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British Bulldog
2052 Stout St.
Denver, CO 80205
Mondays: 8:00 PM
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9:06 AM, May 21, 2013
Scores
Pick Your Dilly Pickles 96
The Piccadilly Twitz 95
Nerdy Sanchez (3rd via tiebreaker) 84
Mormon Nailed 84
I Hate My Job But At Least I Still Got One 82
Syria's Business 80
The QT Patooties 78
HMG Co-A Reductase 71
Mike's Amazing Sex Tape 63
The Combes 58
Paper Mache Teapot 44
Clever Squirrels...
That Guy in the Corner


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Quiz Schedule
Mondays, 8pm at the British Bulldog 		Mike (That Guy in the Corner)

Mike was a faithful quizzer for almost three years who finally fell victim to the siren call of becoming a quizmaster.  Translation: Getting paid to eat, drink, and joke at the expense of others was simply too much to resist.  Also, talking about himself in the third person is a major turn-on.

At first glance Mike probably qualify as more drink than geek, but he'll put his nerd street cred up against anyone brave enough to accept the challenge.  We're talking played World of Warcraft at a "WORLD CLASS" level here, people.  

There is, however, a soft spot reserved in his heart for good beer, bad puns, and obscure references so if you have any one of these to spare, come down to British Bulldog and get your quiz on!

I hope last night serves as a lesson to you all:  don’t make me call in other quizmasters, those fucking people are bonkers.  The Piccadilly Twitz had reigned supreme for 7 straight weeks and, tired of the lack of variety at the top of my spreadsheet, I decided to take matters into my own hands.  Knowing that Michelle Miller, Dallas QM extraordinaire, was coming into town for a visit, I suggested that they put together a crack squad of quiz commandos to displace our reigning champions.  This squad would be named Pick a Dilly Pickle and, for some reason, would be wearing squirrel masks.  And sheriff’s badges.  Brandishing toy guns.  Carrying half a piñata.  Waving a glowing butterfly wand.  I wish I were making all of this up.  In case you don’t believe me (and why would you ever), I have included photographic evidence of these hooligans.

 

Ellen Josh Leslie

Stef

 

So, I would imagine it goes without saying that we had ourselves an...interesting evening.  Not showing any signs of intimidation from our rodent masked newcomers, the Twitz settled in, ready to defend their crown.  After three rounds, both teams had only missed a single question and sat atop the leaderboard, tied with 54 points.  I haven't run any analysis, but I am pretty sure that there are teams who didn't score 54 points for the entirety of the evening; these people weren't screwing around.

As we came out of our second scoring break, Pick a Dilly Pickle had eked out a one point lead.  As they exploded into cheers, I tried to remind them that we still had two rounds to go, that they should probably wait until the reach the end zone to do their touchdown dance.  I'm not convinced any of them have actually watched a professional sports contest in their lives, so the analogy more than likely fell on deaf ears.  Round 8 came around, and after checking answers, we had a winner.  I double-checked my work to be sure that the results were accurate, and it was.  Pick a Dilly Pickle accomplished what they came to do, besting the Piccadilly Twitz by a single point, 96 to 95.  It was a hard fought, well-earned victory, and in a sign of respect, Michelle made her way to the Twitz' table to buy them a round of shots.  It was quizmanship at its finest, the way things should be done.

Another reign of terror was ended, another bounty was collected.  I'm not sure if our masked heroes will ever return, I'm not even sure if they were all sober enough to find their way home.  What I do know, however, is that I was a fan.  They had a certain je ne sais quoi about them that could not be denied.  Maybe it was the toy pistols, perhaps it was the decapitated piñata, it's hard to say.  If there weren't pictures, I would have a hard time beliving all of that actually happened.  We had some beers, we had some quiz, people made it weird.  See everyone next week.

