Daisy here again, sorry not to have been in touch but since the club re-opened, things have been busy, I don’t know if I’m playing on line or live, so many games, so much fun! I guess most of you know, I hosts a fun foursome most Friday nights, with some refreshments and a lot of chat, but we still take our social bridge game serious just the same. Of course this week the talk naturally turned to the future of BOTE. Crystal Ball was keening away about how if things stayed the same the Club could be in default and Bette R. Bidgood, you know, poor Bet is a little hard of hearing, picked up and went on about it was not de fault of anyone, not the Board, not the members, everyone was doing their very best to get through this any way we can.
Crystal (my partner) mostly ignored her as she trumped my ace and said she had a good idea to save us all and slapped the Telegram on the table. We all stared at the article, "Mary Brown’s Chicken has bought naming rights to the Mile One Centre and will put a big 45-foot sign on the building”. I looked at her, as Crystal blurted out, “See, we’ll rebrand too and get Kentucky Fried Chicken to sponsor us and save our Club". “It’s KFC, now,” snickered Horace Scope, then to me, as I was about to take a finesse, “Don’t be chicken, Daisy!” But Crystal was still excited, “Okay, so we’ll call it The KFC-BOTE!”. “Get them to grease our palms,” allowed Horace pretending he was serious, then he gave me a big wink, egging Crystal on, “Okay, but if it still goes belly-up, we can say stick a fork in it, ha ha!” Poor Bet asked “What?" And Horace was off again, “Try to keep abreast of things my dear, guess I’ll wing this one,” as he bid 3 No Trump.
I was rolling my eyes as Crystal snatched the article off the table but there was no stopping Horace all night, “We got a leg up,” he chortled as he made game. Then later, “Fat chance you’ll make that, Daisy,” he clucked as he slapped down the Double card. Following up with “Cole’s Law,” as he dropped my doubleton Queen. Later on, he made a lucky slam, and he started licking his fingers, with every trick he won, “finger licking good,” he gloated, beaming like a Cheshire. The feathers flew after he endplayed poor Crystal, and cackled it was a coup. The game ended early that night. But if you come up with any ideas for raising revenue, give me a call, but please, don’t tell Horace Scope anything!