"Texas Hold'Em" from the novel All In by HopCrop

Shiva landed in his usual seat. “The time to review has arrived! I'm going to obliterate this novel! Zero stars out of a billion!”

Odin awkwardly crawled up into his seat. The small green alien asked, “Shouldn't we at least read a little of it first?”

Shiva answered, “Linear time progression is for amateur reviewers. I'm ready to condemn books which have not yet been written, and I'm in the mood to burn some literature. My commentary skill is legendary!” The small alien folded his wings behind himself and plopped his scaly tail down on the seat cushion.

Isis hopped onto her seat with elegance and landed with a tiny squeak. She said, “Shiva, you're so handsome when you are full of it. Are you ready, boys?”

Shiva asked her, “What are we reading?”

Odin said, “According to the title a few paragraphs over my head, this is an excerpt of Episode 2 from the book All In by the author HopCrop.”

Isis added, “I read ahead. It's a first person narrative about a mattress salesman who enters a high stakes poker tournament. HopCrop wrote it during National Novel Writing Month.”

It had not been a good day. All things considered, Emma hadn't really been all that difficult of a customer, but she was far from the only person I'd had to deal with over the afternoon. I'd been cursed out by a seventy year old grandmother for not giving her a senior discount (which we do not offer to anyone), and a young man had stumbled into the store at some point while clearly high on some particularly potent illicit substance.

Odin said, “Why isn't this story about those two customers? They are much more interesting than you, mattress man.”

When I finally punched out, I was more than ready to buy a beer and wind down at my usual haunt, O'Hale's Irish Style Pub, which was located in what passed for a “downtown” in the nowhere backwater where I lived.

I trudged up to the door and pushed them open, ready to drown my frustrations in cheap drafts and fried potatoes.

Sean, the bartender of the establishment, saw me as I made my way to my usual stool.

Shiva said, “I have a usual stool too.”

He and I were old friends.

Shiva said, “I have old friends.”

“Hey!” scolded Isis.

We could hardly be anything else seeing as how I had been one of his regulars for years. I didn't even need to place an order, the moment I walked in he was making his way to the tap to pour my usual brown ale.

“Bryson! good to see you as always! How did work go today?”

“Oh, you know,” I replied as I parked myself at the bar, “the usual.”

“That bad, huh?” he asked, setting my beer down in front of me on the wooden bar.

Odin asked, “Is anybody else getting thirsty?”

“Well, you know how it gets.” I took a sip, “People wear on you sometimes... Still, it wasn't all bad. We had something of a celebrity come in today.”

“Really? Do tell.”

“It was this girl named Alva Lorensen. I don't suppose you've heard of her? No, well I hadn't either but apparently she's some big poker hotshot. Ernie's a huge fan.”

“Is that so? Did he freak out when she walked in?”

“You bet he did. He even tried to run up to her.”

Sean laughed, “Ernie? Running? I wish I had been there to see that.”

Shiva turned his head to face his friends and said, “Yeah, humans are funny when they try to run. I just watch them and chuckle and think, 'Dude, use your wings.'”

“It was a sight to behold. Speaking of which, that was the other thing about this Alva girl: She was absolutely breathtaking! Completely angelic! She had these blue eyes and this perfect hair... I don't know how to describe it.”

Isis spun towards her friends. “Why don't you guys ever say that about me?”

Shiva said, “meh.”

Odin said, “Um, you're – breathtaking too. Your ears – they are – soft – and – big.”

Isis said, “Odin, you speak over a thousand languages. You've had lifetimes to compose a compliment. That's what you've got? My ears are big.”

Shiva stifled a laugh which came out as more of a snort. He then said, “Well, you sure as hell ain't angelic.”

If I've ever seen a more beautiful woman in my life I sure as hell don't remember it.”

“Why Bryson, you flatter me!” came a familiar crystal-clear voice from behind me.

I felt my face turn red with embarrassment, and turned to see Alva herself standing right behind me, having walked into the pub.

Odin asked, “Why are humans always turning red when they feel embarrassed?”

Shiva said, “Embarrassment comes before a duel. Red is nature's war paint.”

