PISSFLAPS OF FIRE - The Dice Manager Rolls Again!

[Vic Flange]

The girl settled back on the stage, pulled her knees up and spread her legs. The golden jet of pee shot into the air, and she caught it in the wine glass she had clenched between her teeth. A ripple of applause smattered around the dingy basement club. Then, below her cunt, something moved. He saw it, looked again, trying to focus. Yes, it was the tortoise head coming out of the shell.

Dirty Barry turned towards the bar and shouted: "Alessio, quick, she's going to do a fucking shit!"
De Merida dropped the cumpled Euros on the bar, grabbed the beers and dashed back to the table. By now, there was clearly an inch of turd protruding from her bumhole. The trickle of urine was slowing, and judging by the clenching of her buttocks, doing a shit was not part of the act. She had lost control, and was fighting to keep the faeces in her gut.

KJAC grabbed his beer and said: "What a fucking great day. We beat the zombies, saved humanity, and now a stripper is going to cack herself in front of us!"
The three drained their glasses as the girl's attempts to keep her sphincter closed finally failed, and the long turd snaked out into the spotlights that illuminated the podium, and lay centre stage, steaming.

***

Of course, I didn't see any of this. Most of the lads had crashed out in the old changing rooms, and apart from the few who had ventured into town, I was the only one awake. Earlier the lads had been talking about going back to Cordoba and having another crack at reaching La Liga. They figured that the townsfolk would forgive them when the knew they had beaten the undead and saved humanity. I knew nothing of the sort was going to happen, and I for one was not going back.

I finished making my list, and picked up the dice. As I shook it, I looked down at the options.
1 - Start a religous cult based on drug abuse and nudity
2 - Join the circus as a lion tamer
3- Cycle around the world
4 - Do voluntary work in Africa
5 - Go to sea
6 - Return to England and sign on
I had made sure that there was an option that included a bit of risk. There was no way I wanted to help the starving bloody Africans.

The headlights picked me out as I sat outside the old building, and my instinct was to drop the dice. I looked down for a second. It looked like a 2. I screwed up the paper and quickly stood. Who the fuck was this?

The school bus stopped, and De Merida, KJAC and Dirty Barry appeared. De Merida asked: "Do you like the wheels, boss? I liberated it from town! Some bird did a shit, and well, we had to get back so I took it!"
He wandered off muttering as the other two giggled. They disappeared inside, so I took the chance. The bus would get me out of here, and the lads ... well, they could fuck themselves!

I was under the dash, connecting the wires when Dirty Barry returned. He had left a carry-out on the bus. He saw me and asked: "Going somewhere boss?"
I told him to fuck off and tell no one. He grinned and said: "If you're off on some adventure, count me in boss, please?"
I figured I could dump the useless cunt at some point, but before I could stop him he was gone, and returned with KJAC and Alessio. They were like kids going on a trip.

Suddenly KJAC asked: "What about food?"
Alessio smiled and turning to run said: "Gimme ten seconds."
He returned clutching a fistful of sausages, followed by Spav. I had the engine running, and snapped: "Fucking hell, do you want to bring any more of the cunts?"
De Merida shrugged and said: "Sorry boss, be he'd tied the sauages to his cock. He woke up when I was pulling them off."
As they climbed aboard Spav said to him: "You were trying to wank me off, you big poof!"

KJAC shouted: "Wait!"
He scrambled off the bus and started to walk towards the road. I slowly followed, inching the bus forward, ready to make a dash for it come the chance. Then he stopped and scooped up a handful of ashes from where the zombies had fallen. He thought for a moment and scooped up another handful before returning.
I asked: "What the fuck have you got there?"
KJAC replied: "It's Tommy Tit boss. Well, one of them is. I can't remember where he was when he crumbled. I promised him boss. I said if the zombies got him, I'd make sure he got a proper burial."

We accelerated towards the road. The roar of the engine woke the others, and as we hit the gravel they appeared from the building, waving and calling for us to wait. Dirty Barry shouted: "Stop boss, the lads are all here now."

I pushed the accelerator to the floor, and muttered: "Fuck them, and fuck you lot too."
I was looking for a circus, and when I got there I would have dumped Dirty Barry, Spav, De Merida, KJAC and the fucking ashes.

This was my fucking life; a life of lion taming awaited!

[Nath Boy]

Great start, can't wait for the next update already.

[theo]

Class - Am I in it?

