Fired up after our poor performance on the crappy tables last week, the Cobras were all in early - yes even CB - and in uniform - yes even CB - ready to wreak havoc on this week's opposition, the Grey Guns.
"Fire up Cobras" called Pick as he arrived, the Lucassi with all its various attachments bristling skyward like a farmer with a shotgun waiting for crows.
"Fire up Cobras" muttered Pup in reply as the Mezz potted balls with the speed and rhythm of a sewing machine.
"Fire up Cobras" whispered Hooters as she stroked ball after ball lovingly into the inviting holes that awaited them with her Stuart special.
"Fire up Cobras" said CB, flicking his thongs disdainfully towards the door and playing his pub cue through the balls as if he was dancing to an unseen samba rhythm.
"Fire up Cobras" intoned Diddy with a glassy stare, whipping his Meucci black dot back and forth through the clustered pack with wild abandon.
Time passed slowly as the fever built.
By the time 7.30pm arrived, the Cobras had fired themselves to white hot and were hissing with adrenalin.
But no opposition.
By 7.45pm the Cobras were spitting venom all over the tables, their cues and each other.
Still no opposition.
Diddy called Jase to establish if we had heard from them, as 8pm was officially the deadline for a forfeit.
Jase was able to raise the captain, who had mutinied and departed his own ship. He was no longer playing and didn't seem to care if the team was in or out.
Nor, to be frank, did the Cobras.
They hissed in frustration and spat their team fee into an envelope, taking a forfeit and max points for the round.
Next week they face the Lucky Commando's who hold 2nd spot. The week after they face the Lucky Breaks who lead the zone.
The rest might do them good...
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