The engraver's whirring diamond-tipped nib hovers poised and ready. He's been practicing his "L" all month. Which is a good thing as it looks like he'll soon be needing two of them in immediate succession and that can be a tricky manoeuvre on tarnished, tin-coated plastic.
Mais attendez! Who are those 3 shady figures lurking conspiratorially just off-stage?
Bugger me, it's Trobby, Phil and, suddenly, Lee, sweaty after a fast-finishing uphill bike ride.
Each are 2 games adrift of Lloydy with 3 legitimately 50/50(ish) games this week and at least one other 'you never know' game. Death or Glory! It can be done, but who can do it?
Cometh the hour...
Speaking of Trobby, speaking of Demons (weren't we? Oh)... suck on this little beauty.
I was speaking with a time-worn Drunk a few weeks back who, I was surprised to discover, didn't realise that our very own Trobby is honest-to-god Metal Royalty.
You want proof? Glad you asked:
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