All In (266 hits)
Category: NoneRating: -0.33 on 3 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Freakmagnet (View user info) at 2007-02-21 21:08:12 EST
Sam opened the door and limped down the steps into the smoke filled basement,
"Sam!" shouted Andy and Chris, their voices thick with liquor. "How was work?"
"A bitch." Sam threw his jacket over a chair and lit a cigarette, holding it between bandaged fingertips.
"Those things will kill you," said Andy. The three roared with laughter.
Andy dealt cards around the table. His left hand, specifically the ring finger (or lack there of), caught Sam's eye.
"When did you lose that?" He asked, secretly wiggling his toes, three of which were missing.
"Last month. You haven't been around in awhile."
Sam glanced at his cards, and then around their unconventional poker table. No chips or money sat before them. In the center of the table sat a stainless steel meat clever and a snub-nosed revolver. The bet was to Chris. He poured himself a shot and said,
"Two nails." A good, safe bet. Finger and toe nails grow back. Sam called.
"Raise you a nail." said Andy.
Chris folded.
Sam grinned, "I'll call."
They showed their cards, Andy groaned and poured a shot.
"Three nails!" shouted Sam, tossing Andy a pocket knife. Andy carefully unfolded the blade. He stuck it unceremoniously beneath his fingernail and peeled back. Tears streamed down his face and mixed with the blood that dripped on the table. The nail hung by a corner. Andy raised it to his teeth to chomp it off, he repeated the procedure. Stab, peel, chomp. Stab, peel, chomp. Down to his little finger, skipping the non-existent ring finger.
Now it was Chris' turn. The penalty for folding was a finger or toenail. If there were no remaining nails, the next smallest appendage would be removed. And so on. Chris found it less painful working from the sides, making cuts around the nail of his index finger, and finally sliding out the nail.
"Shit" he said. He exhaled and dealt the cards.
Sam examined his cards and then looked at Andy. His hands were shaking, but that was probably just the trauma. Sam's eyes found his lips and saw a smirk playing across them. Terrible, thought Sam. No wonder he's missing a finger. You only bet fingers when you run out of toes. Never bet the big or center toe, you can't walk without them. All three men walked with a limp. Andy used a cane. He was twenty-seven.
Looking at Chris' face was like looking at a rock. He was only missing four fingernails. Sam read nothing and brought his eyes back to his cards.
Chris opened the betting with two nails, Sam matched it. Andy raised the bet to a little finger, out of nails again. The games generally moved pretty fast, usually done in half an hour. New players were always in demand. A skilled player lasted about eight months, an amateur lasted about three. Chris called and Sam raised the bet an index finger. Andy sighed and laid his cards on the table.
"Pay up." Demanded Chris.
"Come on, you know I'm out."
"You want to play the fuckin' game or not? Next lowest appendage."
Sam and Chris stood up and held Andy's forearm against the table. It trembled in their hands. He balled his hand into and fist, leaving the little finger extended. Clutching the cleaver in his other hand he raised it above his head, then brought it down without a word. When the cleaver connected it stuck in the table, and the finger sailed across the room, thunking against the paneled wall of the basement. Sam felt himself choke down a laugh. A spurt of blood caught him in the chin as Andy fell back against his chair, gasping like a beached fish. Chris threw a first aid kit at Andy and a roll of paper towels at Sam. The game continued; it was Chris' bet.
"Raise you a thumb."
Sam smiled and flicked him off. "Raise you a middle finger."
Without hesitation, "Left hand."
"Come on you guys," Andy's voice shook with fear and for loss of blood; he might have been a ghost. "you're betting like a couple of crazy people."
Ignoring him, Sam stared at his cards, and then at Chris.
"All in."
Andy groaned.
"You can't take that back Sam" said Chris
"No shit." replied Sam. Chris exhaled slowly, puffing out his cheeks.
"You gonna call or not?"
Sweat poured in buckets from their foreheads, they stared each other down with tired and bloodshot eyes, at last, they turned their cards. Sam broke his poker persona with a chuckle.
"Damn."
"Sorry man."
Sam stood and shook hands around the table.
"Thanks guys."
"Yeah, no problem, it was fun."
"Totally, I'll catch you later."
Sam reached out and took the gun from the center of the table. He turned his back to them, pressed the gun to his temple, and pulled the trigger. They both cringed at the sound and the splatter.
"Looks like we need a new partner."
"Fuckin' amateur."
User Reviews
Submitted by AsshOly (user info) at 2007-02-21 21:42:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
repost so i can read this.
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2007-02-21 21:12:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
fuck that
i'm not playing
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-02-21 21:10:14 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
I never thought I'd read a poker story that I hated...but you did it!