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“I always do my best.” You adjust your glasses. Double J nods back. With Mr. Hogg as the dealer, the potential final hand of the group is played.
The cards are drawn. Double J folds quickly, losing the minimum. Again the playing cards are shuffled, and delivered. Double J doesn’t fold this time, but you do, bringing things as they started. You’re in a stalemate.
Third time's the charm, both players accept their odds. The three main cards are shown in the middle of the table. None of you give a facial hint about your luck, but continue pursuing by matching each other's bets. Next card is shown, Double J instantly goes all in. You match the bet. In truth, you have a decent hand, so this is as safe as it gets.
The pressure rises as the final card is unveiled. You show yours without fanfare. Double J reveals his and cannot match you. The last card was the decider. Both of you have pairs. Your kings turned comfy for a moment as they were responsible for disposing of the Double Jacks.
>Group B is yours!
“For fuck’s sake!” Rob Banks damns his luck.
“It’s fine, Banks!” Mr. Hogg tries to calm down the corrupt cop. “It was a thriller to watch. Congratulations, Johnny! And best of luck in the finals! You’re representing us all.”
“Thank you!” You smile back.
“That specific pair? That's the reason you sacrificed it all?” Jun Spice looks at the pair of Jacks.
“Hahehahe… Yeah.” Double J chuckles upon showing how childish he is to the world.
“T-This kid! This fucking kid! Fuckin’ bastard! He always fucks around!” Rob Banks starts laughing instead of crying. Or maybe, he actually finds it funny. “Whatever! The right kid won! Good luck to you, you bastard! I’ll be cheering for your ass!” Rob Banks wants you to win now.
“Sometimes I forget the youth can be quite immature...” Jun Spice doesn’t mind though.
“Johnny…” Double J wants your attention. “Win the whole thing… So I can pretend I got second twice in a row…” That’s as much endorsement as you’ll get from him.
“I’m not going to choke, I’m not Sewel.” You shrug.
“I HEARD THAT!” Sewel shouts from his table. He’s sensitive about his track record…
“Well played, Young Ando. I bet my granddaughter that you wouldn’t win today, so perhaps, do falter at the end.” Wait. Did Jun Spice do this whole charade to try to stop you somehow for money?! “I’m jesting. Not about the bet, that is very real. Anyhow, I don’t say good luck to other competitors when skill is all that matters. But taking into consideration the game, I thereby must. Good luck.” Who would’ve thought that the Spices are so salty…?
“Thanks, Sir.” You feel like you’re graduating instead of playing poker…
