After this, since there were four of us, we decided it was the perfect time to play San Quentin Kings. This game of absurd jargon and feeble art has been hovering at the edge of the table for several weeks now. But it’s never been played, since it would inevitably cause other gamers to be jealous as we fought over drugs, bribed people, went to the gym or hung out in the cafeteria before having a jolly old riot at the end of the game.
The game is a bit Puerto Rico-ish in that when someone chooses an action, everyone gets to do that action. You can fight,or work out in the gym or bribe people. It’s such an accurate reflection of prison life that I started calling people “Fletcher” and banging my tin mug on the bars of my cell (that I had to bring with me).
That was all I did, though. My final score was so low, that it was more or less what you’d get if you did nothing all game. Ian had a large gang, and looked good for some bonus points at the end. Martin looked very strong, but it was the dark horse, Joe, who became king of the cells with his cast iron grip on the drug supply. Those bonuses (mostly stolen from Martin) gave him an unlikely win.
Then we played Port Royal, the new card game that’s sweeping the nation. Joe, Martin and myself went for cutlasses (leaving Ian with none until the end of the game) and how useful they were! Joe, in particular, seemed to go on for ages, repelling ships, until his selection of cards covered most of the table!
Martin got past 12 points first, but I was hot on his heels, and in my last turn – the last turn of the game – I was able to buy two cards, which pushed me past Martin’s score. For the third time this evening, he’d had first place stolen from him at the last minute.
On the form table, despite being several thousand miles away, Sam rises to the top. Well played, that man!
And as we enter the last month of the season, the Division looks like this...