I’m wondering, what are the odds of that happening? Seriously, I had everything. Well, not everything, but very close to that. I told the badass looking – mannish for sure – tall man with the hairy chest to cash me up. Now I have all the crap minus ten pennies.
First of all, I’m in Tha House. Nuff said. Secondly, I’m pretty goddamn screwed.
There was me sitting there, ‘course, then the farmer, the mofo, a hot gal, a nerd gal and the badass looking tall man. The farmer is an ol’ bastard covered in shait. He was chewing tar or shait. He’d got it from among all the dirt of his fucked up pocket. He sure has a fucked up pocket. And cheeks. He wears a nifty though simple hat.
The mofo is a motherfucker. Nuff said.
The hot gal has these killer tatas. She’s a butterface. I’d got a boner back then. Now I feel like my dick’s gonna fly away pissing over everyone’s brain.
The nerd gal has fewer tits than me. Nevertheless, she’s awesome from above the shoulders line. But she lacks tits. What a buzzkill, god.
And the tall man is really tall. And badass. Lucky me he wasn’t playing along with the circus.
No wild cards, simple and classic game.
There was me happier than never for winning a huge amount of dough, thinking about smoking some pot. The hot gal was the dealer. Whilst she was dealing the cards, ‘course, I mooned over the idea of her entire weaponry in ma mouth. I don’t wanna close my eyes, every moment I spent with you is a moment I treasure and all this crap. The nice silicone bags.
I was the small blind. Everyone called the bet but the mofo. The mofo raised a little, then everyone but the nerd gal called cold. The nerd gal instantly folded, no crying call at all.
The hot gal’s perfect arms faced-up the flop, and there was the queen of spades, the jack of spades and the two of clubs. Everyone checked. But the mofo didn’t. The moron raised greatly the friggin’ pot. I called, yeah. The farmer and the remaining gal did too. The badass tall man was frozen solid, doing what he does the best: tacitly looking all the fucking cards of all the remaining fucking hands.
And so came the turn. A king of some shit suit.
Did I mention I had a pair of kings?
So, I raised. The gang called. The mofo raised. All the fuckers, including me, called. The nerd gal was annoyingly scratching her flat butt. The farmer was doing noises with his mouth, noises only farmers with tar or shait can do.
Henceforth, heads are gonna roll.
I was looking at my gorgeous bankroll when the river blew the crap outta the people’s mind. A fucking two, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, god. And now, simply as that, I’d got a full fucking house. I tried to keep my poker face, but god knows I ain’t gifted.
I began raising, everyone called and raised like nuts. The bimbo raised some times, the mofo another one, the farmer calling, mofo’s all in there, me fucking raising. We raised to infinity and beyond.
Now the showdown.
Firstly, me, thank you. I said “I have a full fucking house.”
The hot bimbo said she had an “ace high straight.”
The farmer had a set of twos and the mofo didn’t have a single piece o’ shit.
The nerdy shouted a high frequency yet brief mechanical wave, thank you.
When I was pulling the pot the farmer said “Kid. Stop that shit.” I looked closely to his deep dreary eyes, he spat and said “Now.” I laughed so much and said “Nice joke, grandpa.” He didn’t laugh. I bet he didn’t like the joke.
Then my balls dropped off.
The bastard had a packed deuce in his hands, leaving him with a quads. Kicking my arse. I was supposed to move my arms, when my skin was turning pale and my guts were doing their artwork. For the first time the badass looking man retreated from the farmer’s surroundings. That’s another way fear found to say hi.
I’ve got no money. Well, very close to that. And my hunger’s only getting bigger and deeper.
Good lord, mommy’s so gonna fuck me up.