The Poker Game
Author Bast
Law & Order
(for the what do they really think challenge)
Jack looked at Arthur from under frowning brows.
He sat there like some Buddha gone bad--the sagging jowls, the pampered pouty mouth, the body that gravity had finally conquered. "I'm in," he said in that hoaky southern accent that not even 25 years of northern exposure had erradicated.
The men moaned. Judge Carlson neatly straightened his cards and laid them on the table. "Fold," he said as if pronouncing sentence from the bench. His Honor Kavner by contrast threw all his cards in the air with a sound of disgust. Arthur chuckled and sipped his scotch. "Guess it's up to you, Jack," he drawled.
Jack stared at his full house. He was vaguely aware of the tinkling ice in Arthur's glass and had a fleeting image of what he'd like to do with some of the cubes. "I'll call."
He threw his chips into the pot and showed his hand. Arthur grinned. "Eight, nine, ten, Jack, and Queen of hearts! Sorry, son." As he swept the chips into the pile in front of him he gave Jack a pitying glance. "If you don't have the cash I'll take an I.O.U. After all, I know where you work."
As Arthur lumbered his way to the bathroom Judge Kavner whispered: "I don't understand it. He loses at the ponies but keeps winning, winning, winning at the cards."
Jack shook his head. "They don't let him shuffle the horses," he said bitterly.
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Author Bast
Law & Order
(for the what do they really think challenge)
Jack looked at Arthur from under frowning brows.
He sat there like some Buddha gone bad--the sagging jowls, the pampered pouty mouth, the body that gravity had finally conquered. "I'm in," he said in that hoaky southern accent that not even 25 years of northern exposure had erradicated.
The men moaned. Judge Carlson neatly straightened his cards and laid them on the table. "Fold," he said as if pronouncing sentence from the bench. His Honor Kavner by contrast threw all his cards in the air with a sound of disgust. Arthur chuckled and sipped his scotch. "Guess it's up to you, Jack," he drawled.
Jack stared at his full house. He was vaguely aware of the tinkling ice in Arthur's glass and had a fleeting image of what he'd like to do with some of the cubes. "I'll call."
He threw his chips into the pot and showed his hand. Arthur grinned. "Eight, nine, ten, Jack, and Queen of hearts! Sorry, son." As he swept the chips into the pile in front of him he gave Jack a pitying glance. "If you don't have the cash I'll take an I.O.U. After all, I know where you work."
As Arthur lumbered his way to the bathroom Judge Kavner whispered: "I don't understand it. He loses at the ponies but keeps winning, winning, winning at the cards."
Jack shook his head. "They don't let him shuffle the horses," he said bitterly.
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