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Well it finally came to pass. Just like watching a slowly moving truck coming towards you yet not being able to move out the way, the inevitable board was brought out for a game of Moose, to the cheers of the crew and the screams of our livers.
The following is the best that can be put together from broken memories and ruined souls.
The game began with 5 competitors, The old pros Mick and Dave, and the relative newbies Ben, Gaz and Rob. Adam was the official Moose adjudicator (finally putting into use the 7 years he spent at Moose college). Joe, fearing invasion from a canal tramp we passed earlier, tooled himself up with a variety of weapons. To start the game off gently the Moose cup was filled with only what ever the unfortunate victim was drinking at the time. Ben, forgetting to pay attention, was twice caught out by excellent throws by Gaz and missed the call of Moose. The cup was then filled half and half with John Smiths and Strongbow. Rookie Ben found his distance (eventually managing 5 Moose cup hits in the game) and Mick was the first recipient of this noxious brew, swiftly followed by Gaz. Dave was the first to add a rule so from now on everyone had to prefix every name with brother or sister, which gave the game a slightly rotary club vibe. by next the stakes were raised as the saki was added to the cup. The game progressed a while without a Moose until the evil mistress of Moose luck pointed at Ben. From here on end things go very hazy. A rule that anyone victim to Moose could toss a coin to either pass the cup to another victim of their choosing but risk losing and having to do a double Moose. Gaz twice was saved by this rule, Rob being the unfortunate focus of his waith. But the karma of Moose can be a cruel and fickle beast as Gaz's luck finally ran out and after a double Moose had to declare himself out. A brave fight. By now the Moose cup was at its most dangerous with gin, ameretto and saki held within. Ben was the bearer of this poison and, summoning up the powers of the lord held this foul broth down (this would come back to haunt him later). The game carried on till only Rob and Ben were left and due to running out of alcohol (and staring death in the face) called it a draw. The traditional end of game vomiting was then had by all to round off a thoroughly painful game of Moose.
There are no winners in Moose. No winners.
Guest edit by Rob here - I was not sick at any point and therefore declare myself the winner. I have nothing more to add because I have lost the ability to think. Every time I try I just see a framed photo of a walnut whip, and a pot mash. But instead of mash, it's full of butter. And instead of being in a pot, it's in space.
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