TOURNAMENT #7 - Chuck

Twas the tourney before Thanksgiving, and all thru the condo party room, not a creature was stirring, after the cops arrived.  Jesse called it too.  He said, “the cops will come for sure!” and he was right. The cops crashed our last tourney a grand total or FOUR times.  There were approximately 15 people left in the tourney at that point, and Chuck was cutting thru them like a butcher at a butter convention.  The cops asked us to keep it down, then literally ONE minute later they were back telling us we had to leave.  We trekked upstairs (with all 1000 pieces of the tournament parceling) and all crammed into Keith’s 300 Square foot apartment.  I don’t want to say it was small, but we had to eat the large pizza we ordered outside.  I mean, I’m not saying it was small, but when he shoved the key into the lock to open the door, it broke out the back windows.  I mean, you could say it was small, as he used a match to heat the entire placed, but we survived.

 When it got down to it, there were quite a few new faces at the final table.  Chuck, Keith, Brunger, Chris Brown (oh wait, he’s been there before).  Even George made the final table if you can believe it.  Red was there again, as was Geertz.  Yours truly was knocked out by an enfuego Chuck with, get this, K2.  I had KK, and he had K2, called my all in (doopus), and then sucked out the flush on me.  BASTARD!  Well, Chuck continued his unbelievable luck and mowed down people like Bugsey Malone at the St. Valentines Day Massacre.  When it was over, and the smoke had cleared, SIX hours had passed (easily the longest tournament to date), and Chuck had 11 nametags.  He walked away with easily $300+.  I believe the last player he faced was Brunger, and actually had a good hand for once.  Pocket sixes, and the trip on the flop to take the tourney.  It was sick, and disgusting, and I am ashamed to be a part of it.  Friggin Chuck!

 I have pictures in a disposable camera I left at Keith’s house, I’ll update them ASAP.

See ya next time.