Authonomy – Friday Flash Fiction [FFF]
Post: FFF – March 28, 2014
Theme / Genre: Poker Winner
Include: Vestibule, Gracile and Chiffonade.
Words: 970
Science Games
It wasn’t the most obvious place for a game of poker, but the vestibule of the Science Building was as good as any. With its ornate woodwork panelling, inlaid marble floor depicting the planets of the solar system and a sparkling cut-glass chandelier, it was every part a room for an occasion such as it was.
Grant Thistlery-Jones versus Benjamin Blatchingford-Brown the only players left from a table of eight science students. Grant, the Biology brain, against Benjamin the Physicist. Arch-rivals in the halls of St James’s, both had high hopes and a large stake to lose—most of which sat in front of Thistlery-Jones.
Benjamin Blatchingford-Brown, the B-Man, had an idea in his head, he knew Grant Thistlery-Jones, Thistles, had cheated, but couldn’t prove it—sat at the opposite end of the table, he had no evidence.
This was likely to be the last hand—Thistles had just knocked-out Clive Anderson-Parker, who everyone thought was a dead cert to win—and now ninety percent of the pot was stacked in front of him. B-Man knew it would be an “all in” hand for him, he just hoped he had something; he needed the deal of the night.
A handful of expectant observers jostled around the edges of the vestibule, money exchanged hands on side bets, tension grew.
‘This is thirsty work,’ the B-Man said out loud, halting the muffled voices. ‘Shall we adjourn for a beer?’
‘What’s the matter, Benjamin, old man? Feeling the pressure are we?’ Thistles rose to his opponent’s plan. ‘Don’t worry I won’t prolong your agony for too long.’
B-Man smiled, he succeeded in distracting his adversary. The next part, would be more difficult.
‘Well, I need another drink,’ he looked over to his girlfriend. ‘Jills?’
Jilly Summerton-Blanche stepped up to the table and B-Man indicated her to bend down so he could whisper in her ear, one eye on Thistles—and sure enough both of his eyes were on Jilly’s short skirt and curved rear. He whispered his instructions. Jilly stood, faced Thistles, and winked. B-Man ignored them both and looked to the dealer.
‘Let’s get the game going, Mr Dealer,’ B-Man said to Patrick Smythe-Fitzgibbons.
Jilly looked into Thistles eyes. He could not keep his eyes off her gracile body, as she seductively sauntered passed.
The dealer began to shuffle the cards, he too observed Jilly and her provocative steps. His shuffling became unfocused and erratic, he continued applying pressure, unexpectedly cards bent and flew up from his hands, Thistles attention was distracted.
‘Jesus, Pat, you buffoon,’ he blurted out. ‘This is Texas Hold ‘em, not a cookery lesson. The cards need a shuffle not a chiffonade. Here use these.’
Thistles friends chortled to themselves, Thistles threw over a new pack of cards. B-Man approved, at least a new deck would level the playing field, although they could be marked. The remainder of the audience made no sound, Thistlery-Jones was not the most popular student.
Smythe-Fitzgibbons opened the new pack, embarrassed by the whole episode, and shuffled with more concentration.
The game proceed in an orderly fashion, bets were placed and cards selected. Thistles sat smugly. B-Man knew that wasn’t his tell, as he was always smug, although perhaps a little more smuglier than usual.
With the flop, the turn, and the river all played, B-Man looked at his cards again, he could add a Ten to his two, which made three; not a bad hand. The other cards: Ace of Diamonds, Four of Hearts, Nine of Spades and the Queen of Clubs, didn’t seem to add up to anything, so what did Thistles have to make him so smug; three Queens perhaps.
The next phase of B-Man’s plan: Jilly arrived with beer.
‘Hear we go, boys,’ she said with an oh-so-sexy voice. ‘Benjamin first!’
Jilly cranked open a bottle with an opener that hang from her necklace and gave B-Man his beer, her look confirmed she understood her role in the gambit. She bounced towards Thistles, her face smiled in his direction, his eyes stayed on her. With beer bottle held against her t-shirt and between her breasts, she pried the lid off with the necklace opener, beer bubbled from the neck and she winked at him. Like melted cheese on toast he oozed all over her. She placed the bottle down in front of him, allowing ample view of her cleavage, his face had gone to heaven.
The master stroke. With Thistles interest firmly on the exhibition, Jilly turned away and dropped the bottle top. It tapped its may over the marble and spun to a stop a few steps away, she followed and bent to retrieve it. Whilst collecting the beers Jilly had removed her underwear, her short skirt rode up over her naked buttocks revealing, to the delight of the select male audience and Thistles galloping imagination, everything.
Thistles couldn’t contain himself.
‘Well, I never imagined I’d see such a fine vestibule specimen, within the Science Building vestibule,’ he joked. And probably wished he hadn’t uttered it so loud.
The B-Man cared not for his rivals biological references, all he was interested in were the cards and as Jilly bent lower, so did Thistles; he revealed two Nines, result.
B-Man coughed. Jilly changed from sex kitten to right-on feminist.
‘How dare you!’ she shrieked, and slapped Thistles across his bristles, which by the stunned look on his face, took him quite by surprise. B-Man made his move to wipe the smugness away.
‘All in!’ he calmly said.
‘What!’ Thistles said, still in a mixed state of arousal and shock. ‘Yes, great, all in!’
Benjamin Blatchingford-Brown smiled.
