Who is Jackson Hart? Part 2
Aug 4, 2020 12:18:27 GMT -6
Deana Barrows, Dylan Thomas, and 3 more like this
Post by Jackson Hart on Aug 4, 2020 12:18:27 GMT -6
OOC: The following is a direct continuation of my promo from last week "Who Is Jackson Hart? Part 1"
I sat there looking at my cards a little bit longer debating what to do. The turn card a Queen of Hearts did nothing to help me and debating on what my opponents had the card may end up being devastating to my chances of winning. There was 4 of us left from the original 6. I sat in silence and watched as two of the final four folded almost immediately leaving just me and a guy with whom I had a bit of a checkered past with named Michael Castellucci. Michael studied my face for what seemed like hours but in actuality was only a few seconds trying to gleam any kind of intel as to what impact the 4th card had on the hand I was initially dealt. The staring and awkward silence was broken up when the dealer politely reminded Michael that it was his bet. Michael pondered a little bit longer and while he did I glanced over to James Raven and the other guy with the ridiculous suit to see them both staring at our game with great interest. It takes a few seconds and then Michael makes his move with a solid bet of 10k which he does by aggressively pushing forward his chips into the pot.
I sat there looking at my cards a little bit longer debating what to do. The turn card a Queen of Hearts did nothing to help me and debating on what my opponents had the card may end up being devastating to my chances of winning. There was 4 of us left from the original 6. I sat in silence and watched as two of the final four folded almost immediately leaving just me and a guy with whom I had a bit of a checkered past with named Michael Castellucci. Michael studied my face for what seemed like hours but in actuality was only a few seconds trying to gleam any kind of intel as to what impact the 4th card had on the hand I was initially dealt. The staring and awkward silence was broken up when the dealer politely reminded Michael that it was his bet. Michael pondered a little bit longer and while he did I glanced over to James Raven and the other guy with the ridiculous suit to see them both staring at our game with great interest. It takes a few seconds and then Michael makes his move with a solid bet of 10k which he does by aggressively pushing forward his chips into the pot.
Do I fold? Not a chance. Do I call? Do I raise? What's the play here. I already think I have the best hand even if I don't and that's without the river coming. Fuck it. I got this. I know I do.
"All in." I shout as I push my entire stack of chips in there, something close to 40k and more than what Michael can match but I know Michael well enough to know that he would sooner lose all of his money than fold with the river coming. Michael is a good card player but pride is his biggest weakness and at this point I have him by the balls.
Michael puts his entire stack in and then flips over his two cards, a Pair of Queens. As Michael flips his cards he looks up at me with a shit eating grin that rivals few others. His hand is solid and he knows it, paired with the Queen of Hearts already on the table gives him a solid three of a kind. In fact pocket queens pre flop gives a player the 3rd best chance of winning a hand, only a pair of Aces and a pair of Kings give a player better odds.
You can tell by Michael's body language that he thinks he's already got this in the bag as he high fives a buddy of his standing behind him.
I flip my two cards much to the delight of Michael revealing only a pair of Kings. I have one shot to win this hand and one only. I need a King and I need it badly or do I not only walk out of this game out the 10 grand I was gifted anonymously but I would also end up owing the house another 40-50K.
Michael remains standing, both his palms on the table while I stay in my seat hoping to catch a break. The dealer reaches to her right and pulls the 5th and final card from the card dispenser. She slowly slides it across the table for effect before flipping it over.
In those few seconds it felt like time stood almost froze. I remember sitting in my seat looking around the room at all the faces. Some were tempered, some not so much. I could see joy on some faces, shock on some others and on Michael's face, disbelief and dejection. The one card he couldn't afford to see was the one now staring him back in the face.
A King of Hearts.
Giving me the winning hand with a three of a kind with Kings high.
The pot was mine. Something close to 80k, 40 of which was already mine. I stood up from my seat, reached forward with both arms and pulled all the chips towards me never taking my eyes off of Michael. It was a bad beat and Michael knew it. Worse off, everyone else in the room was now staring at him to see what his next move would be. Would he accept his loss graciously and offer a congratulatory word or two? Would he immediately get a few more markers and try to win it back? Or would he do what he so often does and throw a fit like the petulant little rich asshole that he was brought up to be?
The answer would come only a few seconds later when Michael reached over to the moderate pill of chips in front of the guy to his right an absolute no no in poker and tosses a few of the chips in my direction.
"Sir you can't do that." The dealer says.
"What the fuck asshole?" The guy whose chips were just tossed across the room says as he gets up from his seat.
"Take your loss like a man Michael and maybe you'll get to come back here and play another day." I quip with a smirk on my face.
