Post by Buck U Productions on Apr 29, 2016 16:46:40 GMT
I sit in some dingy little Texas bar playing poker with a bunch of complete strangers competing in tournament. It’s unlikely that many people would recognize me without my mask on but I’m taking no chances, wearing a ball cap and dark sunglasses, my hood pulled up.
The other players are talking a lot of smack to me, calling me a “wannabe” because I’m dressed like a pro but I’m playing like anything but. It’s true though, the cards are being kind to me. I entered the tournament with five hundred dollars worth of chips and now I’m down to less than fifty.
Despite the fact that I entered this tournament to distract me from my upcoming Mexican Death Match with Jason “El Vainillo” Orion, I find myself feeling that the situation I’m currently in is very similar to our big match on Cinco de Mayo; namely, the odds are increasingly growing against my favor.
The dealer passes out the first two cards to all the players and I end up with the Three of Clubs and the King of Diamonds. I tap the table, wordlessly, indicating I “check” and wait for the other players to place their own bets or fold.
I was the king of Pollomania once but now I find myself risking my livelihood to prove that Orion is the fraud I’ve been proclaiming him for months as. Not only am I risking losing my mask but if I can’t beat him this time, I’m all but guaranteed to be out of the main event picture. How many times have I lost to him now, three? No, there’s no doubt that I need to win this match at all cost.
The dealer lays down the Flop: the Two of Diamonds, the Six of Clubs, and the “Death Card”, the Ace of Spades; nothing that’s going to help me. I “check” and the game continues.
Super Pollo being added as the special referee might just be my “Death Card”. He’s been a thorn in my side since I first arrived in Pollomania, always working against me, even before I threw that fireball at him.
The dealer deals the Turn, the Queen of Hearts; another card that doesn’t help me out much. All the players “check” and we wait for the last card.
Charlie’s the queen of my heart and I know she’s less than pleased I accepted this match. It’s too big a risk in her opinion, putting my mask on the line. Granted, my real name and appearance are easy enough to find out, I am the son of an ambassador, but this could end my career.
The dealer deals the River, the Jack of Spades; which leaves me with nothing at all. That’s how I feel about this match in Mexico as well; there appears there’s no way I can come out of this the winner, but I’m not about go out without a fight.
I push in all my chips and proclaim, “All in!”
(499 words)
The other players are talking a lot of smack to me, calling me a “wannabe” because I’m dressed like a pro but I’m playing like anything but. It’s true though, the cards are being kind to me. I entered the tournament with five hundred dollars worth of chips and now I’m down to less than fifty.
Despite the fact that I entered this tournament to distract me from my upcoming Mexican Death Match with Jason “El Vainillo” Orion, I find myself feeling that the situation I’m currently in is very similar to our big match on Cinco de Mayo; namely, the odds are increasingly growing against my favor.
The dealer passes out the first two cards to all the players and I end up with the Three of Clubs and the King of Diamonds. I tap the table, wordlessly, indicating I “check” and wait for the other players to place their own bets or fold.
I was the king of Pollomania once but now I find myself risking my livelihood to prove that Orion is the fraud I’ve been proclaiming him for months as. Not only am I risking losing my mask but if I can’t beat him this time, I’m all but guaranteed to be out of the main event picture. How many times have I lost to him now, three? No, there’s no doubt that I need to win this match at all cost.
The dealer lays down the Flop: the Two of Diamonds, the Six of Clubs, and the “Death Card”, the Ace of Spades; nothing that’s going to help me. I “check” and the game continues.
Super Pollo being added as the special referee might just be my “Death Card”. He’s been a thorn in my side since I first arrived in Pollomania, always working against me, even before I threw that fireball at him.
The dealer deals the Turn, the Queen of Hearts; another card that doesn’t help me out much. All the players “check” and we wait for the last card.
Charlie’s the queen of my heart and I know she’s less than pleased I accepted this match. It’s too big a risk in her opinion, putting my mask on the line. Granted, my real name and appearance are easy enough to find out, I am the son of an ambassador, but this could end my career.
The dealer deals the River, the Jack of Spades; which leaves me with nothing at all. That’s how I feel about this match in Mexico as well; there appears there’s no way I can come out of this the winner, but I’m not about go out without a fight.
I push in all my chips and proclaim, “All in!”
(499 words)