[Dr Barry]

Glad to see things are rolling again, I was gutted when the first restart got killed off in the crash.

[Vic Flange]

Originally Posted by gooner theo

Class - Am I in it?

I haven't got a fucking clue who he's talking to.

[theo]

Originally Posted by Vic Flange

I haven't got a fucking clue who he's talking to.

Sorry Victor, I should have made myself more clear, am I in this story?

[Vic Flange]

I was kipping in the back of the bus, having a rather spectacular dream where Nigella Lawson smeared my loins with mashed potato, when the voices awoke me. KJAC babbled: "Fucking hell boss, look who's here!"
Dirty Barry shrieked: "He came right up out of the ground boss!"
I focused my sleepy eyes and saw two more players, well, ex-players, because they had crumbled to dust when Zombie Cordoba had been defeated.
"Tommy Tit and Joe Bloggs, how the fuck did you end up here?"

De Merida crossed himself like some aged Italian Aunt seeing the Virgin Mary, and said: "We buried their ashes boss, in the grounds of a small church in the woods."
Spav hissed: "Consecrated ground, boss, think about it."
I had no desire to think about it, and explained it as such. Well, actually I just told the cunt to shut the fuck up. I wanted to get rid of these bastards and pursue my own dream, but instead the squad was getting bigger.

Eventually Dirty Barry decided we should move on, and climbing into the driver's seat, he fired up the engine and then shouted: "Okay, where's the fucking map gone?"
The general flapping around that followed clearly indicated that no one had a fucking clue where the map was. Dirty Barry shouted: "You tossers, I left it under the fucking seat!"
I said nothing. I had gone for a shit during the night, and I wasn't going to wipe my arse on nettles for anyone.

We drove on, and as the sun set we arrived at a small town. The only shop that was open was a small kebab house; the worker looked like a fucking retard, and was wearing a Besiktas shirt.

As I walked in he smiled brightly and said: "Yes sir, what will it be? Doner or Shitty Kebab? My name is Mert Arken, and I am how you say, the Besiktas hard man. I mean hard, as in dangerous, not like the hard willy I get when the little boys get changed, yes?"
Spav had followed and asked: "Have you got anything other than kebabs?"
Mert gave him a thumbs up and said: "Yes sir, shitty kebab to go please! Chilli sauce?"
Spav repeated his question and Mert thought for a second before replying: "Yes sir, we have pickled trotters."
I said: "Oi, Turkey boy, I thought you fuckers were Muslims."
Mert replied: "No, not Muslim", and then he spat, the flob landing in the salad.
Dirty Barry muttered: "Shit the fucking bed. I'll have a doner, with no fucking salad."

I asked: "What are the kebabs made of, pork?"
Mert snarled: "No, no pork, only lamb."
I asked: "Lamb with trotters?"
Mert Arken Laughed and started to prepare the kebabs, singing to himself.
"I am loving Besiktas,
Loving it like a beagle,
Like a beagle loves cigarettes,
I am loving it as a black eagle,
We chant and scream and make some noise,
Fingering all the little boys,
Stab the Fernebache scum,
Let men do spunk-juice up my bum..."

Tommy Tit said to Mert: "Do you like football? We're the team from Cordoba. Well, we're what's left of the team. I was a zombie, undead and all that, but I'm better now."
Mert turned and said: "You are a team? I am a striker!"
I snapped: "We've got a fucking striker, just finish the food, okay?"
Spav said: "No boss, we're all defenders except Barry, who is a midfielder. We need a striker."
KJAC chipped in: "I can play up front, box to box, that's me, box to box!"
I snarled: "I'll box your fucking head off in a minute. Who is in charge here, eh? That cunt isn't coming with us, okay?"

After we had collected the kebabs, Mert promised to show me a place I could buy some dice. It turned out to be his sister's house, and she took the dice from a game her children were playing. As the kids sobbed at the premature end of their game, I paid the slag - who had a right droopy moustache - and we headed off into the night.

The kebab repeated on me all night, and in the moring I realised that Mert Arken was still on the fucking bus. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe we should have just one more season. Just one more, and then I'd go lion taming. One thing was sure; the folks of Cordoba wouldn't want to see us again, so where could we go?

I clutched the dice in my hand, grabbed a sheet of paper, and started to make a list.

[Vic Flange]

Originally Posted by gooner theo

Sorry Victor, I should have made myself more clear, am I in this story?

No, still no clue you fucking nonce case.