British Bulldog
2052 Stout St.
Denver, CO 80205
Mondays: 8:00 PM
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10:52 PM, May 13, 2013
Scores
The Piccadilly Twitz 79
Syria's Business 69
Plump Chuck's Trash Dump 68
More Than Ok 62
The Velvet Merkins 61
Snowflake Lives 58
Spoiler Alert 55
Our Drinking Team Has a Trivia Problem 40
Miller, Texas Ranger
That Guy in the Corner


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Quiz Schedule
Mondays, 8pm at the British Bulldog 		Mike (That Guy in the Corner)

Mike was a faithful quizzer for almost three years who finally fell victim to the siren call of becoming a quizmaster.  Translation: Getting paid to eat, drink, and joke at the expense of others was simply too much to resist.  Also, talking about himself in the third person is a major turn-on.

At first glance Mike probably qualify as more drink than geek, but he'll put his nerd street cred up against anyone brave enough to accept the challenge.  We're talking played World of Warcraft at a "WORLD CLASS" level here, people.  

There is, however, a soft spot reserved in his heart for good beer, bad puns, and obscure references so if you have any one of these to spare, come down to British Bulldog and get your quiz on!

The Texas Rangers have a long and illustrious history of bringing villains to justice.  For nearly 200 years, the Rangers have faithfully served the citizens of Texas, performing all manner of duties from investigating murder and political corruption to protecting the Governor.  It is a proud organization, one famous for rough living, tough talk, and a quick draw.  Only the elite are allowed to join, but once they don the iconic Silver Star, they are Rangers for life, typically with no exceptions.  This is the story of one exception…

Michelle Miller was a hard-drinking, foul mouthed recruit from Fort Worth who was rumored to have spent her early years running with the toughest gangs in North Texas.  During her time, she organized over a dozen bank heists, pulled off at least three train robberies, and once shot a man in Plano just to watch him die.  There wasn’t a saloon within 300 miles who didn’t recognize her, typically from voice alone.  After a successful robbery, her tradition was to find the nearest watering hole, drink whiskey by the bottle, and make a man out of the nearest greenhorn that struck her fancy.  It was a tough life, but it was her life, that is until her gang turned on her in hopes of increasing their shares.

After being taken into custody, Miller snarled at the Rangers who shackled her, “You may as well kill me, because if you don’t eventually you’ll die by my hand”.  They gave no indication that she had even spoken, leading her to a back room of the town jail. In this room sat the Chief of the Rangers, James Bartleby, his sidearm drawn and a steaming mug of coffee on the table next to him.  “Sit down, Miller”, he said.  He took a long drink of his coffee, looked her in the eye, and began to speak.

“There’s not a man or woman in this town who would give a second look if I were to string you up and hang you right after Sunday services.  You know that, I know that.  But I’ve got an offer to make you, if you’re willing to listen.  And I think you’re willing to listen, in fact, I know you are.”

Chief Bartleby motioned to his man, who opened the door to reveal a small dog, muzzled with its feet bound.

“CHESTER COPPERPOT!   You harm a hair on his head and it’ll be the last thing you do!” shrieked Miller.

“Settle down, you cooperate and no harm will come to your dog.  We have a job for you, a job that is a perfect fit for your particular set of…skills.  There’s a gang up in Colorado called The Piccadilly Twitz who’s got the local folks living in fear.  They run around to various pubs, helping themselves to whatever they want.  This has gone on for too long and you’re going to be the one to stop them.”

“You guarantee that no harm comes to my dog, and I’ll kill whoever you say.  Just don’t hurt Chester,” growled Miller.

“Oh, I don’t want you to kill them, Miller, nothing of the sort.  I want you to beat them at their own game, pub quiz.  You think you can handle that?”

“If there’s whiskey, there ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.  I’ll be back in a week for my dog, God help you if you don’t hold up your end of the deal.”

“You needn’t worry about that, although I can’t guarantee his safety if you were to come back unsuccessful.  In fact, if you don’t win, I wouldn’t come back.  The only thing waiting for you will be a noose.  By the way, you’ll need this,” said Bartleby as he slid a small package across the table.  Miller opened the package and looked inside, only to see the bright silver star of a Rangers’ badge staring back at her.  “Welcome to the Rangers, don’t fuck up.”

