I BET MY DRAWERS ON FOUR ACES.

"NOT THE DRILL,ANYTHING BUT THE DRILL" I screamed, as the dentist and I fought like Suni and Shia in the surgery. Dental instruments and gauze flew everywhere, as the dentist grabbed me in a head-lock and dragged me towards the chair. I dug in my heels and yelled, "NOT THE DRILL. ANYTHING BUT THE DRILL!" I headbutted the dentist in the groin. He gasped but with a twirl of the toes, soon had me in a half nelson, I kicked and flung as he pushed me towards the chair of torture. "NOT THE DRILL. ANYTHING BUT THE DRILL!" I screamed. "Don't be a big baby," panted the dentist. "All you will feel is a little prick."
"I don't mind that." I leered, "BUT NOT THE DRILL, ANYTHING BUT THE DRILL." The dentist was pushing me closer and closer to the chair. What could I do? How could I get free? This was real life not a comic. There would be no, "then with a mighty bound she was free." I struggled, I wailed, I kicked, I shrieked, I flung, I screamed. Then I remembered an old wrestling trick I has seen on TV. I suddenly dropped to the floor, slipping out of the half nelson, then I shot backwards through the dentist's legs, hitting my head on something as I did so, but I didn't care, I was free, free. Then as I ran to the door to make good my escape, the wily dentist jumped on my fleeing back like a Tasmanian Devil. I was back in the clutches of the devilish dentist. "NOT THE DRILL. ANYTHING BUT THE DRILL!" I shrieked as we both crashed to the floor. He got a cut above the eye and I got a full syringe of Novocaine right in the ass. The dentist was down but not out, so I hit him over the head with a heavy book entitled, "How To Calm Patients Down For The Drill" and ran out the open door. I ran frantically down the Donegall Road screaming, "NOT THE DRILL, ANYTHING BUT THE DRILL!" A group of men working on the road looked up and said, "All right Missus, we'll use the shovels instead of the drill." I had to get home. I had to get home and throw myself into the arms of Tommy my cat. I needed-reassurance, I needed understanding, I needed--love. Then, the Novocaine began to work and my bum began to go numb. My legs began to move slower and slower as the paralysing drug coursed through my nether region, like an over dose of--Novocaine. I could hardly move my legs, they felt as heavy as lead. I conked out in the middle of the Donegall Road, standing like a statue, with one leg out in front of me. "HELP!" I yelled, "HELP-HELP!" Soon a crowd gathered and began to laugh at me. "You see Herbert," said a woman to her small son, "that's what happens if you get stuck into the red Biddy first thing in the morning." "Disgusting." said little Herbert, "Why the old slapper can't even walk." Then my Knight in shining uniform appeared. Sir Hugh Orde, leapt out of a moving land rover like James Bond and said, "ello-'ello-'ello, what's going on 'ere then?" Then he looked at me and said, "Stone the bleeding crows, is it you again? Wot is it this time?" I looked at Sir Hugh and yelled, "Numb Bum!" "Right," said Sir Hugh, "that's it. Throw the old Biddy in the back of the land rover, for insulting a member of her Majesty's constabulary." And that's how I got home. Sir Hugh thought I was calling him-Numb Bum. If I had said instead, "Overdose of Novocaine, I would be stood standing on the Donegall Road yet. Funny things policemen, a bit like tadpoles, only much bigger and unpredictable.
Tommy my cat, me and Steven Nolan were playing strip poker in the back room of the man, who rents the front room from Mrs Gannet. It was a high stakes game. All three of us were down to our underpants and simmets. I glanced at Tubby, trying to read his large, glacier-like face. He wasn't giving anything away, Tommy was wearing sunglasses, in case his little, glittering green eyes would give anything away. "Right" I growled, "this is the big one. Whoever loses walks out of here buck naked." A small smile played around Tubby's rose-bud lips. He grabbed it and put it in his pocket. Tommy's little furry knee was twitching. A bead of sweat ran down Nolan's fat face. 45 minutes later it reached his chin and clung like a raindrop from his massive visage. My guts were churning, and believe me, it wasn't butter. It was time to put up or shut up. Tommy turned his cards over first,--Four Aces. Tommy sat back with a smirk. Then Tubby showed his hand-a gasp went round the table--another four aces, now all eyes were on me, I kept them waiting and slowly, ever so slowly, turned over my cards, another--four aces.
As all three of us walked naked down by the City Hall, Tommy looked and me and said, "What are the chances of that happening-EH?"
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"NOT THE DRILL, ANYTHING BUT THE-DRILL!"