[theo]

Sorry knob-jockey, but it's impossible to be a nonce when you're thirteen

[Goody]

That's the worst excuse for molesting toddlers I've ever heard.

[Vic Flange]

Originally Posted by gooner theo

Sorry knob-jockey, but it's impossible to be a nonce when you're thirteen

Some one give him a hand or he'll be the first corpse!

[theo]

Originally Posted by Vic Flange

Some one give him a hand or he'll be the first corpse!

But who will be the murderer? You seem pretty certain that I'm going to be the first corpse . . . Liking the story, anyhow

[Costy750]

Originally Posted by gooner theo

But who will be the murderer? You seem pretty certain that I'm going to be the first corpse . . . Liking the story, anyhow

I'd read the previous thread if I were you.

I'll top him if you like boss. That or hold your coat...

[Spav]

Originally Posted by Vic Flange

Some one give him a hand or he'll be the first corpse!

gooner theo, the boss likes it if you suck up to him..... er, show him some respect, I mean. I suggest you refer to Vic as "boss" or "gaffer" or "your majesty" if you want to get his attention, otherwise you will most certainly die a horrible death with strange things inserted in your rectum as you do.

[Spav]

On the road again,
I just can't wait to get on the road again,
Playing football and cooking corpses with my friends,
And I just can't wait to get on the road again.

[theo]

Originally Posted by Spav

gooner theo, the boss likes it if you suck up to him..... er, show him some respect, I mean. I suggest you refer to Vic as "boss" or "gaffer" or "your majesty" if you want to get his attention, otherwise you will most certainly die a horrible death with strange things inserted in your rectum as you do.

Yeh, well everyone knows that the gaffer has a 13 incher and females drooling at his feet. Can I have part of my ear bitten off in a curry house car-park brawl?

[mert]

Besiktas...

[Dj_Luca]

Originally Posted by mertearkan

Besiktas...

I laughed out loud when I read the part about Besiktas

[Vic Flange]

Originally Posted by Vic Flange

Maybe it was a sign. Maybe we should have just one more season. Just one more, and then I'd go lion taming. One thing was sure; the folks of Cordoba wouldn't want to see us again, so where could we go?

I clutched the dice in my hand, grabbed a sheet of paper, and started to make a list.

There was a clue in there for you lazy bastards, and not one of you reacted. Shit the bed, I remember when we had men in here, not just little boys. Okay, I'll do it for you, but no complaints when we end up going around the fucking houses!

[DeceptivelySlow]

Sorry boss, I haven't been around. I say we go to Holland. The ease of access to whores, drugs and trusting yet innocent schoolgirls marks it out as the sensible choice.

Boss.

[ItalAussie]

Sorry, boss. Next time we'll come up with something more promptly.

Incidentally, I hear Australia is a great destination. How does that strike your fancy as one of the options?

[Vic Flange]

We had parked up in the shade, and I quickly scibbled a list of potential destinations.
1 - Africa
2 - Asia
3 - Europe
4 - South America
5 - North and Central America
6 - The laughingly entitled Oceania

Up front the lads had quietened down. I looked up and saw that they were gathered together in a crowd around a young girl. She was the first female they'd seen in a few days, and a bit ugly too, but the lads were undergoing a testosterone surge, so I wandered down to the front of the bus to find out what the fuck was happening.

Dirty Barry was leaning back in the driver's seat and had an obvious hard-on. The fact that he kept on whsitling at the ugly girl and stroking it didn't make it any more subtle. Spav was salivating so much his shirt was soaked, and De Merida blushed and seemed short of breath. KJAC kept on stretching and flexing his muscles, and Tommy Tit was repeatedly putting his arm around her only to pull it away again, slightly embarrassed. Mert had obviously already ejaculated, judging by the stain on his Besiktas shorts.

Joe Bloggs sat a few seats back reading the newspaper, and when he saw me he grinned and said: "Flies around a honey pot, eh boss? What's more, I think that honey pot has got a cock!"
I looked more carefully. Not only did the girl look ugly, she also had an adam's apple and a five o'clock shadow.
Tommy Tit asked: "Boss, can we keep her, please, she's so pretty."
"She? I think you'll find..."
Before I could finish, the lady-boy-man-lady-thing stretched out her hand and said: "My name is Louise, Louise Betts, and I am a lover of back door group action!"
Dirty Barry already has his trousers at half mast, but I shouted: "Get that fucking fruit off the bus and let's go."
"Where are we going? I love long journeys!" squealed Louise Betts.
Spav muttered: "I love journeys too, especially when the pigskin express pulls into tuna station."
"You mean chocolate station" shouted Bloggs, before bursting out laughing.

