By Natalya Jones
By County Grind
By Liz Tracy
By Chris Joseph
By Liz Tracy
By Matt Preira
By Jesse Scheckner
By Michael E. Miller
"Well, with a name like 'Charlie's Anals,' how can you lose?" I asked.
"That name is Rich's fault," said their slight, dark-haired female teammate.
"Well, it's a tribute to Farrah Fawcett, as she recently passed away," said Rich, who had a ruddy complexion and a shiny bald head. "Plus, his sister's team got the better name."
"What is it?"
He glanced at them with slit eyes of mock malice. "The Jackson 4."
Victory: Round six was news-related (Alonzo Mourning was the first player to have his Heat jersey retired, FYI) and a wipeout round, which somehow provided better chances for teams low on points. I tried to have Neil explain the scoring as the quizzes were being graded, but he was too busy laughing at everyone's wrong answers. Finally, the scores were tallied, and the sweet taste of victory — it tastes remarkably similar to free beer — was in the air.
Unceremoniously, Neil ticked off team names and scores backward, placing both If It Wasn't for That Bitch Yoko Ono, Paul Would Still Be in the Band and Charlie's Anals somewhere in the middle. The Oh Shit I Don't Knows came in third, Jackson 4 second (the Charlie's Anals demanded a rematch), and the Know-It-Ales scored the $100 bar tab. Coinciding with the announcement of the winners, Rich of Charlie's Anals somehow snapped the back of his chair and fell to the ground with a loud thump. He leapt to his feet quickly, blushing.
"Sorry, that's what you get after two free rounds of beer," he mumbled.
I talked to a couple of the Know-It-Ales: He was middle-aged with particularly owly eyes; she was adorable with long, black hair.
"Congrats," I said. "What's the secret to victory?"
"I think having a broad range of ages helps," she mused. "We all know the answers to different things."
"She's 25," he said, then pointed to a white-haired gentleman on the team.
"And he's like 50-something." The team members knew each other from their swim team. (Last pub quiz, they'd played under the name Drinkers With a Swimming Problem.)
"Better swimmers than cheerleaders," I said, remembering from round six that more female athletes die cheerleading than competing in any other sport.
"How you gonna spend that free bar tab?" I asked.
"Oh, last time we were here, our tab was $80," she said. "I bet we've already spent it."
Well, nothing better than kickin' ass and getting your booze free for it. The next time you're locked in a sudden-death match of trivia and someone happens to ask the name of Michael Jackson's pet chimp, say Bubbles. And, if to double your score, you can come up with the best place to go for a Sunday night pub quiz, the answer is Kingshead Pub.