NUTZ ON YA TABLE: FBI raids my home game with a disgusting culmination

[NUTZ IN YA MOUTH]

After my chicanery in recent weeks, I decided to cut back and stick to seedy underground clubs. Not to mention, my home game, which this week, consisted of The New Cut Crew (Dannennmann and I had patched things up), Norman Chad and Lon McEahern, and a few others.

The night started off innocently enough, Norman Chad was out first when his Queens went belly-up to McEahern’s AK, leading Chad to exclaim “You win every f**king race!” and retire to the living room to snort some Moonlight Miles.

However, shortly after the first blind escalation, my front door was knocked down by federal agents. About a dozen. I was confused. “This is just a friendly home game,” I told one of the SWAT team members. “Yeah,” Norman Chad continued, pointing to his powdered nose, “and this is just sugar.”

However, I soon saw why they had come: Kathy Liebert emerged from the pack. “That’s the guy!” she screamed maniacally. “That’s the guy who stole my [censored] roll!”

I was put into handcuffs while my guests looked on in disbelief.

“You’re sure this is the guy?” a detective asked Kathy.

I looked deep into her eyes and saw them glaze over. She couldn’t do it. She still loved me.

“No,” she said dejectedly. “I musta – musta made a mistake.”
“You’re sure?” the agent asked. “Alright then, uncuff him and we’ll take you home.”
“No,” she said boldly to the agent, looking up at me. “I think I’m gonna stick around here and play the home game. If that’s OK, of course.”
“Not a big deal at all,” I told her whilst being released from the handcuffs.

After the agents had left and we scrapped chips for the new player, the game got somewhat debaucherous. Shots of tequila and lines of coke were pervasive. Dannenmann was off his [censored] rocker.

Kathy and Norman Chad retired to a guest bedroom. When they returned about a half hour later, Norman slurred that she gave better dome than his third wife.

Resuming the game, a bizarre hand ended the night. I had bluffed all my chips into Kathy with a board of AJ972. I had absolute garbage and was praying for a fold. Didn’t get it though. In fact, as she called, she exclaimed “I’ve got the nuts!” and threw her chips in, flipping over AJ.

Everyone was confused. “Kathy,” I said, throwing my hand into the muck, “You’ve got the winning hand, but two pair can never be the nuts. Any set beats you, a straight, or a flush.”

“I didn’t mean this hand, I meant I’ve got THE NUTS!”

What happened next will live in Home Game infamy. She unzipped her pants and plopped a pair of fat, hairy nuts on my poker table. For the first time in hours, the house was in complete silence, which was broken when Norman Chad projectile vomited all over the New Cut Crew.

It’s safe to say my home game will be on a hiatus.