Spav turned on Bloggs, and De Merida used the chaos to stuff his hand up Louise's skirt.
Louise smiled and said: "All aboard for some cocktastic spunk-fun!"
Alessio shouted: "Lads, she's a he, she pisses standing, she's got..."
"A cock!" Bloggs shouted, as Spav realised what was going on and slumped into a seat, sulking and trying to supress his stiffy.
Dirty Barry switched on the engine and I concentrated on my list, clutching the dice in my hand.

A few miles later, Dirty Barry shouted out: "Where to, Boss?"
I moved towards the front to give him instructions, and realised that the transvestite travesty was still on board. He was busily cleaning off the make-up, and next to he/she/it sat Tommy Tit, fighting back the tears.
He saw me and muttered: "Boss, I miss Louise; now we've only got Lewis."
The gender-bending ponce smiled at Tommy and said: "Don't worry sugarplum, Louise will come back soon to see you, I pwomise!"

I snarled: "Oi, Trixi-fucking-bell, what in the name of cunting Jesus do you think you're doing on the bus?"
Lewis Betts explained he was a striker, albeit a transvestitie one, and started to extoll his own virtues. Bent and boring; he could have played for Arsenal in another life!

I punched him in the side of the head, which seemed to shut him up, and carried on to talk to Dirty Barry.

He asked: "Where shall we head, boss?"
I said: "Okay Barry, we're going to ..."
"What?"
A passing lorry had drowned out the final words.
I repeated myself.
He slapped his side of his head, catching his ear, and then shook his head and asked: "Can you repeat that boss, I didn't catch a word of it?"
I got close to his ear and shouted: "Take us to ..."
The sudden sounding of the horn drowned out the word, and Barry swerved to avoid a line of young children crossing outside a school.

This was no fucking good, so I wrote the destination down, and showed it him. He raised his eyebrows, then nodded, then laughed, and then gave me the thumbs up!

We were on our way.

On the way back to the seat I was sure Lewis Betts was fellating Tommy Tit. I made a mental note to give that fucker some hard times in training. I'd break the fucker, or I'd kill him trying!

[Lewis]

Classic.

[Costy750]

Can't wait to get in on this. Being smuggled in as a transvestite will take some beating, even for the monumental (stress on the final 2 sylables) imagination of the esteemed boss.

[Dr Barry]

Makes me nostalgic for Exile. Now there was a captain and a half.

[Vic Flange]

Originally Posted by Dr Barry

Makes me nostalgic for Exile. Now there was a captain and a half.

Interestingly, as I wrote it I remembered her role as the breasticled man!

[Spav]

Fuck me, with Dirty Barry driving the bus we may end up anywhere, let alone at the destination that Vic has written on his piece of paper. Come to think of it, can the dirty bastard even read?

I'm not necessarily voting for Oceania, but it must be one of the few areas that Vic hasn't fucked with on his many stories. Mind you, I'd like to see Barry drive a bus from Spain to Australia without drowning us all in the ocean somewhere.

I'm making a call and suggesting it's 1 - Africa, boss.

[Costy750]

Originally Posted by Spav

Mind you, I'd like to see Barry drive a bus from Spain to Australia without drowning us all in the ocean somewhere.

I smell transexual angels swooping down and carrying us....

OK, I'll give Michael Jackson his nose back now...

[Vic Flange]

The next few days on board the bus were uneventful. The lads slept, or talked bollocks or squabbled or tried to persuade Lewis Betts to dress up as Louise again. We left Spain behind us, evading the angry mobs that had formed to drive us out of the Catholic country following the debacle that was our time as Cordoba! We crawled across France, generally avoiding the unwashed locals, and eventually we crossed the border in Belgium and headed into Brussels. Here we were, at the heart of the European Union. It seemed the best place to start.

I had rolled a 3, and this meant that we were staying in Europe. Thank fuck, as the plan to get transsexual angels to fly us over any stretches of sea was, if anything, a little tenuous. Now all we had to do was work out where in Europe we were heading.

I left the lads in a side street bar tucking into lager, mussels and chips, and made a few enquiries. Armed with directions I headed off to the library, where I sat and compiled a list of European countries. I'd carried out this task 12 months earlier, but I was fucked if I could remember the process. I had to start afresh.

