"I'll go again to Klaus," I said, mainly to escape the round of speed chess, Jürgen always suggested the ass, as long as not all were there. Jürgen's ass already fumbled on the chess clock.
"Come, I'll give you five minutes more. "
" No, let times. I'll get me noch'n malt. "
At the bar I met Wolf and Heiner, which apparently did not feel at speed chess.
" Well, already there ", I mimicked the ass to Jürgen.
" Now fang Do not you also have "grumbled, Heiner. Wolf stared down the beer.
" Well You look. "Now stared Wolf me down.
" No, really. "I ran over Wolf's folklore sweater." For populist clothes need a knotless character. Is far from everyone. "
Klaus grinned the economy and pushed me a new bottle of malt liquor on the counter.
" Will you come? Jürgen is already behind. "
Wolf and Heiner were mediocre players. Jürgen's ass put the two regularly in his pocket. Heiner had dark hair and no chin. He always held his head forward, because he believed that the missing chin not so struck, giving it the appearance of a giant turtle with no chin.
From Wolf to me were really only the sweaters in memory and the sore skin that came to light when he absorbed, all in his game, the sleeves pushed up to scratch himself. Both could beat me any time. Or, as Wolf said once, when I had once again made fun of his outer clothing, "Wake me at three clock at night, binding my eyes, And guide me to the board is, let's take my dog for the trains, and for you's enough still. "
The chess players do not last all the gold.
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