The only thing worse than being beaten, is being beaten with your own fist.
I was organised enough today to bring my copy of Santiago to Ian's and Andy, Robert, Stuart and I tucked greedily into its forbidden pastry.
Andy "I'm a cock-knocker" Hynes grabbed a significant lead in the first few rounds exploiting the turn order and manipulating his gimp (Robert) perfectly. For some reason I bubbled up as the clear leader and no amount of discussion on the merits of kicking Andy in the giblets would convince the other players to give it a go. As the game progressed Stuart 'crazy-boy' Winchester seemed to be pursuing some strategy the gods alone could understand while Robert 'the gimp' Gilmour bent over and took several more for the Hynes team; even after I pointed out that he was doing so. Maybe I should have sucked up the pile of schuck Andy was funnelling my way and tried to slip a win under the radar at the last minute; but at least I can blame my second position on the poor gaming skills of my fellow players. Result!
It was 9:30pm and Ian 'timewarp' Smith suggested a 5-player game of Shogun. I was planning to be tucked up in bed by 11:00pm and suggested it might be a bit on the long side, however he assured me it would be comfortably over in an hour and a bit. Two and a half rather enjoyable hours later we were still playing and the next day my not inconsiderable good looks were negatively impacted by my lack of the old dreamy time.
The game began with Ian establishing a clear lead foolishly building a lot of early palaces and painting a big red target on his not insubstantial buttocks. After the first year scoring he had a 7 or 8 point lead and was the obvious target for some major beatdown. So I organised a tag team to try and claw him back however he did a good impression of a floppy shark: claiming unsportsmanly conduct on our part while grumpily planning the final bollock-rending victory. By the second year he was much reduced but a subtle and wise seed of the tower (not a euphemism) which he copied from the master (me) gained him enough momentum to cruise to a comfortable victory. I jogged home in joint second with Andy, while David "I've a strategy honest" Grier tailed us for a close fourth while Robert farted limply in a (very) distant (and embarrassing) fifth.