A few hours later my work was done and I hit the streets. I stood looking both ways, trying to think. Had I approached from the left or the right? It had been the right ... no, the left ... right ... left ... bollocks!

I wandered slowly through the maze of side streets and alleyways, and found myself on a narrow lane between the backs of two terraced buildings. As I approached the middle, I realised that a small group of people were blocking the exit. Now, I've no mind to run from a fight, but my senses were warning me that this was different, this was proper trouble.

I turned to retrace my steps, and realised that the other end of the lane was blocked as well. There was fuck all to do; I just stood and waited, ready. Both groups seemed far away, and despite running toward, their size didn't seem to grow. Then it dawned on me. They were fucking dwarves. I was being mugged by bloody midgets. I relaxed and prepared to stomp on their oversized heads, but when the two swarms came together with me in the middle, it became obvious that I was fighting a losing battle. Each one I took down was replaced by another. Soon I was overpowered, and the little cunts piled onto each limb, pinning me down.

An ugly little cunt stood over me, holding a razor sharp hunting knife. He cackled like some possessed creature, and leaned towards me. As he did, his head exploded into a shower of blood, gore, brains and bone chips. Then I saw the fat bloke, wielding the axe. He struck again and the midgets scrabbled away. Fuck me, that was a close call.

We sat in the bar. He introduced himself as Jimmy Millen. I ordered him another sandwich and another beer. He snarled at the waiter: "None of that fucking left-wing brown bread, and no mayo either, I know you fuckers cum in it!"
Apart from owing him a debt of gratitude, I liked the lad's outlook. I asked him about the dwarves, and he explained.

"It's this place Duke, the EU has fucked it up. The pen-pushers get such hideously high expenses cheques, they need something to spend it on. Drugs, drink, hookers, gambling, shit like that. Then the normal stuff got mundane, so people started to push the boundaries. Fucking dwarves was all the rage, then people held dwarf wrestling bouts, then you had dwarf baiting in pits with dogs, dwarf and badger battles, anyone with an expense account was judged by how many dwarves they owned. But time and fashions change. Now its Muslims, they fuck them, fight them, hunt them with dogs; there is a warehouse on the edge of town where they hang them from their feet and gamble on how long it will be until brain stem activity ceases. They just let them die; sometimes it takes fucking weeks."

I swigged my beer and asked: "And the dwarves?"
He shrugged and said: "People just chucked them out. They turned feral. I always say that a dwarf is for life, not just for Christmas. You were lucky. Sometimes people disappear, and a few weeks later their bones turn up in litter bins - low ones of course! That's why there are so many bins on walls, higher up. It's stop the dwarves dumping body parts."

I paid the bill, and thanked Jimmy again. He said it was okay, the sandwiches were thanks enough.
I asked what he did for a living, and he said: "To be honest, Duke, I shovel shit!"
"And if you didn't shovel shit?"
"I'd be a footballer, a defender."
I offered him a place on the team. It was always good to have someone you could rely on. He accepted the offer, saying: "Thanks Duke!"
"Okay, and just one thing Jimmy."
"Yes Duke?"
"Call me Boss!"

Back on the bus I looked at the list one last time.

1 - THE RICH - England, Germany, France, Italy, Russia, Serbia
2 - THE POOR - Bulgaria, Czech Republic, Holland, Hungary, Poland, Ukraine
3 - COUNTRIES THAT SHOULD NOT EXIST, AND ARE REALLY ANNEXED PARTS OF MORE POWERFUL COUNTRIES - Croatia, Northern Ireland, Scotland, Slovenia, Slovakia, Wales
4 - EUROPEAN COUNTRIES THAT AREN'T REALLY IN EUROPE - Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, Sweden
5 - BORING COUNTRIES - Belgium, Austria, Ireland, Portugal, Spain, Switzerland
6 - COUNTRIES WHERE THE WOMEN HAVE MOUSTACHES - Greece, Israel, Turkey, Romania, Croatia

I clutched the dice in my hand; it was time to find out our fate.

[ItalAussie]

I definitely hope we roll a 4. Iceland would be an interesting destination. Failing that, causing some Belgian havoc would be worthwhile.

[Goody]

I'm holding out for Israel. Vic visits the Gaza Strip. Suicide bombings optional.

[Lewis]

Originally Posted by ItalAussie

I definitely hope we roll a 4. Iceland would be an interesting destination. Failing that, causing some Belgian havoc would be worthwhile.

