The
wooden blocks crashed to the floor again.
Some
of the drinkers jumped in surprise, but the regulars didn't bat an
eyelid between them.
The
landlord smiled to himself as he stood at the end of the bar, putting
more pressure on his creaking belt with a packet of pork scratchings.
He'd spent a lot of money on the larger-than-life games for punters
to amuse themselves with and his pub was fairly packed considering it was
a Tuesday afternoon.
The
Jumbo Jenga was the most popular and the most noisy. He didn't mind
as long as it put money in his till.
“Oh
my God! Help! Call an ambulance!” a woman shouted from the opposite
side of the pub.
Her
friend was sprawled on the floor with what looked like a javelin
sticking out of her head pointing straight towards the ceiling.
The
landlord sighed and knew that Kolossal Kerplunk would have to go.
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