The Angie’s Room Trilogy - By Miguel and Clive
Part 1 - Under every bush there is a flush
Under every bush there is a flush
Cuntspoker brethren, I’d like to share with you all a rather disturbing tale about a private poker game that took place two years ago, which until now has been suppressed in the darkest depths of my mind.
It all began when I received an anonymous letter through the post, scented with female-ejaculate, from a Lady identifying herself as Angie. In the hand written letter she claimed that we shared an affinity for poker and the dark side, with the words ‘dark side’ punctuated by a body print of her obviously shaved snatch to represent the commas.
Included in the envelope was a Polaroid image of her naked, with her breasts perched atop a copy of Phil Gordon’s Little Green Book of Poker. Not much of a looker I thought, but hey... inside every bush there is a flush!
After apparently learning of my penchant for bizarre sexual practices through my bi-weekly sexual health column in the Norfolk Evening Standard, my mysterious new pen pal wanted to invite me to a secret location on an industrial estate in Newcastle Under Lyme, on that very night, to be inducted into Angie’s room - a secretive poker players society where the poker world’s sickest fucks go to have game of poker.
There was an address in the top right-hand corner of the letter with an instruction underneath to knock twice. Towards the bottom of the letter ‘15% off the first drink’ was stamped in black ink. In beautiful calligraphy below that, the name ‘Angie’ was signed in afterbirth, followed by three kisses daubed on the paper in human faeces.
Initially I was offended by the crude ‘sick fuck’ phraseology, it’s so much more than that I lamented to myself, but my disappointment soon dissipated as I was overcome by appreciation for the creativity and effort that had gone into the invite, and I don’t mind telling you, it didn’t hurt to see from the photo that she had spent that little bit extra and bought the hard back copy of big Phil’s seminal work - with the plastic dust cover no less!
So I hopped onto my Raleigh Chopper and was there within the hour...
The Angie’s Room Trilogy - parts 2 and 3
I spun around to be greeted by an abomination which was stood up at it’s desk, with it’s hand out to shake mine. I couldn’t help but notice the unfortunate denim skirt. She had the sort of figure that made it look like she had put it on upside down, and corn beef legs with the early signs of varicose veins.
“Aye. I run a tight ship, make no mistake. If any of the lads get out of line I’m very much a belts off, trousers down, bend over sonny, this will hurt me more than it hurts you, up the arse, Flower of Scotland belting out, style of disciplinarian. I won’t be doing this forever mind, one day I’ll return to the Glasgow Folk scene as the prodigal son when ‘Flower of Scotland – The Anal Remix’ hits all good Our Price stores.”
Part 3 - The invite said there was a 15% discount on first the drink