Let's Get Pub Quizzical, Quizzical!

The pub quiz. It's a bit of fun really. You and some friends group together. You allocate 'specialist areas' to each other ("Well I'm good at sports, we've got them covered" "Yeah, and I'm good at the ongoing plight of the African Seabear, it's a guaranteed extra mark!") like you're the fucking Justice League of quiz teams. You make up a funny name so you can laugh when it gets read out (E. Norma Stitz and Hugh Jardon).All in the noble aim to win a gallon of beer. It's fun right?

Wrong.

The pub quiz is testing you on general knowledge and all other stuff you've picked up through your life. So essentially fail at the quiz, and you fail at life. Not only have you failed at life, but you've failed at life against people who have already failed at life by virtue of them usually being regulars there. It's not just "a bit of fun" now is it?

IS IT!?!?

Our team has lost so many times, it doesn't bother us anymore. We just assume that everyone there has nothing better to do with their time away from the dole queue than absorb information from every encyclopedia the world has to offer. Then again, why choose encyclopedias when there's Wikipedia? It's actually a true test of how fast your mobile internet really is, searching for and finding the right answer within about 10 seconds (If you were looking for porn, you'd have found it 9 seconds ago). Hell, if your internet can't do that, I'd go complain. It should be every humans basic right to cheat at the quiz!

There's also the 'If All Else Fails' answer. You know the one, where you're asked a question that you don't know, your mates don't know, the internet doesn't know, but you've gotta put something. Ours is 'King Solomon'. To us, King Solomon has simultaneously been the ruler of every relevant empire, the name of a bridge somewhere we didn't know, the left back for Leeds in the 1970's, a medical condition that affects the liver and the anagram of 'Serbian afar ace'. You never know, he may have been the answer. He wasn't. But he could have been, and that's all that matters.

It's okay losing by a huge margin (we can tell how likely this is by the amount of 'King Solomons' on the answer sheet), you don't care, because you knew you didn't have a chance, it's when you're close when it hurts. "Argh, we were one off!" and that's when you start having a go at each other for giving the few wrong answers "THE ONGOING PLIGHT OF THE AFRICAN SEABEAR WAS YOUR SPECIALIST AREA!" until you get some ruddy perspective on things and realise you've just failed at life. It's a vicious circle. We have actually reached the dizzy heights of the tiebreaker before, "How tall can a Great Redwood tree grow to?" but failed on trying to get the closest answer (370 foot they can grow to if you're curious). As if we knew trees could grow that tall. So you all trudge off back to the table ("next week eh lads?") and bitch about the winners for a bit. Then to compound the quiz misery (quizzery?) it's karaoke time!

Fucks sake.