Chapter 2
Poker face
Oswald was very eager over his latest venture, but also had a bit of chagrin over Shen's behavior. He decided to take matters into his own hands.
Shen had had a good night. After starting and ending a few fistfights, he celebrated his victories by going to the nearest pub, using the money he had taken from the losers and drank hard liquor to the point where the laws of biology, chemistry, and anatomy simultaneously threw up their hands and said "I don't know how! You tell me!" Afterwards, in his imbibed state, he impressed several females (all in a similar state) with some of his more unique abilities.
"Hey, check this out," he said, taking off his shirt. On his back was a large tattoo of a dragon, immortalized in the classic mythological pose: sweeping, lunging, with grandiose strokes. "When I flex, like this, it starts flying." This statement was rather apocryphal, as in reality, the dragon did little more than wiggle. But to Shen and the girls, who were beyond the point of reality, the dragon appeared as much more. They saw it soar through the clouds above, slicing its path through the heavens themselves, rearing its mouth back and bellowing majestically to the cosmos.
It turned them on.
Shen returned the next day to his apartment. After a brisk nap which lasted until 1:30 PM, he got himself a few cups of coffee, and headed to the local gym. He went through his usual routine, lifting and hefting weights, when a familiar, short-haired Irish man entered. He looked thoroughly out of place, with his middle-aged frame and formal suit. He stode to Shen, who was in mid bench-press. Shen, upon seeing his familiar acquaintance, set the weight bar down, wiping his brow. "the hell are you doin' here?"
"I wish to have a small chat with you."
"It's gonna have to wait. Some people have things to do, you know."
Oswald adjusted his glasses. "Very well. I shall wait outside for as long as you require."
Shen finished his set, then deliberately went through the circuit again to see if Oswald meant what he said. When Shen finished and headed out, sweating from the effort, he saw Oswald, still waiting pleasantly as though it had been no more than three minutes. He was shuffling a deck of cards, and masterfully, at that. The cards seemed to flow from hand to hand, a beautiful cadence of red and white. Oswald controlled every movement of every card, and right now he made every card fly in a beautiful four-suit waterfall. Shen, taking insultingly brief notice of this, said, "all right, what'cha want with me?"
Oswald stopped shuffling. His face was said nothing. His expression was so straight that you could use it as a ruler. "Do you gamble much?"
Shen shrugged, "from time to time. Challenging me to a hand?"
"Precisely. A single round of five-card draw poker."
Shen took a seat, and Oswald tossed five cards to Shen and himself. Oswald's face remained the epitome of pliancy. Shen did his best to keep a poker face, but a smile tugged at the ends of his lips, and his hand and arm tightened up. He glanced several times at his cards. "Three of a kind!" Shen thought, looking at the three kings staring back at him, as well as a lone nine and seven. "Shen works his magic again."
Though Shen made an effort to remain calm, it was to no avail. Oswald had experience on his side, and every subtle action was so blatant to him that Shen may as well have had a large neon sign on his back which said "I HAVE A GOOD HAND!" Shen thought quickly. Don't be auspicious. Wait until the second hand. Shen bet modestly and asked for two cards. Oswald saw right through his plan, and simply met his bet, taking two cards for himself. Now, the real game began. Shen's cards were a two and a four, but they were merely bait to avoid suspicion. He upped the ante significantly. "Bet."
"Raise."
Shen was taken off guard by this. His mind began triple-timing its previous performance. "Man, three of a kind is a good hand… but there's a lot that beats it… and he bet so much." Shen remembered Oswald gracefully shuffling the card. "That bastard! He stacked the deck to make sure he'd win! He's just hustling me! Well, he's not getting one cent more from me." Shen folded, eagerly awaiting the straight flush that Oswald was sure to have.
Oswald turned over his hand slowly, dramatically, revealing:
7, 7, 3, J, 5, off suit.
"A goddamn pair of sevens!" Exploded Shen.
"Well, what was your hand?"
Muttering, Shen turned over his cards, revealing the three kings in their full glory.
Oswald couldn't help but release a chortle. "It appears you've been outplayed."
"What do you mean?"
"A strength doesn't lie in a hand, Mr. Woo, it lies in how you play it."
"Are you getting at something?"
"Precisely. You, Mr. Woo, you are the three of a kind: excellent potential. But, alas, you are also Mr. Woo the gambler, who cannot help but let slip a little smile, or an eager glance at his cards. Meanwhile, your opponent could have next to nothing, yet win by letting you defeat yourself."
"And you're some grand master at everything, right?"
"Not necessarily." Oswald put away the cards, put on his hat and collected the money. Shen contemplated these words for a moment. Then another thought entered. "Seems a lot of rambling on he was able to do, after one hand…"
"You stacked the deck, didn't you?" Shen shouted.
"In your favor."
"But you knew what I was gonna do!"
"That is beside the point."
"Gimmie back my money! I lost ten dollars to you!"
Oswald thought for a moment, then decided to let Shen have his way. He fished out a number of coins and bills, giving them back to Shen in a wad.
"That's better," Shen said.
Counting up the money, Shen spotted something else: a card, the ace of hearts, seemingly dropped into the money by mistake. But along the side of the card, there was something else: a thin, crimson stain of blood.
"Oh man," Shen pondered, "Who is this guy?"