by Balázs Botos

Six nationalities at the table. A Chinese. A Turkish. Mickey, the American cowboy. Joe, the Australian shepherd. A French toast. And me. The toast takes place on a plate, the others on their bottom.

Dead silence. In the middle of the table the toast is lying mutely, movelessly. The six hungry, desperate fellows have been staring it for a while. The toast feels that its seconds are numbered. Too bad that it can’t even do anything against its fate. It’s helpless like a full wallet left alone on the main street. By this time it would surely have said it last prays. If it could. But it’s just a fench toast. A warm, crunchy french toast.

Time is up. With an elegant move, Joe the Australian shepherd grabs the toast and eats with one bite.  No mercy. Not even crumbs remain. It was all in.

<Burp>

Hearing the exotic mixture of sounds, the waiter appears behind us. A well-combed, dressed up gentleman.. At least he really tries to give that impression. In fact, he looks like someone out of a comic book with his elegant suit almost getting ripped apart by his belly. His pink tie is the icing on the cake.

-Gentlemen! – his voice breaks the silence - The dinner is over. It’s time to play poker.

   This place is to be Las Vegas, Excalibur Hotel’s casino, and my Rolex watch shows 8 p.m.

My name is Jackie Brown. A 30-year-old, successful businessman, and the hotel’s temporary guest. Mustn’t grumble: I’ve got enough money to afford most of my desires. The things that I want by Jackie Brown. Hamburger for breakfast. Big Mac for lunch. Pizza in the evening and girls at night. If I didn’t work out I’d be as fat as Bud Spencer, and my life would be like starring in B-category films slapping 50 people at the same time. Luckily, it ain’t like that. This luxorious lifestyle has its benefits. Respect. The kids let me forward in the queue. The neighbour offers himself to cut my grass. The people love me, and the grannies in the street constantly invite me to their pyjama parties. But to tell the truth, I’ve got bored of this lifestyle. It’s so dull, there’s no excitement. So, I came up with the idea to check out a nerve-racking, pulse-increasing game of chance. As russian roulette would be a bit morbid, I  choosed to play poker.

Ultimately, life itself is a wheel of fortune, isn’t it?

   Nu, back to the dinner. After the last swallows, we move to the casino hall and sit in.

I call the barman and ask to surprise me with some kind of speciality. A minute later I get a glass of rotten-tomato juice. Shaken, not stirred. Gently, I remark that I wanted something with alcohol. A minute later he brings me a pint of pour alcohol, and mixes it with the rotten tomato juice.

-Here you are, Sir –  says with all the naturalness in the world.

Waking up from amazement I realize that this guy is crazy, or at least has a screw loose, but ironicly I even ask for a thin slice of lemon peel.

Now, with my newfound supershake, I look around the casino. All the rich brats are here from around state slipping cards cracking chips.

’Place your bets’ – you hear all over the roulette tables. A brave guy has just put all his money on black 13. Of course the red wins. Poor amigo. While some people lose, others meet with success. A man goes all in at the other poker table, and beats all his opponents with royal flush. He reveives a special mixture of envy and cursing. Even some cards thrown in his face. And an axe.

   The real aces, however sit around this table.

They are the masters of poker: the perfect bluffers, the most superb liars. They bluffed in their whole life. Bluffed from morning till night, bluffed buying adult dvds „for their dad”. The constant bluffing ended up in their double personality. In one life, they are common citizens: they go to work, pay their taxes, and help their landlady carry out her garbage. But after 8, they come here to drink an After Eight, and put a fortune at stake.

I’ll surely need all my skills against them.

   The game starts soon, and the air feels heavy. The pressure is unbearable.

The guys are starting to get prepared. Mickey, the cowboy puts on his sombrero. So does the turkish with his turban. I take my good old Aviators out of my shirt pocket, whereupon Joe the australian shepherd puts a straw in his mouth.  In the background, a quartet of musicians plays jazz. Chillout. The soft music fills the place like the smell of smoke and whiskey. After the main theme, they perform a piano solo. A brass solo. A drum solo. Even Han Solo.

Then a singer joins the band. A black man in white suit. The hotel’s temporary guest, the famous jazz musician: Louis Armstrong. As he starts to sing the evergreen song  ’What a wonderful world’, the dealer grabs a pack of Plastic cards and the game begins.

   The first hand is not quite what I expected.

This time I fold. I’ll have the chance later to prove that I’m worth a damn. I don’t panic. Just stay cool and easy. And I think that’s all I need to beat them. Then, in the next few rounds it proves to be by far not enough. I didn’t count on one thing: these men are real pros. Suddenly, all my courage leave me. I’m starting to panic. My hands are sweaty. My legs are numb and my ears are itchy. I’ve got to blow my nose and I even have to pee, but I can’t. The only thing I can do is to pull a poker face. Anyway, I’ll need a strategy to win, but fist I have to think this all over. I fill my glass with martini, lean back and try to cook up something.

Sip. As my tongue touches the dry cocktail, a flash comes and I realize what to do. Everything is clear. No more questions, no more doubts. The complex equation turns into a simple adding. I see everything that’s happened so far. And everything that’s going to happen. Like a long chain of events, in the end of which I beat all of them.

Sip. A perfect bluff. The game ends for the chinese.

Sip. The turkish is out. I send him back to his harem. He may pray not to get the silk bow from the sultan.

Sip. The cowboy turns out to be a greenhorn. He had better to stay at his ranch in the land of Winnetou.

   Soon, only two men remain. Me and Joe. One against one. Man against yeti. He really looks so with his long beard and hair. Ironic, that such a man lasted till the final. But I mustn’t underestimate Joe’s abilities. He could simply kill me with an ace of spades, if he were in the mood. Luckily he isn’t. In fact, you couldn’t tell his mood from his excellent poker face. He doesn’t even wince. No mimicry, not even a smile. Steven Seagal would envy it.

In the background,  the jazz music is taken over by the song „Final Countdown”.

Breakdown. Suddenly, all the noises fade away. The roulette wheel stops spinning. The number 8 pool ball turns back before the hole.

-I’m all-in.

Time slows down. My whole life flashes by. I can’t even breathe. My heart beats faster and my pulse hits 120.

Showdown.

Goddamned Joe’s tricked me. He has four of a kind. I can only beat him with royal flush, but for that, I’m gonna need the ace of spades. Almost impossible.

One to one million is my chance. One million dollars at stake. My mother told me one million times to go to bed in time, and I heard the song ’Love is gone’ one million times on the radio. I even say one million prays at this significant moment of my life.

I’ve got the ten of spades. The jack of spades. The queen and the king of spades. Everything depends on the last card.

’Here comes the river.’

Slow motion. I can’t believe my eyes. Nor can the shepherd. Surely, things like this only occur in fairy tales. But this ain’t fiction. I’ve got the ace of spades!

The roulette wheel spins again. The 8 ball rolls in the hole. The whole casino celebrates. Enemies become friends. Friends become better friends. Better friends become warms. The blind see again. And I hope not to see more blinds beted in anymore.

Now, only one question’s left: how to spend the money? I get the answer sooner than I’d expect, but from the one I wouldn’t even expect. An old lady calls my name. A lady of birth and breeding. As the smell of her expensive perfume fills my nose, I recognise her in no time.  

-Mummy?! What are you doing here?

-Oh, Sonny. So good that you won that money. Guess what happened: I just played away our house on roulette.

I got the answer. Then a heart attack.