Now... it's time.

Modus confirmed busto.

Sorry guys, she will not be posting anymore.

bump

Over 2 years, this needs a proper conclusion.

Waiting for updates on this is so painful. Reminds me of chuckbass thread (gave up on that one though)

nodding my head in agreement i say nothing.

moreplease.jpg

picardwtf.jpg

sick cliffhanger :'(

Talked to Modus directly and he said he has no plans on writing another update.

What a dickhead.

GG modus. It's tough to find time to write or get motivated if you're busy. Enjoyed the story to date. Peace out!

RIP

Fill in for him if he doesn't mind.
Story definitely needs a continuation.
Took me quite a while to read all of it just yet, but I laughed my ass off.

Proof or gtfo. You aren't even the op and Modus is known to go months or years between updates.

yeah, that's totally the move I would have pulled if I were tired of people bumping the thread

Lol he must be so damn tired of it. It probably effects his whole life and the relationship to his family and pets.

After reading your comment I started to feel really guilty about him, don't know why.

pretty sure heyjustinitsn8 is fake

phuck off n8!

do you stake anymore?
Thanks
Daniel

This is great. Confederacy of donkeys.

"c'mon let it be good phucker! one time, just one time!!!!" i scream out as i climb onto my chair as the old man releases his hands from the cheques in the middle of the felt.

the collective energy of the room has converged on our table. seeing the mound of chips in the middle of the table and understanding the gravity of the situation my heart skips a beat.

towering over everyone and looking down at my opponent i holler out, "what u got?!?!"

"i called you." the old man calmly replies.

"phuck it!" i scream out, as i can't wait any longer. squatting down i flip up my ochos + 6 kick and stand back up with my hands running through my spa treated conditioned hair. seeing the appalled look on his face as realizes what i've shoved with i clap my hands together and shout, "lawl cats! did i just butt-pwn ur azz with fourth pair no kicks brah?!?"

shaking his head and mumbling incoherently the old man sits in his chair looking from my hand to the board, then back to his face down hole cards. letting out in an inaudible laugh he slowly shakes his head one more time as he turns his gaze towards me. seeing the excitement spread across his face the old man breaks out into a creepy, disturbing grin. taking his hole cards in his hands he slowly turns them over and snaps them down on the felt.



Boom. The nads.





A Q


Upon seeing the nad flush i'm feeling like (a more jacked and better lookin) houdini for real. the unexpected blow to the rock solid core even leaves me short of breath. unable to sputter out any obscenities i instinctually fire every muscle in my body in a blind rage. losing control of everything i quickly move to a single leg stance and seamlessly pirouette 180 degrees, turning away from the table. with my body as stiff as a board i slowly fall backwards, crashing onto the table below.

***thud*** the chips shake below the 235lbs of twisted shredded spray tanned steel that is my bod. the room quickly breaks into silence. before anyone can react to whats just happened, i make my next move. like a child in the crib with righteous anger, i wildly flail my limbs across the table, intentionally knocking over everyone's stacks of cheques and dispersing them across the floor. making sure to give the old man's stack a good kick i send his chips flying upwards at his fat head and follow it up with a swift kick to his sweet plums.

the mix of agony and surprise on his face makes it well worth it as he slowly keels over grabbing his grapes. i quickly find myself under my feet and survey the area for the security goons that are no doubt trying to run up on Modus. Completely focused in I hear nothing around me as the adrenaline surges through my bod. Then, out of the corner of my eye I see them closing in like oversize fat raptors with down syndrome.

Seeing these ex-high school offensive lineman bum rushing me in their $30 sport coats makes me sick, phuckin jokers. Standing tall on top of the table I know escape it futile, casino security, while ******ed, is -ev to mess with. I gotta waive the white flag here.

As I begin to take off my shirt the security goons slow down in confusion as they begin to surround me. Feelin like Eddie Norton I put both hands behind my head and with a satisfied smirk i slowly drop to my knees.

2sick.

looking up at the high limit room i see steve bilirakis watching in awe with a bewildered smile across his face. i feel my nads tingle.