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Poker Buddies
Topic Started: Jan 14 2011, 02:39 AM (79 Views)
Jay Wildman
In a retirement home
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
I sat there at the kitchen table, the fingers on my right hand strumming against the top as I glanced over my cards once more. I didn't like the power my cards held, which meant I had no power at all. A seven-deuce unsuited hole card combo meant I would be up for one hell of a ride. The flop hadn't even come out yet and my survival was nil. I could either bluff my way into a pot or get raked over the coals, watching my money float down the drain.

I felt eyes glaring at me, almost demanding I hurry up and make my decision before they made it for me. I grumbled a little before throwing in the two quarters, wondering if I made a fool's bet. I waited for the return bet and then received the thrill of my life when I saw the flop come down onto the table.

Three two's, the most beautiful thing I have seen since the last time I woke up at dawn.

I baited my trap and played my hand as if I had nothing but a garbage hand. The tactic might work for a few moments but if my opponent picked up on my body language they might call me on my bluff or run away screaming. Limping in, I tossed a few dollars into the pot and waited. It seemed like it would take forever for a call on my bet. I broke out into a sweat as my heart raced but my opponent didn't catch on and raised my bet. I called the bet and waited for the next card. The turn card ended up being a puppy footed seven. Lovely, even if I didn't have the four of a kind, I could have a full house as back up. I limped in with another bet and waited, this time I had the bet called and the river card turned up.

I knew I should be nervous now, a spaded seven.

Things got interesting from here and it seemed to fit into the little game Amos and I played with each other after One Shot. I had the clear position of power with four two's, much like having the title belt around my waist. The bully position would was new to me so I wondered if I could fall for a trap. A possible four of a kind in seven's lurked out on the table like a shark waiting, smelling blood on the water all along. Maybe I would be the chum, my overconfidence my undoing as I faded into nothingness.

What the hell, might as well make things interesting and go all in.

Pushing forward my huge stack of change, I pressed my luck by making it seem I grew desperate and wanted to scare my opponent away. One of two things could happen in this situation, either my opponent would fold and leave me with a large chunk of the money floating in the water or he would suck me dry and break me. I crossed my fingers and waited, the tension could have been cut with a chainsaw.

I couldn't help but think about the situation with Amos as I waited for the call. There was a driven man who grew more obsessed every day; strip me of my title, prove I'm not invincible and then retire me from the game once more. While it was nice of him, I could see where things could get dangerous if I let things be for too long. Sometimes when people grew into fanatics, they tended to do rash things like grow goatees and dye their hair gray. I paused for a moment, thinking Amos would look better with some gray hair. It might even give him a personality stronger than a wet piece of cardboard.

My mind trailed from my opponent at Destiny to my opponents at Showdown, the Rodriguez Brothers. They were a breath of fresh air for the tag division, a long standing group of guys who could work as a team and knew how the business worked. Putting Amos and I together as a team meant a death sentence for both of us if he couldn't stop obsessing about me and start treating me like his partner. I looked over at the vase on the counter and shook my head, spotting the card from Amos which spouted his love and affection for all things nature and green.

Well, maybe it didn't quite say it but it might as well have for all the threats associated with it. Much like a school boy with a crush on the girl of his dreams, he promised to destroy me, know the saying for my tombstone and where he could properly rape me.

Why couldn't he just admit he loved me?

"Jesus, what are you doing Jay?" A voice interrupted.

"I'm playing poker woman, leave me alone!" I replied.

"You really are crazy, aren't you?"

"Shh! You're gonna scare him off with your inane prattle! Let him bet his last bet and then we can have this conversation!"

"Damn it, I told you once before. The mask isn't playing poker with you, you have it mounted on a mannequin's foam head and you have two cards in front of it."

"You hurt his feelings now, he just folded."

Zyrah shook her head as I scooped the money up with a sinister cackle, counting all of the glittering silver and copper while motioning for the mask to deal the next hand since I had business matters. I turned towards Zyrah and crinkled my nose at her, showing my disgust with her for blowing my big moment at the table. She rolled her eyes and handed me a packet of papers, causing it to slap against my chest with a dull thud.

"What's this?" I said, looking at the papers with mild curiosity.

"You said you wanted all the information on your opponents for this coming Showdown, so I did what you asked me to do and got everything I could get my hands on. Everything from the place the boys were born to what type of bean they ate on their burrito last night."

"Oh, come on now. I didn't ask to see if they ate burritos, did I?"

"After you put the mask on, you screeched like a howler monkey and demanded a shot of tequila. You get really racist when you're drunk, you know that Jay? It makes me wonder if there is a skeleton inside your liberal closet."

"I didn't drink anything... Did I?"

"I didn't see you get drunk but then I have seen empty bottles around like they were going out of style so I could only assume you drank them all."

I thought for a moment, wondering what could explain everything she saw. I could honestly say I never drank anything over the past six months aside from a glass of wine when we went out for a dinner or two. I didn't think anyone else would wear the mask except for me, I knew my brothers were in town and loved getting me in trouble with their idiotic ways but they didn't know about the mask.

"It's cool and everything if you have a problem with the Rodriguez Brothers. Hell, I heard plenty of guys and gals at the corporate headquarters of sVo complain about them. Too thug-like to be anything but the tag team champions, some even think the titles keep them quiet since they appear too dumb to recognize they are being held back."

"What?" I said.

"Yeah, people like BBD and Shame say he Rodriguez Brothers were lucky we need the ethnic portion of our show. Something about filling a quota, I didn't quite pick up on it when I walked by the Anderson's office."

"Zyrah, are you making this up?"

"If I am, they'll never know. I know it's essentially a handicap match. Between the Rodriguez boys and Samuel Amos looking for liberating the title from you, it's going to get ugly pretty quick. You should stop playing poker with the Grimnir mask and start dedicating some time on studying up."

Zyrah walked away from the table with an audible sigh, as if she might become the parent in our relationship. I wondered where she got her attitude from and thought it might have come from someone else instead. Her boss would never do anything foolish enough, no sir. I turned around and faced the mask, knocking on the table once.

"I know, no hunting but I have to ask, did you have pocket sevens?"
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