I knew as soon as I said it exactly what was going to come next. To this day I'm not sure if I did it on purpose or not but what happened next would be described by witnesses in the room as a one sided beat down that made everything that preceded it look like a mild mannered affair.
Michael climbed on the table and lunged at me both of his arms outstretched. I had enough time and space to step backwards and essentially let Michael fall flat on his face to the ground. I waited for Michael to turn over and get back to his feet and once he did the real fun started. You could tell almost instantly that anything and everything this guy knew about fighting came from watching Fast and Furious movies.(OOC: Which are amazing btw) He had zero training whatsoever and I suspect even less real world experience in a fight. Everything he threw missed or was blocked. The few punches I threw connected. Michael would probably be eating out of a straw to this day if the casino security hadn't gotten there so quickly to put an end to the little brouhaha. Naturally because I had a good reputation at this particular establishment and because I was not the aggressor I was allowed to stay but Michael was literally carried out by two men who looked like they had just gotten done eating two slightly smaller men.
I decided to go over to the bar and grab a drink while the casino staff cleaned up the area. I left my chips on the table knowing that there was no one dumb enough to touch them. Especially with the eye in the sky always watching.
"Whiskey, neat." I say to the bartender.
“That’s a hell of a right hand you’ve got there, kid!” comes a voice from over my shoulder, “Have you ever considered enlisting in the armed forces and defending our nation against the forces of evil?! Uncle Sam and I could use someone like you.”
I thank the bartender as he passes me a glass, and turn slowly to face the man in the ridiculous American flag suit.
“Shut up, Blizz,” mumbles the man beside him, “Hey. My name’s James Raven, this is Aidan Collins.”
“UM! I’m SURE he knows who I am, thank you James!” Aidan boasts before casting an expectant look my way. I say nothing.
“So anyways,” James says, turning away from Aidan and motioning back to the table, “That was quite the show. What’s your story, man? You a fighter or something?”
”I’ve battled a punching bag or two out of boredom but in terms of actual training I have none. Much like Barack OBummer over here's fashion sense.” I say as I look over at Aidan Collins.”I’m just a guy with a talent for cards and a mouth that sometimes get’s me into trouble. What about you? What’s your story? Auditioning for the Red White and Blue version of Jesus Christ Superstar?”
“Hey! That was… that was...” Aidan exclaims, his mouth opening and closing in mock horror before finally relaxing, “That wasn’t a terrible line if we’re being honest...”
James grins at his accomplice before turning his attention back to me, his interest clearly piqued.
“No training,” he presses me, “None at all?”
He studies me carefully. It’s uncomfortable.
“Would you like some?” he finally asks, “It’s always nice to know you can cash the checks your mouth writes for you. Not everyone that comes at you is going to be some uncoordinated jack ass like that…”
He motions back to the table again.
”And you’re the guy who’s going to train me? Not to be that guy but aside from your name which based on the way you said it I’m guessing you were expecting it to impress me, it didn’t by the way. I know absolutely nothing about you. What makes you the guy to train me?” I ask as I study both James and Aidan’s faces trying to get some idea as to why our paths are crossing.
James shrugs his shoulder, choosing his next words carefully.
“I won’t lie to you, there are plenty of guys that could give you a few lessons in a gym,” he admits, “Based on the fact that you’re here and putting the stamp on the social elite, though… I’m going to guess that none of those other guys have offered.”
I say nothing, taking a sip of my whiskey as he continues with his sales pitch.
“You’ve never heard of us, that’s fine, I don’t need to be recognized,” he says with a casual grin, “But you strike me as someone that recognizes an opportunity when he sees it, and I can offer you more opportunity than anyone else that shows up and tells you they can teach you how to run a set of ropes or hit a suplex.”
“Seriously,” Aidan chimes in, serious for the first time since his arrival, “Wrestling, MMA, anything you want to do… this guy makes champions. Then? Hollywood, entrepreneurship, anything you want… the doors are opened.”
The three of us stand in silence for a long moment.
“Like I said, I offer an opportunity,” James clarifies, “What you need to ask is how much you’re willing to bet on yourself?”
"Betting on myself has never been an issue hoss. You just saw that for yourself a few minutes ago. And your right, no one has offered to train me which in and of itself makes your offer intriguing. And truth be told as much as I enjoy the rush that is Texas Hold'Em I wouldn't mind experiencing a different kind of rush. So sure, I'll take you up on this offer. But i'm not calling you Sensei or Master or any of that other shit." I say to James as he cracks a smile.
"I like this kid. He'll be good for us." Aidan chimes in.
"Us?"
Fin.
