Things were looking good, when the Donk flops a 10 with a King kicker but my Queens hold, felting the muppet. I guess I curse myself by trash talking old Coconut head...
He then proceeds to bust me in three consecutive hands, and I mean literally, one hand after the other.
Short on chips, I put the Rock all-in with four to the nut flush draw, but I fail to hit so double him up.
In the very next hand, we both call a pot-sized pre-flop raise, and we both hit the flop scaring off the pre-flop raiser. I hit a King with a Queen kicker, but the Rock hits a set of 3s.
In the very next hand (after pulling some cash from my pocket) I look down at pocket Kings and limp in. The Rock raises the pot and it feels like Christmas so I re-raise and tell the pillock to re-raise me for the rest of my chips, which he duly obliges considering he's sitting on pocket Aces. UN-FKIN-BELIEVABLE!!!
I wish the table the season's good cheer, with some choice ye olde english cussing... and storm from the premises, and home, in time for peak time television.
Bah Humbug...
2009 is the year when I aim to make the Rock actually cry at the table... and maybe even wee himself a little bit... it's my new year's resolution...
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