A while back I did a story called Lust Fiction, and now I'm doing one in a similar vein, and indeed, set in the same place. Eventually, when I have enough scenes done, there'll be a story. Won't that be cool? If it's wanted by anyone they have permission to save it and put it up, so long as they acknowledge that I wrote it. And anyone who wants to guess Bands/Choirs and Superiors can e-mail me privately. Bonus points if you can put a name to any of them.
POKER.
Three men and a woman are sitting at a table. The woman is short and slim, with dark, almost black hair, which doesn't quite reach her shoulders. It is entirely unstyled, but is nevertheless quite clean. In contrast to her hair, her leather jacket and black jeans are neatly pressed. She's swinging slightly in her chair, and directs occasional smiles at the man to her left. His attire is similar to everyone else at the table, though more rumpled, and he has long brown hair which is just as untidy as his clothes. In contrast to the woman, he doesn't move his chair at all, but instead taps his feet and his hands against ground and table to a rhythm only he can hear. Across from him is an intense looking blond man with an empty bottle in his hands. He's spinning it slightly, and looking at it in a way which suggests that he finds a hidden meaning in it. He doesn't look drunk, but who can say? The other man is calmer than the rest of them, though not by very much. His hair is dyed an ugly pink, and a pair of sunglasses obscure his eyes. He's gazing around the room with an air of interest.
Music Man: Come on, let's do something.
Calm Man: We could always play poker.
Slim Woman: I have no intention of playing poker against you.
Calm Man: Why not?
Slim Woman: Because I don't trust you not to rob everything I own if given the opportunity.
Calm Man: Would I do a thing like that?
Blond Man: Actually, money is only used to keep score. Almost anything else could do the same thing. Even matchsticks.
Music Man: But do we trust him with our matchsticks?
Slim Woman: <smiles> Do we trust you with our matchsticks?
Blond Man: Does anyone here trust anyone here with anything? There is silence for a moment.
Slim Woman: Yes.
The Blond Man sweeps his left arm expansively around the table, before pointing it at her.
Blond Man: In that spirit, I shall make some of my very own matches available.
The Blond Man reaches into a pocket and takes out five boxes of matches.
The Slim Woman reaches over to take one of the boxes.
Slim Woman: Don't you have any safety matches?
Blond Man: What's the point of safety matches?
Slim Woman: It's almost always nice to have a variety. In this instance, a variety of types of matches assists in the objective of using them in a scoring system. Fortunately, I have safety matches.
She turns around and opens a small black bag hanging on her chair, opens it, and takes out a box of matches. Safety matches, in fact. She opens the box and tips them out on the table. She divides them into two piles and starts breaking the matches in one of the pile in half. She does the same with the Blond Man's matches.
Blond Man: Do we trust you with our matchsticks?
Slim Woman: Behold! Half of one of these is worth one point. An unbroken one is worth 5. Half a safety match is worth ten points. And an unbroken safety match is worth 50. Is that acceptable to you?
Music Man: I see you've given this a lot of consideration.
Slim Woman: Of course. Don't I always?
The matches are shared out. No one complains about how they're divided.
Calm Man: Since it was my suggestion, I think I should be dealer.
Slim Woman: The absence of logic in that sentence is striking and unusual, even by your standards.
Calm Man: <deadpan> I strive to better myself at all times.
Music Man: I think I trust my girlfriend's honesty in this matter...
Slim Woman: Do you have another girlfriend whose existence I was previously unaware of?
Music Man: <without pausing> ...so long as we come up with an acceptable form of words.
Blond Man: How about "I have not tampered with this deck in any fashion."
Calm Man: But she'll have shuffled it, so that wouldn't be true.
Music Man: We should make her say it before she shuffles in that case. And after she shuffles she promises that there are 52 cards in the deck, each one different from all the others, that she hasn't marked them in any fashion, and that she will deal them fairly, and without tampering with the deck other than true dealing fairly.
Slim Woman: I'll have to check the cards first, of course. Are we playing with jokers? Which cards are wild?
Calm Man: Wild cards destroy the integrity of the game. They must be avoided at all costs. Especially jokers.
Blond Man: All in favour of jokers?
The Blond Man, the Slim Woman and the Music Man all raise their hands.
Blond Man: The motion is carried.
Slim Woman: I don't have a deck.
The Music Man provides one. The Slim Woman examines the deck carefully on all sides, before pronouncing it to be fine.
Slim Woman: I don't believe that the deck was rigged before I got it and I haven't tampered with it in any fashion.
Calm Man: <to Music Man> You should be ashamed of yourself.
Music Man: I don't need to alter the deck in order to win.
Calm Man: That's not the point. You should do it anyway.
By this stage the Slim Woman has dealt out all the cards.
Slim Woman: There are 54 cards in the deck, each one different from all the others, I have dealt them fairly, and have not tampered with the deck other than by shuffling and dealing them fairly. Jokers are wild.
