The Championship

I'll be quick about this 'cos I'm still hurting and I to get away from Ewan and his damn snickering.  Suffice to say shit went down but that's got nothing to do with me.  For those not in the know, I'm gassing about the bitch hot Screwball Scramble Championship and this year's final was a night to remember.  It was no '97 but there were some upsets that took down the strongest men I know.

It started off with some chuckles when Biffa Munchkin showed up with his Mouse Trap set and was systematically beaten as per protocol.  Then to kick things into motion Rubby Tumpish lost seven minutes on the log hoppers and left Budgy Cripper an easy route through to the semis.

Sufford Spatch went down to a wrist sprain after he overloaded his burger at lunch and Frankle Buthering got through on a technicality only to be bashed up the face with a swift circuit from Arnoldson Arnold Arnoldson.

By the time we hit the semis I was busting the sweetest moves I've ever scratched.  Being a mix master has its advantages and after I took down Spadgington Miller I was well on the way to victory.  That was until Little Tommy Worthing managed to take down Biffa after a by-ruling brought him back into the tournament.

During the final time out I could here Worthing gloating about his ten year winning streak but I knew this was my year and I knew everyone present didn't want him knocking Sir Desmond Claridge out of the record books.

The stress got to tenuous and so we had to hit the game.  We were both fine over the see-saws and after a shaky fudge through the metal rods we were neck and neck on the studded platform.  A loss of concentration allowed me to take a few seconds on the maze but the advantage got the better of me and I lost my head.

All I had to do was ease myself over the catapult and victory was mine but I panicked.  I fucking panicked that shit game to bugger and lunged that motherfucking marble halfway across the social club.  After Tommy's cheers had died out I found the ball in the G-spot of the damn dart board.  The shame.

Suffice to say I'm not doing well.  I lost my self-respect, my confidence and a title that should rightfully be mine.  I could see the disappointment on the faces of everyone in that room.  They had nothing else going for them.  It was up to me to take that trophy and end Worthing's spree but the moment has gone and I don't think I'll ever pick up another Screwball Scramble board as long as my days are ticking.