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Boked in his pringles!
This Darts Excuse submitted by Phil at 4:46 AM on 3/6/01.
Steel Point Darts (Thrown at a Bristle Dartboard)
Easties
walford, London
Practising down the local over a swift pint of Boddies (that's Boddingtons for all of those of you out there who are un-educated in the area of english ale), I had taken my stance, and was all set to finish on the maximum outshot of 170. Having seen the first two elegantly fly into the treble 20, I re-adjusted for the bull. The nerves were going. I began to sweat like a fat bloke at a rave. I stopped, I gathered myself for the greatest moment in (my) darting history. I threw. As I did, my mate (let's call him Ben Smith), who had been on the ale quite heavily all night, began to shout for both Ralph and Huey at the same time. Yes, he puked as wildly as Droz straight into his pringles. The sound of projectile vomitting only yards fron the oche put me off to such an extent, the dart flew into double top, rather than bull, leaving the double 5. Smith stepped to the oche, hit the required double top, and claimed the most outrageous victory since Manchester United claimed Football's (or "Soccer's) 1999 European Cup with two goals in injury time. Ben, you are a disgrace. Don't deny it!
