Wave of Mutilation

So there I was, walking down the street in the SCOOP low ME on stars. I’m super card dead in the first couple of hours, barely getting by. I bust some dude with a set vs. his 99 on 678r, things are looking up. I go card dead again and we start to get close to the money. Then something ridiculous happens. Not just any individual variable, but every variable lined up to create this gigantic mass atomic head exploding flesh splattering bomb of retardation. So how did this wryly spun classic go? Lets take a look eh?

One of my opponents, who we’ll call Dillinger (this is nothing near his actual name, this is a sweet ass pop culture reference designed to amuse probably just me, but if anyone else gets it that’s cool too :D) decided to STALL THE LIVING FUCK out of his time bank. THE ENTIRE 3 MINUTES WORTH. We were still like 100+ people or so out of the money, and maybe that’s totally standard as I’m not really an MTT guy, but it seemed ridiculous. HE DID NOT tank once, he tanked twice!!!! SAM I AM GREEN EGGS AND SLOWPLAYING DILLINGER THAT SHOULD HAVE JAMMED.

MP opens, Dillinger SMOOTH CALLS w/15 bb. (nobody uses smooth call anymore, where’s the love?). Let us be perfectly honest. Nice and sparkling clear, NOBODY THINKS YOU HAVE AIR MR. DILLINGER. anyone with half of a brain in their head KNOWS you’re obv snapcalling any sort of jam, you don’t just tank forever and flat with 15bb ready to dump napkins you saucy tart! :D

So I miraculously have aces. That’s right, American FUCKING Airlines. ROCKETS baby. BULLETS that Dillinger CAN NOT DODGE! So I squeeze-jam for about 17bb. I’m pretty happy because I know he’s never folding. I know he’s got a snapcall waiting in the weeds like that vampire kid in Salem’s Lot that shimmied up to his friends window in the misty fog light and was like YO DUDE IT’S COOL IT’S ME YOUR OLD FRIEND OPIE (I still can’t believe that kid opened the window, I mean come on dude, he’s FLOATING in mist, if my friends show up floating in mist I RARELY let them in because I KNOW some shady shit is going down, THINK MCFLY THINK).

Anyway, I JAM with AA, and he goes into the tank for his remaining 2 minutes. During that 2 minutes of time, enough people bust out that we’re literally down to the bubble, 3150 out of 20k people get paid, and we’re at 3159 or so when his timer hits 1. HITS 1! He obv calls.

He turns over AK of spades, NO SURPRISES HERE!

Now we can go into that slow motion gut wrenching emotionally charged part of the story where we’re on the edge of our seats as the flop slowly descends upon us like an alien invasion and we can only watch frozen in terror, too cold and confused to run for our lives, as all of the KINGS come storming out of the deck like agents of obivion to crush our aces. That’s right. K K 3 or was it K K 6. I didn’t see the 3rd card on the flop because I was too busy picking bloodstained glass out of the skin on my fist and wondering if I hit someone with my AC unit as I punched it out the window (I’m overplaying this blog post in case you were wondering, this part never happened).

I was crippled. Crushed. I had like 2bb left. I had 99 next hand. I called it all off vs. JJ and bricked out.

That was that. I was gone on the bubble. I slowly faded away, a breath on the stacks of those who witnessed this tragedy, a smile on the devilish grin of Dillinger.