Right-o, so I saw we don't have one of these going and I thought: NEVAH. NEVAH SHALL THIS BE. THERE MUST BE A MORNINGTON CRESCENT HERE, of all places. (for details: http://www.amazonsystems.co.uk/data/morn.htm .)

So. I'll begin with the typical opening gambit, shall I? Going to assume we're playing under the Winston-Chumley rulebook of '98.

King's Cross.

Is this with the reverse Polish notation?

No, no, no. It's very simple. Jacks are worth ten, Kings are worth three (apart from one-eyed Jacks which are wildcards, but we'll come to that in a minute). Round one you get a hand of nine, round two a hand of seven. Twos are wild except for diamonds, which retain their face value (except the king of diamonds, obviously). You play in sequence unless you can match a pair or play a card in ascending or descending order - that's a Go Johnny Go Go Go Go. You stand up, pick up all the cards on the table and shout “Go, Johnny, Go, Go, Go, Go!”

The winner is the one with the most tricks after fifteen hands, and you'll pick up the rest as we play.

*plays a Jack of Cups*

No, sir, it's not your turn -- you've forgotten that play passes pendulum-style from the dealer; for those of you unfamiliar, that'll be left to start, then two right of the dealer (or three from the first player to act in the preemptive round, if you're following the Egyptian tradition), then the subsequent number of nonces ('skips' if you're new but really, call them nonces or we'll all be sniggering behind our luchador masks) is dependent upon the number of players present divided by the median age of the group and then multipled exponentially with each turn by the relative average speed of a player's turn, following the general left-right pattern until the first thrice-contiguous overlap at which point play resets and we select a new dealer. Simple, really -- I'm shocked you forgot, given the way you swindled me out of my kidney last time we played. (Backalley game with illegal grawlixes. I ought've known better.)

Who's bank and who's bully in this game?

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BARK BARK BARK.

Can I be bully? I've got the hat, and the mousetraps.

HEY! What about all us poor ugly Americans who call tubes subways and boots trunks and bonnets hoods? This is rank discrimination! I demand reparations!

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Thank you.

And what about us Swedish-Central American transplants living in Scranton that call subways tunnelbanas, boots juaraches, and toxic waste mother's milk?

I play the ace of stars, and wager a sackful of illegally harvested organ grinders.

~CTP

And what about Canadians, who don't even really *have* card games? I mean, really! You expect people who live in perpetual night eight months of the year to spend their time on your crazy foreign games of nonsense and skill? We're busy trying to survive the winter cold on moose meat and maple syrup, not to mention hunting beavers for the fur coats essential to day-to-day living...

Fortunately, I picked it up from an exchange student in High School, so I'll spare the rest of the rant and offer to be banker.

I'm afraid I agreed to join a game of Charlie on the MTA some years back, and so must decline...

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Unofficial Improbable Island out-of-character chat is at irc.foonetic.net, channel #iisland - come on by!

Get the bank to loan you a nickel, but you'll have to play blindfolded and keep only three cards in your hand until you can pay it back.

Unless we're playing by Wallace's Rules?

Ah no, I believe we're using the Queen's rules, so yes, he can play regular, but half his points go to the player three to the left of the person who owes him the most money.

Also: Jack hearts, Queen stars. I bet Ashtu's dog.

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Isn't sanity just a one-trick pony anyway? All you get is one trick: rational thinking. But when you're good and crazy, oooh, oooh, the sky's the limit.

So there'll be no objections if I yarble the answard, so long as I gribble two tenways beforehand?

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The lunatics are taking over the asylum! Come with?

No objections from me, personally, but mind you catchbank the straphanger, before fastening your stepdad, and retreating two meters before the bowlmonk estranges the gangway.

This may in fact be the best game in the world. At least for the fans watching on satellite.

~CTP

I win.

But in the spirit of the game, I yield to everyone.

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Thank you.

As game initiator, I believe I'll clarify: Queen's Rules, Winston-Chumley '98 rulebook (make sure you're aware of the appendix notes on page 925, bottom footnote section B ), double-reverse Polish notation underneath the auspices of the Rolling Jack of Clubs with the nonce entwined as long as you gribble your bowlmonk first. That's the important bit- I want no chequered sideslinging in this game. Have we got that? Good.

Since it's Mornington Crescent II-style, I believe our Mornington Crescent can be the PSK, ImpCentral. Now can we actually start, after all this rule-quibbling?

NEPETA HALT.

*huffs*

Well, now, if I do remember the ruleset correctly, the most obviously superior choice would be for me to pick...

Nepeta Halt.

courtesy of The Once-Wiise Ashtu, who would happily relinquish this account to Johnson, if she would like.

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This space for rent

A rookie mistake, returning to the same station. Elias' Lucky Dip's not in this ruleset, so there's no use for it. If we were playing the Old Pittsburgh variant, that'd be a wise move, though.

The Terminus

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Isn't sanity just a one-trick pony anyway? All you get is one trick: rational thinking. But when you're good and crazy, oooh, oooh, the sky's the limit.

Colonel Mustard, with the revolver, at West Skronky Siding!

St John's Wood, due to the lack of MACKEREL.

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A table, a chair, a bowl of fruit and a trombone; what else does a man need to be happy?