Thursday evening. Next door.

“Well I don’t believe a word of it,” I snorted, as I weighed up whether to be satisfied with conquering the continent of Australia or whether to mount a sneaky additional raid on Madagascar. “I have never heard of this ‘Virgin Vie’ party thing.”

Big A rolled the dice and annihilated my armies. We agreed it was highly unlikely that the girls’ evening really involved demonstrations of cosmetics and face creams. I poured another large glass of wine.

“Let’s face it. It’s an Ann Summers party, isn’t it?” I observed.

We nodded angrily, the undoubted truth dawning on us. We are unaccustomed to being lied to by our spouses. Short Tony attempted to sweep his armies into Europe via Iceland, but was repulsed.

“Well I just hope it doesn’t go on too late,” I stated. “I have a Very Important Meeting tomorrow, and the last thing I need is the LTLP crashing home in the early hours carrying all sorts of probe implements and demanding to be pleasured.”

“It’s disgusting,” agreed Short Tony.

Big A handed in a set of cards, and proceeded to destroy my African presence. Despite some canny dice rolling my interest there was at an end. We reflected on their sad evening, as we enjoyed our board game.

“Even now, she is probably parading round your living room in a rubber basque.” I shook my head in annoyance. “Like a common whore.”

We were now extremely annoyed by their behaviour. I made an abortive raid on China. We poured some more wine.

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