She had been stunning before, even standing in a place with as little atmosphere to it as a mattress store, but now that I saw her in the pub with the wooden walls and floors and the slightly dimmed lighting it was almost hard to believe she was actually standing there rather than having been painted into the scene.

“I'm sorry, I...” I began.

“Don't be.” she told me. “I'm not going to be angry because somebody says something nice about me.”

She walked up and sat down next to me, plopping her purse on the bar.

“Whiskey and water, if you would be so kind.” She said to Sean.

“Coming right up!” Sean replied. Right before he walked over to the liquor shelf he shot me a look that said man, you weren't kidding!

Isis said, “New drinking game, every time Bryson says something awkward, Alva has to take a shot.”

Odin said, “There's not enough whiskey in the entire bar.”

Sean began to pour the drink, and I looked over at Alva. I may have already embarrassed myself, but I refused to be intimidated into silence by the presence of this uncanny, ethereal woman. It was time to strike up a conversation.

Isis said, “Aww, he's adorkable.”

“So... you play cards for a living?” I asked her, “How does that work? Are you just unusually lucky, or what?” I didn't like how accusatory I sounded. None of the words that came out of my mouth in this woman's company ever seemed to sound how I intended them.

Isis said, “Take a shot!”

“I'm pretty lucky I guess,” Alva agreed as Sean set a glass of whiskey and some water down in front of her, “But really you don't need to actually have a winning hand to take a pot if you know what you're doing. You just need to convince the other players that you have a winning hand.” She poured a splash of water into the whiskey and took a sip.

Odin said, “And down it goes.”

“Oh, right, you're talking about bluffing people. I've heard that's a big thing, though I don't really know that much about poker.”

Isis said, “Take a shot!”

Odin said, “Don't worry, Alva. I'll take this one for you.” A shot glass appeared in front of Odin, and its contents disappeared just as quickly.

“Do you at least know what the hierarchy of the hands you can have is?” she asked. “If you know that the rest falls into place pretty easily.”

“Not well,” I said. “The royal flush is the best hand, right?”

Shiva observed, “My boy Bryson knows the best possible hand. That's all he really needs to know. Just play that every time.”

Odin said, “You and I really, really need to play a high stakes game of poker some time.”

“That's true,” She confirmed,

“Ah-ha!” interjected Shiva.

“But really I prefer to think of it like this: a straight flush is the highest hand you can have, and the royal flush is just the highest straight flush that there is."

“And a straight flush means you have five cards in a row, like five-six-seven-eight-nine, and they're all in the same suit? Like all clubs or something?” I was pretty sure I knew how this worked.

Shiva asked, “Is that it? Is that the end of the excerpt?”

Odin told her, “Yep, that is all we copied.”

Shiva asked, “What happened next?”

Isis said, “I read ahead. She goes on explain the rules of Texas Hold'Em Poker, he says more awkward things, and she leaves to continue her exciting life of world travel and poker tournaments. She walks out of his life through the pub door.”

Odin said, “Sounds tragic.”

Isis glowered and said, “The tragedy is that Bryson never gets his fried potatoes.”

Shiva exclaimed, “Bryson wouldn't just let her walk out of his life! Tell me he has a plan.”

Isis explained, “That's the plot of the book. Bryson quits his job at the mattress store, sacrifices his home and his life savings, and enters an elite tournament to see Alva one last time. It's romantic.”

“It's foolhardy,” Odin said.

Shiva roared, “It's awesome! Bryson has more courage than any human I've ever seen! He's going to leave those other combatants crying and begging for his mercy.”

Odin shook his head and said, “Shiva, do you realize that you've developed a man crush on the mattress pedaler?

“Odin, everyone knows that mattress stores are fronts for laundering dirty money and mattress salespeople are dangerous mobsters.”

Isis inquired, “Noooo, tell us about it, Shiva”

“Think about it. Humans put mattress stores in every town, often across the street from each other. How often do you buy a mattress? There's no way that human dwellings generate enough business to keep all those mattress stores running. Mattresses are mob fronts, and Bryson is an ice-blooded gangsta.”

Odin took another shot and said, “I have no words.”