I was hanging out with Gerry at the Marquee last night. There was a guy in the smoking room wearing a Triple Five Soul hoodie. I glanced at him over my shoulder, and silver spots boiled in front of my eyes.

“Ger,” I said. “Read what it says on that guy’s hoodie.”

Triple Faxe Hands.

The idea came to me in a flash. Triple Faxe Hands. Imagine a three-handed alien playing Faxe Hands with a can of Faxe taped to each of its three tentacles.

Now imagine this in human terms. You and a partner tape your hands together, three-legged race style, sharing a can of Faxe. You also each have a can of Faxe in your other hand. That makes two people–three hands–three cans of Faxe. Triple Faxe Hands.

You cannot separate yourselves until all the Faxe has been consumed.

This works out to a can-and-a-half per person. It’s less than the two-cans-per-person of normal Faxe Hands, but this is made up for by the fact that you and your partner have to go everywhere and do everything together.

I wanna see pictures of Triple Faxe Hands in action.

Soon as I get some time off work, I’m going to be playing Fireball Hands (I’m a pussy).

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