People look at their cards, buy cards off the dealer, and consider them. The Music Man ponders his cards and folds. The Calm Man shakes his head in apparent disgust when seeing this. The Slim Woman seems to be pleased by her cards.
Slim Woman: This is a fine hand.
Calm Man: You're bluffing. I can tell.
Slim Woman: Why would I bluff?
Blond Man: Why does anyone bluff?
Calm Man: Are you in or not?
The Calm Man smirks, and for some reason the Blond Man is hesitating.
Blond Man: I cannot tell a lie. It was the Mexican Border Patrol.
The Blond Man throws a match into the centre.
Blond Man: If you wish, you can take it that I'm in.
Slim Woman: I'll see that, and raise it five.
Calm Man: And I'll see that, and raise it ten.
Music Man: It's too hot here. I'm getting one of those fans from over there.
Slim Woman: So you should. It's not right that there are two fans over there and none over here.
Blond Man: It is a symbol of the oppression of the working classes in the society of today.
The Music Man gets up while they're talking, hugs the Slim Woman, and goes in search of a fan.
Calm Man: Stop procrastinating and get on with it.
Blond Man: It's people like you who impede the class struggle. You are too fixated on poker games to think of the wider issues.
Slim Woman: I think a deadline is in order.
Calm Man: Five seconds should do, and you're still bluffing.
Blond Man: I'll see the fifteen, and it shall be raised to 20.
Slim Woman: Likewise. And the question is whether you're bluffing.
Calm Man: I'm not bluffing. Look. For the second time running I raise the stakes more than either of you. Isn't that an indication of confidence on my part?
Slim Woman: <turns to her right> Who do you believe, me or him?
Blond Man: That is a difficult question to answer, and not as simple as you make out.
Calm Man: Which question is difficult to answer?
Blond Man: In a sense, all questions are difficult to answer, in that no matter how hard you try to create the perfect answer, it is an impossibility to do so. Life is imperfect, and answers even more so. And I'm seeing that and raising it ten.
Slim Woman: I've said it before and I'll say it again. I have a good hand. Don't you believe me when I say that?
Calm Man: Oh, I believe you, but you're still bluffing.
Slim Woman: I see it, and raise it a further ten.
Calm Man: That's right. Soon I'll have all the matches. I see it, and raise it twenty.
Blond Man: I fold, and ask what is wanted for drink.
Slim Woman: Coffee, unspiked.
Calm Man: That's just asking for it.
Blond Man: And you?
Calm Man: Bacardi.
The Blond Man leaves the table. The Slim Woman looks behind her.
Slim Woman: What's taking him so long? It's not like him.
Calm Man: It seems that he's engaged in a dispute over the proper disposition of the fans.
Slim Woman: It isn't like him to stop for an argument either.
Calm Man: He is outnumbered, and he has quite a good view of that woman from where he's standing. She is quite attractive.
Slim Woman: <mock severe> Blondes. How stereotypical. </mock severe>
Calm Man: I appreciate women of all hair colours and none, as you well know. Now are you finally going to fold?
Slim Woman: No, but I'll see it.
Calm Man: Oh, look, he's taking a fan and he's going to the bar.
Slim Woman: Will all be revealed?
Calm Man: Will our drinks be served?
Slim Woman: Will you show me your cards?
Calm Man: There. High card ace.
Slim Woman: Pair of twos.
Calm Man: <self-satisfied> You were bluffing. I was right.
Slim Woman: It's still a good hand.
Calm Man: And for how many years has it been a good hand?
Slim Woman: Approximately nine.
The Music Man arrives at the table, sans fan. The Slim Woman grabs him by the waist as he passes by with one hand while taking the matchsticks she won with the other. They kiss.
Slim Woman: Why no fan?
Music Man: The Calabite broke the spare one.
Calm Man: Typical. And because of your useless excursion you're not going to get a drink bought for you either.
Slim Woman: Do you have an address?
Music Man: No, but I know where I can find them.
Slim Woman: You mean apart from at that table?
The Blond Man arrives, bearing drinks. He gives them out.
Blond Man: What's this I hear? Have you taken up stalking, young man?
Music Man: One of those people over there is a Calabite. Probably the one with the torn up papers beside him.
The Blond Man looks enormously pleased by this information.
Blond Man: You see? I told you. Sometimes you have to waste time in order to save it.
Calm Man: Perhaps discussing this where they can hear is not a good idea.
Nods all around. Drinks are drunk, and they leave all together, without taking the matchsticks.
Kevin Walsh, Balseraph of Nitpicking, Demon of Off-Topic Trivia -- "In the period of dictatorship, surrounded on all sides by enemies, we sometimes manifested unnecessary leniency and unnecessary softheartedness." N.V. Krylenko.
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