British Bulldog
2052 Stout St.
Denver, CO 80205
Mondays: 8:00 PM
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Comment Now
9:45 AM, May 07, 2013
Scores
The Piccadilly Twitz (1st via tiebreaker) 80
Flying Jeeps (2nd) 80
Busted Unicorn & the Velvet Merkins 74
Revenge of the Fifth 69
Tyler is a Snowflake 67
Another Side of Ru Paul 60
If You're Old Enough to Crawl 54
Chris Brown is to Roughing as My Ex-Girlfriend is to Too Many Men On the Ice 52
DBNA 52
Knope's Angels 20
The Curse of the Silver Charger
That Guy in the Corner


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Quiz Schedule
Mondays, 8pm at the British Bulldog 		Mike (That Guy in the Corner)

Mike was a faithful quizzer for almost three years who finally fell victim to the siren call of becoming a quizmaster.  Translation: Getting paid to eat, drink, and joke at the expense of others was simply too much to resist.  Also, talking about himself in the third person is a major turn-on.

At first glance Mike probably qualify as more drink than geek, but he'll put his nerd street cred up against anyone brave enough to accept the challenge.  We're talking played World of Warcraft at a "WORLD CLASS" level here, people.  

There is, however, a soft spot reserved in his heart for good beer, bad puns, and obscure references so if you have any one of these to spare, come down to British Bulldog and get your quiz on!

I am happy to report that I made it home from quiz last night safe and sound (thanks Keanan & Stella!), which isn’t much of an accomplishment until you consider my recent string of luck.  Last Wednesday I was picking up some boxes from a generous friend for our upcoming move, when a wild telephone pole appeared and found its way into the side of my car.  I wish I had a better excuse, but I just don’t.   If I had known what evil awaited me, however, I’d have taken a bit more care to avoid the pole.  I am now the prisoner of a cursed vehicle, the Dodge Charger of (near) Death.

To make a long story short, since I’ve picked up this car from Enterprise, I’ve seen a Jeep Cherokee fly across a median and smash into the car directly behind me as well as a pedestrian run into the street and get hit by a car, flipped over, and lose his shoe in the process.  Somehow, all parties involved have come out of these incidents pretty well off.  Bumps, scrapes, and bruises to be sure, but considering the circumstances, those are pretty positive outcomes in my book.  In retrospect, I’ve determined that whatever malevolent spirit is haunting this car lacks a killer instinct, making me think that it’s a poltergeist.  This is all unofficial, of course, as I lack any recognized paranormal certifications.  The rest of my day will probably be spent researching the location of Dodge assembly factories and their proximity to Native American burial grounds, just to be safe. 

Choosing not to tempt fate, or my poltergeist, any further, I decided to procure transportation to and from quiz.  This would ensure the safety of my fellow Denver motorists for at least one evening, and also give me the opportunity to have a couple extra drinks to calm my shaky nerves.  They helped, as did the pair of shots that Jason, our new quizmaster at McCabe’s, sent my direction.  With a bounty on The Piccadilly Twitz in place, I was going to need to have my wits about me to ensure that the competition was administered fairly. 

The Twitz and Flying Jeeps were within striking distance of each other all night, with only one point separating them as we went into round 8.  Would the Jeeps be able to close this gap?  Could they even leapfrog the Twitz and end the bounty after a single week?  After the dust had settled, we were looking at a good old tie for first place.  Both teams went 5/5 in our first round of tiebreaker questions, forcing sudden death.  The team whose guess was the closest to the correct answer would take home first prize and the glory that accompanies.  As the answers came in, I looked, calculated, and determined our winner:  The Piccadilly Twitz.  The reign of terror will continue, for at least one more week that is.  Next week the bounty increases to $10 on top of the normal $20 gift card for whoever can take them down.  See everyone then, and be especially aware of your surroundings if you see a silver Dodge Charger near you on the roads.  Constant vigilance may be the only thing that can save you.

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