New story!
Let me get this out of the way: I cheat at cards. I like doing it, I’m not going to stop doing it, and I don’t care if you disapprove. I don’t cheat poor people, because they don’t have any money and nobody really minds if you take a rich person to the cleaners; but it’s my job to separate a fool from his money, and I’m good at it. Don’t like it? Stop reading.
Still here? Excellent. You’re clearly a discerning reader. So let me tell you about how I cheat at cheating.
The poker game at the Oasis was down to four, after the rest of us had genially divided up the fifth’s money between us. And I was thinking about letting the other three fight it out; the fifth had been a real good pigeon from the west, nice and fat and even good-natured enough about being skinned in a ‘real Outlands poker table.’ The pigeon was now at the bar, having a whiskey in a dirty glass, and pretty soon he’d be going upstairs with one of Mrs. Annie’s girls. He had gotten what he wanted out of the evening; why couldn’t I?
I should probably mention here that the fellow wasn’t an actual pigeon. Just to avoid any potential confusion.
I should mention .. I also, from time to time, cheat at cards.
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I have strict rules, though. That ace from the bottom of the deck never goes to my hand .. it goes to the lady just playin’ for fun (because winning is more fun) or the kid learning (because same) ..
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So .. if you play against me, be prepared to take all my money .. if you can beat the lady or the kid.
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Mew