Once again I surface to bring you what I know about the November Nine, all of whom I have known for years. You have no idea what I've been through since posting the truth about Phil Ivey. It's been awful. I don't have all my toes anymore, though I do have somebody else's toes. My HMO is telling me that since the number of the toes in my possession is the same, it's a push. I can't argue with that logic, but it's unnerving. Whose toes are they? Whose?
Name: Kevin Schaffel
Occupation: Plunderer, Overlord
Nickname: Master, The Father Of Us All, Throngor the Merciless
Poker Style: Violently Aggressive
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Card Capper: His first wife's femur.
Favorite Country Song: I Haven't Gone To Bed With Ugly Women, But I've Sure Woke Up With a Few, by Hank Boone Warbuttons
Brief Bio: There is no doubt about it, Kevin Schaffel is the most terrifying individual to ever make the final table of the Main Event. He keeps a castle out on the frozen tundra of the Mongolian Gobi, the highest point of elevation for hundreds of miles, and he rules all that he sees with a hand of thorned steel. Old and wizened by age, he nevertheless remains unnaturally strong; able to tear an ox in two with his bare hands or kill a man with his shoulder-blades, which he decorates with the sharpened teeth of his victims. The details surrounding his birth are shrouded in myth, but it is whispered that he was not born, but hatched.
He demands hefty fees from his vassals, who bring to him his bounty of three-quarters of all grains, cheeses, livestock, gold, and women. Three-quarters of a woman isn't great, but he doesn't seem to mind. His seraglio is the size of Cobo Hall, and houses over 2,000 women, 300 eunuchs, and, oddly, since 2006, Mike Tyson. If any dare to stand against his might, he rides against them in force, burns their entire village to the ground, salts their field, steals their goods, and pirates their WiFi. He wears a necklace made out of thumb-bones.
Naturally, this evil extends to the felt. He slow-rolls. He shoots angles. He shoots the guy in the one-seat. In fact, the reason he has chips is not because of any inherent skill, but because he immediately beheads anybody who gets all-in with him. It's an obscure rule but one that Harrah's Entertainment still enforces; if your head falls off at any point during a hand, your hand is killed with you. (This is where we get the poker term "dead money", as well as the phrase "I was a head in the hand.")
I "met" Kevin on a 1994 trip through rural Northern China, when one of his bands of marauders razed my caravan. I was able to keep myself alive by claiming to be magic, and told them that I could help their king understand the plot of Twin Peaks. Unfortunately, he found my conclusions to be "entertaining but unconvincing," and he sentenced me to death for 5 to 10 years in his dungeon. Bill Clinton got me out, of course, by promising him that he would allow him to disguise himself as a Hawaiian citizen and run for president in 2008 in a rigged election that would allow him to . . .
Oh my God. I've said too much. Never mind. I was kidding, I was kidding! IT WAS A JOKE HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Fun Fact: None of the facts about Kevin Schaffel are fun.