Havoc is banned in Belgium. Only cycling, home brewing and cow tipping are allowed.

I'm hoping for Northern Ireland.

[Vic Flange]

Originally Posted by Lewis

cow tipping

"Thank you very much for standing in a field; here's ten Euros!"

That sort of thing?

[Dr Barry]

I'm just worried that if Vic rolls a five we'll end up back in Cordoba, I doubt we'd survive a week.

[Costy750]

Originally Posted by Dr Barry

I'm just worried that if Vic rolls a five we'll end up back in Cordoba, I doubt we'd survive a week.

Or in Switzerland, where we'd die of apathy.

[Spav]

I hope its 2 -THE POOR, then we can be heroes of the oppressed working classes.

[Lewis]

Originally Posted by Spav

I hope its 2 -THE POOR, then we can be heroes of the oppressed working classes.

Balls to them.

Lazy twats.

Pull yourselves up by your bootstraps and get working!

[Dr Barry]

I hope we end up in Holland, I hear they burn Tories there.

Wait, Holland are in 'The Poor'?

[Vic Flange]

Originally Posted by Dr Barry

I hope we end up in Holland, I hear they burn Tories there.

Wait, Holland are in 'The Poor'?

Poor in spirit. They wear wooden cunt shoes, eat rubber cheese, live in a swamp, have a Queen with a penis and practically beg people to sodomise their children. In the big book of knowledge that Duke Reinarse carries around in his head, they're poor.

Okay?

[Dr Barry]

Okeydokey boss.

[JimmytheBlue]

Roll on Mr. 3...

"Welcome to Northern Ireland, Now fuck off"

[Costy750]

Originally Posted by JimmytheBlue

Roll on Mr. 3...

"Welcome to Northern Ireland, Now fuck off"

God. Duke Rheinarse vs Iain Paisley....

[JimmytheBlue]

Originally Posted by Costy750

God. Duke Rheinarse vs Iain Paisley....

Could be just what the new assembly need...

[Vic Flange]

Where was I?

Dice in hand?

Oh yes, I suppose you feckless cunts want to know where we're going next, don't you?

I rolled it ... it's ... oh, it fell off the table.
What's this on the floor ... fucking hell, when did I roll that?

The dice? The dice can fucking wait.

[Vic Flange]

4
Countries that are in Europe, but aren't really in Europe! As there are only five on the list, we'll insert a fucking extra - a restart!


1 - Denmark
2 - Finland
3 - Restart
4 - Iceland
5 - Norway
6 - Sweden

The dice, as they say, are feeling fluid ...

... it's a 3


Bollocks! Now, let's start again!

[Vic Flange]

Back at the beginning, let's hope we can get this over and done with.

1 - THE RICH - England, Germany, France, Italy, Russia, Serbia
2 - THE POOR - Bulgaria, Czech Republic, Holland, Hungary, Poland, Ukraine
3 - COUNTRIES THAT SHOULD NOT EXIST, AND ARE REALLY ANNEXED PARTS OF MORE POWERFUL COUNTRIES - Croatia, Northern Ireland, Scotland, Slovenia, Slovakia, Wales
4 - EUROPEAN COUNTRIES THAT AREN'T REALLY IN EUROPE - Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, Sweden
5 - BORING COUNTRIES - Belgium, Austria, Ireland, Portugal, Spain, Switzerland
6 - COUNTRIES WHERE THE WOMEN HAVE MOUSTACHES - Greece, Israel, Turkey, Romania, Croatia

And the dice says...

[Vic Flange]

2

Now, this time there is no fucking around, because we have six countries so we are going to end up somewhere!

1 - Bulgaria
2 - Czech Republic
3 - Holland
4 - Hungary
5 - Poland
6 - Ukraine

The dice is hot, the future - well, your futures - hang in the balance.

Ready?

Sure you're ready?

Really ready?

Hang on, I've run out of beer...

[theo]

Who needs beer when you've got a 12 incher?

[Spav]

Originally Posted by gooner theo

Yeh, well everyone knows that the gaffer has a 13 incher and females drooling at his feet.

Originally Posted by gooner theo

Who needs beer when you've got a 12 incher?

Yep, you're definitely gonna be an early casualty. We've hardly hit the road and already you've lopped an inch off the boss's schlong.

[ItalAussie]

Bulgaria sounds like a pleasant, welcoming sort of place.