a 140 Meqa Streak.

    I was reluctanct to go home, what with all the reasonable luck and that, but I had to get back to check my coupons on Betfair. I had Man U to win, Man U to win some more, Man U to win again, bloomin' Man U AGAIN, Man U, Man U, Manchester United to win and Man U to win. For a 1 stake I had a return of 1.56 on this accumulator.....get the f*** in there sports fans.

    I'll probably take a couple of years off playing now. The game's not what it used to be.

    Cheers,

    JG
    This machine may at times offer a choice where the player has every chance of bankruptcy

  9. #9
    Banned
    Join Date
    Oct 2014
    Posts
    185
    wasted an hour decoding this
    Last edited by fatbloke; 09-05-2016 at 07:19 PM.

  10. #10
    I was bored, but not bored enough to read this!

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