bad beat. ─
The three men offered him a collective leer. One, straddling his seatback like a cellist, hung his wrists off the back of his chair and passed a snicker over his pointed teeth. Theodore smiled serenely into their rapacity.
“You certainly flatter me. And for your guidance and mentorship, you have my most profound gratitude. However… to ‘feel’ my triumph so imminently… Don’t you think that runs somewhat counter to the nature of the game? That is, premonitions of victory seem in opposition to a player’s reliance upon ‘luck’ and ‘chance’…” He smiled thoughtfully. “Though… I suppose a seasoned gambler such as yourself can’t help but develop a strong intuition. Do you find it interferes with your enjoyment of the game?”
The man in the whirlpool glasses shuffled and dealt. Theodore watched him, noting with quiet curiosity the dark crescents of dirt beneath his nails, the faint yellowed stain on his shirt-front, the few unraveling threads and thinning sleeves – his harlequin smile. Theodore pondered. Were he accustomed, as humans were, to toiling so endlessly against the tides of fate, perhaps he too would relish the chance to chase the unpredictable skirts of ‘luck’ and ‘chance,’ to woo the random with card and coin, to persuade oneself that the sway of the universe lay in the changeable and fickle palm of odds and chances, rather than the intractable grip of destiny.
But he knew better.
The cards coasted smoothly across the table. Theodore tapped each with a gloved fingertip. “O - oh. Of course. A saying. That… stands to reason, I suppose.” He cleared his throat. “Ah… far. We use a different sort of deck, where I reside.”
He knew better – fate ticked like a constant metronome, inexorable – but he yearned to indulge.
“… I … suppose this ‘saying’ has nothing to do with insects, either?”
so far, he has strung the other along under false pretenses, has goaded him into believing that the game that they play is one of chance: uncertain at be- st, as victory ( in the form of a winning hand ) could never be guaranteed. it was all a ruse ---- a practiced ruse, one that had been used by this particul- ar group of men too many times to properly keep track. he shuffles the car- ds with purpose, and he talks to provide just the right amount of distraction. it's certainly a risky plan, if just that, but it works for him all the same. it is- n’t as though he’s been called out on it before, after all -- slipping cards out of the deck and up into into his sleeve as he works, so as to tuck them away for when he might need them most -- and he doubts that will happen tonight. not with this kid, whose head he figures is filled with air. there was no way.
he cannot help but to laugh, if only for a moment.
“ you’d think so, wouldn’t you? but i can’t say that it has -- otherwise, i’d’ve stopped playin’ a long, long time ago. i’ve got a keen sense for this kind of thing, is all. and if you ask me, it makes things a lot more interest- ing -- keeps ‘em entertaining! ”
for himself, anyway. there was nothing as ‘entertaining’ as watching the hope and excitement fade from another’s expression once the cards were drawn, and they realized that they had no chance at winning it big. call him cruel.
“ ... and no, it’s got nothin’ to do with bugs, either. jeez ---- you sure you didn’t just come crawling out from under a rock? sure sounds that way! ”
cards are dealt, bets are wagered. and for perhaps the third time that night, it is tyki that fortune seems to smile upon. when he shows his hand, grinning a cheeky smile, his company does groan and grumble, but they’re quick to pay up. no one’s surprised, really --- save for, perhaps, the gentleman across the table, all innocent and unaware. he throws him a mock sympathetic glance.
“ oh, ouch! guess my senses ain’t as keen as i thought. and after all the bragging i was doing a second ago ... -- ah, well. you know the rules, kid! it’s about time for me to collect. ”
and so he does, wasting no time in snatching up whatever coins had been to- ssed into their makeshift ‘pot’ ( which was little more than a worn-out hat belo- nging to one of the other ‘fine’ gentlemen seated at the table ). out of the corner of his eye, he glances over at his companions. when he turns his attention ba- ck to theodore, he releases a ( somewhat dramatic ) sigh.
“ and time for me to get going, it looks like! much as i’d love to stick aro- nd and play a couple more games, i’ve got a job to head off to ---- and i’m not so sure i can afford to show up late on account of a card game again.
but, hey! there’s always next time, if you’re plannin’ on sticking around, huh? ”
