13 Jan 2007
Two games. Ten people. One room. Dear God, help us all ...
Team A: dynamic, drinking, dangerous and disruptive.
Team B: "So .... what's the money for?"
A rare moment of inter-team synchronicity: a victory salute reverberates around the room.
The messages says "get her" in case you can't read it. Not sure if this is threatening, or camp.
Woah. That's nasty.
Andy T writes a shopping list on the secret message pad. Time for a mid-WoT chippy run.
Ben bragging about a stolen 500m note.
The bank of arse.
The Andies discuss getting out the extra balaclavas ...
Oh my god! Rabid lunacy ensues.
Classic 'team photo' formation. Lovely.
Ben, going, quite literally, ape shit.