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Tonight, I played in a pool tournament. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm no pool shark. In fact, until the dude started reading out which team was playing which I was completely unaware that I was even in a pool contest. I'd just gone along because Fruan's dad is off to LA tomorrow and Bernie and the Jets (my dad's team, featuring (usually) my father, mother, Fruan and his dad) was down a man. So, after graffitiing university for an hour or so after my philosophy lecture, I am such a rebel, I went into town to the Dux De Lux's lounge bar, which at the time was full of homosexuals whom I half-knew. No sign of the crew...

Anyway, partway through the night, we were (supposedly) up against a team called The Hungry Elephants (as the night progressed I grew increasingly sure that the amount of seriousness with which Fruan and I were approaching the evening was just on the low side of average), and I leaned across to the guy about to take his shot and said

"Hey, are you guys real elephants?"

He looked faintly confused, then said


"Don't worry, we're not real jets either." Brief pause. "Except Fruan here."

We lost that game, and as we were doing so Fruan leaned across and whispered "Dude, I don't think they're the elephants." Turned out he was right, and they were actually The Short Straws. My, did we feel silly.

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