Stayin' Alive
On my last outing into the battlefield, Channing was all in, to the tune of 15,800. A flurry of folds led to the big blind, who thought for an age before finally folding face-up and giving the Brit a suspicious glare. Channing showed to maintain his image.
In a way, I wish he'd been called, because Channing was being massaged at the time, and as I passed post-hand, I was provided with the ungodly sight of crevice Crescent.