"I can't believe you've never played poker before," Kit said.
Len shrugged, "I was sixteen when I signed up with the Kamen Riders."
"So? My dad was teaching me cards when I was twelve."
"I've always been better at advent decks than decks of cards."
"Maybe you'd be more into it if we persuaded Kase to join us."
"If the words 'strip poker' come out of your mouth, you'll be coughing up cards for a month."
"Guys," Chance interrupted, "are we here to talk or to play? I raise."
Len looked at the cards in his hands then at the pile of chips in the middle of the table. He looked down at the considerably smaller pile of chips in front of him. He looked back at his cards again.
"Fold," he said.
Kit groaned.
"You can't always fold," he said.
"I keep getting lousy cards."
"Poker isn't about the cards," Chance said. "It's about the people. It's about looking into someone's eyes and knowing whether they've got a great hand or if they're only bluffing. It's about expressions and body language and their reaction in that instant when they first look at their cards. You can win at poker even if you never get a better hand than a pair of twos."
Kit stared at Chance for a long while, taking in what had just been said. He looked at his hand with a thoughtful look on his face.
"OK then, Mr I-Don't-Need-Good-Hand," he pushed his chips into the centre of the table, "let's see what you've got."
Chance grinned, "Of course, having a royal flush does sometimes help."
"OK. That's it. I'm never again going to suggest gambling to a guy who shares his DNA with a con man."
The End
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