3.01 Watch It Don't Give You A Hernia

In 2010, a crack commando pool team was sent to prison for a crime they didn’t commit (OK, maybe we did it ). They promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade (Great Yarmouth Open Prison) to the Milton Keynes underground (you tell me!?). Today, still wanted by the EPA, they survive as pool players of fortune. If you have a problem, if no-one else wants to play for you, and if you can find them, maybe you could hire the RAFA Stingers.

The Story So Far: Back in the year 2007, when Muffin the Mule was a fondly remember childrens programme rather than a vile reality TV show set in London Zoo, The RAFA Stingers were not ones for sitting in watching the box. They were caught up in a tangled web of illegal betting scams, kidnapping, dodgy Asian Mafioso dealings and the trafficking of ferocious animals. Quite deep shit for a mob that previously had only stolen the odd shopping trolley from ASDA. For the full baffling plot read the previous posts – they’re even numbered for you. How good is that!

3.01. After 3 opening wins, The Stingers had set a good pace at the top of the table and were in confident mood of landing the Bangkok Kokbangers bet and thus securing the safe return of Zared. A couple of weeks of Singles competition meant a break from the stresses of mafia gratification. Or it would have but for communication from North Thailand. Despite being held captive it appeared Zared had been allowed an enormous amount of freedom on the back of his Stingers title tip. To say his captors were impressed by his knowledge of the game would be an understatement. They issued him with a quartet of pool playing gang members and sent him out hustling. These gang members just so happened to be voluptuous Thai beauties which made for great hustling. And being all trained in martial arts there was little chance of getting done over – except if he tried to escape.

Just receiving this email was a boost to The Stingers. But how had he managed to get it sent? As the correspondence went on it became clear Zared wasn’t as free as it seemed. The girls kept tabs on his every move, with two always on night duty whilst he slept – accompanied by the other two of course. To obtain the freedom to watch some western TV, drink some beer or send an email home he had to earn the right. TV involving giving one of the girls a seeing to, beer meant 2 of them had to get it whilst an email was earned by doing the whole lot. There was a tear in the Stingers eye at the dedication of their man. Four shags to send them an email. What a servant. The email finished “It might be a while before I contact you again. I’m sure you understand guys. One last thing, I’ve advised one bet to my hosts for the singles. Make sure D. Morgan….”. And with that the text stopped. Had the dopey git pressed ‘send’ a bit early? Had the girls censored the remainder? What bet could he have recommended? And more to the point – which D Morgan???????

Dog, Chapdog and Minimcgoogle spent that evening puzzling the problem down ‘The Shack’. Surely Zared couldn’t have been advocating a bet on big Dave? And he was just as unlikely to be tipping young Dan from mid-table ex-rivals The Hustlers. Dan had about a million Mcgogles to see off in the tough part of the draw and Dave was a million to one. Of course he could have just recommended a first round match bet on either of them. The uncertainty of it all weighed heavily on the Stingers minds. So much so that their practice night was ruined by a rampant newcomer dishing their asses off. He was duly signed up.

The Mervinator – aka The Barman Formerly Known as Merv – had shown promise before. At the Prestatyn Welsh Festival of Billiards in 1957 to be precise. But 50 years later he reached his true peak. Having given up on his dream of making the Welsh pool team, he re-adjusted his aims to ‘beating the Tuesday team’. That fateful evening he reached his zenith. Dish after dish sending whippersnapper after whippersnapper back to his seat. Was this the moment that The Stingers had unearthed a hidden gem that was underneath their noses all the time? Or was it to be another ‘Darren Cobley’ moment – a signing on the back of a couple of good frames and some bluster? Could the Stingers be so cruel as to drag an old man in need of a triple hernia operation into the line of fire with the threat of multiple Asian gangs hanging over them? Tune in for the next episode when another new recruit joins and the complicated plots becomes a bit more muddied.