Say hello to Das Exclusive

Those who know me know how much I love to trawl the charity shops for gaming treasure - among my prize finds are Bohnanza, Lord of the Rings, Traders of Carthage and Dancing Eggs. I've even bumped into Steve doing the same thing - we both found ourselves gazing at the same, flood-damaged (we hope) copy of an obscure Alan R Moon game called Wonga in a charity shop on the Gloucester Road. Have you tried it yet Steve?

I've also scooped up a few packs of good quality poker chips, a card table and various other gaming peripherals - a lovely Tudor Rose 2-pack of playing cards. Oh yes, and the card-shuffler.

I've always been on the lookout for a dice arena, and I've even made a few, but I've never found one whilst out hunting. Until yesterday. This dinky little fellow was waiting for me in a junk shop on the Gloucester Road.

 It's eminently suitable for games nights - here's Martha putting it through it's paces.

Perfectly functional

Perfect. I paid £1.50 and walked away a happy man.
And then . . .
And then I wandered into another charity shop further up the road, and my life changed forever. As I glanced around at the nick nacks and gee-gaws, I heard a weird sub-sonic rumble, and something drifted into my peripheral vision, like a Star Wars star destroyer. A German-made, deluxe Würfelbrett, still in shrink - 'Das Exclusive', no less. Just look at the size of the box it came in!

Sun-faded down the right hand side. Mmm.

I've never seen anything like it, and subsequent trawl of the internet seems to confirm it's rarity.
The box was worryingly light, and they wouldn't let me open it without paying, but I couldn't walk away without it - all £5 worth. And once I got it home and opened it up, I was not disappointed.

Genuine stained and varnished wood; four pointless dice 'docks' along the sides; no less than two synthetic baize-lined rolling cups. And two gold-effect pens (non-working).

I'm pretty sure these will start working if I grow a moustache.

It's vast - much too big to be useful for 99.9% of the games we play, but I'll make it work; even if I have to build some sort of harness to suspend it from the ceiling; and I will insist we all stand around it with cut-crystal glasses of scotch every time a dice needs to be rolled in any game.

I've got to go now - it's calling me, demanding I put on some Drakkar Noir aftershave and smoke a Hamlet cigar, whilst playing Pikomino by myself. But rest assured, Lords of Vegas will never be the same again . . . JB