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Bar Scene: Poker Night

By: TechyConversant on Jun 4th, 2012 | syntax: None | size: 9.83 KB | hits: 198 | expires: Never

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>It's 9 o' clock on a Saturday.
>Regular crowd shuffles in.
>The pianist in the back plays a tune lightly, to serve as atmosphere.
>The new patrons all find seats among their peers.
>You're sitting at a table already, however.
>You've been here long before they arrived.
>You pick up your glass, and clink it with your partner.
"Down the hatch."
>She responds with a smile.
>"Cheers."
>You're fairly certain Trixie is the only mare who can hold a drink with you.
>She's also the only one you'd allow to even attempt it.
>She shoots you a grin.
>"How many is that now? 3?"
"2. That big hat is hiding an empty head."
>You can't help but notice she's still wearing it.
>"Hmph. Trixie doesn't need to hear anymore of that."
>People revert to talking in the third person usually when they are quite drunk.
>With her, it's quite the opposite.
>with a sigh, you take another sip.
>The table you're sitting as soon fills up quickly.
>You would have loved to attest it to your popularity, but you know the true reason.
>It's poker night.
>The usual culprits sit down.
>Donut Joe's the first to arrive.
>Usually is, the sugar in his veins keeps him awake and alert.
>Also means he has a terrible poker face.
>No one told him yet.
>Next up is Big Mac, sitting at the far end of the table.
>He sits at the far end to make sure there is room for the ladies accompanying him.
>Aloe and Lotus, you believe their names were.
>Always in the company of mares, that guy is.
>You're not jealous, of course.
>That would be silly.
>Then waltz in the Flim Flam brothers.
>Those two are always playing an angle.
>Do they play fair?
>In the strictest sense, yes.
>They communicate without speaking, like the scumbags they may be.
>But that just means they have a tell.
>And you?
>You're just Anon.
>And Anon's ready to play some Appleoosa Hold'em.
>"Good luck, Anon."
>Trixie leaves the table with an air of superiority.
>She must think she's above such silly games.
>A few hands pass, the favor fluctuating back and forth.
>Joe's a bit behind, making some hasty plays.
>Big Mac's been playing it safe, coming out slightly on top.
>You've been able to predict most of the Brothers' moves, but one strong hang put them far in the lead.
>And you?
>...
>Let's not talk about it.
>How about we say this: Make a big play now, or go home sober.
>The cards are dealt, and you check your hand.
>Pocket 10s.
>Not the greatest hand, er, hoof...but you can manage.
>The turn starts with Joe.
>"I'll toss in 12."
>He throws in his bits, moving on to Mac.
>"Eeyup."
>Tossing in 12 as well, the turn shifts to Flim and Flam.
>They make some silent gestures to one another.
>In unison, they agree.
>"Call!"
>6 bits a piece fall into the center.
>When the turn comes to you, you have yet to decide an action.
>You gotta make something big happen, or you're not getting a drop of Applejack Daniels tonight.
"Raise."
>You throw in 25 bits.
>They are not pleased.
>"25? You know I'm trying to run a business?"
"Pass or play, jelly roll."
>Donut Joe sighs, and looks at his hand.
>"Fold, too rich for my blood."
>Big Mac once overs his cards again.
>"Eeyup."
>His companions giggle as he tosses in more bits.
>The Flim Flams don't respond so quickly.
>The try to hid their faces as they talk strategy.
>Suddenly, they come to a conclusion.
>"27!"
>And they toss in the appropriate bits.
>Another raise?
>You don't miss a beat.
"30."
>The bits pile up in the center as you increase the bet once again.
>Any sane p0ny would fold by now.
>Luckily for you, these three have had some to drink.
>"...eeyup."
>Big Mac tosses in more bits.
>The ladies swoon, gotta love a high roller I suppose.
>The Brothers hesitate, but end up joining the bid.
>You end this phase, placing your cards face down on the table.
"Let's see the flop."
>Three cards come down.
>4, J, 5
>Nothing special in the least.
>Hopefully it's the same for them too.
>Big Mac rolls his eyes.
>"Eeyup."
>He taps his hoof on the table.
>Check, you safely assume.
>The Brothers flash a grin at one another.
>"Check!"
>In unison, as usual.
>Your hand didn't get any better, that's for sure.
"Check."
>The dealer flips the 4th card...
>A 10.
>Hell yeah!
>Don't show it, though.
>Big Mac lazily checks, as do the Brothers.
"50."
>Silence.
>"You can't..."
>"...be serious?"
>The Brothers are astonished.
"You heard me."
>Big Mac eyes his cards carefully.
>"...nope."
>He folds his cards down.
>Aloe and Lotus rub his arms in comfort.
>You still feel like he won.
>The Brothers chat for a second, but then come out strong.
>"62."
>Sixty two bits.
>The crowd at the table gasps.
>No one's more worried than you however.
>That puts you all in.
>"Well, hotshot?"
>"Pass or play?"
>You know them.
>They always play an angle.
>But you've already had a few to drink and are feeling dangerous.
"All. In."
>You put all your bits in the center.
>Now that betting phase is over, you can reveal your cards.
"Pocket 10s, good sir."
>The Brothers stare at the cards for a second, silent.
>But then start to laugh.
>Oh boy.
>"Just like I told ya, Flam."
>"You said it, Flim!"
>They drop their cards on the table.
>Pocket Jacks.
>You have got to be shitting me.
>"We read you like a book, Anon."
>"Feel free to fold now!"
>No.
>There's still one card.
"Flip it."
>Tensions are high as the last card is flipped.
>Don't worry, you have a...
>...2.564% chance of getting the card you want.
>That's not...too bad.
>You tell yourself.
>As the card is revealed, the gasps are heard across the bar.
>Everyone is stunned.
"DRINKS ARE ON ME!"
>You cheer as the crowd goes nuts.
>Flim and Flam look on in despair as the one card you needed is shown.
>You rake in the bits, getting praise from the bystanders.
>"Looks like that's it for the night, boys."
>Donut Joe takes his share and cuts his losses.
>"Eeyup."
>Big Mac leaves with most of his bits, and his two marefriends.
>Flim and Flam, now down almost all of their bits, and with no chance to win them back, admit defeat.
>"Well played, human."
>"We'll be back next time."
>They shake your hand with their hooves and depart.
>Time to make good on your promise.
>You take the stack of winnings and toss a bunch at the bartender.
>"Tap, a round for everyone!"
>The p0nies go crazy as they swipe their mugs.
>You're the bar hero for the night.
>You start to gulp one down.
>One of many more to come...
>As the night passes, you eventually find yourself drunkenly in the company of a random mare.
>By p0ny standards, you're sure she'd be drop dead gorgeous.
>You aren't entirely sure though.
>Talking to random bar p0nies really isn't your thing.
>Then again, you're drunk as hell and probably can't even talk coherently.
>How can she even be interested in talking to you?
>Oh right, bits.
>You'd normally tell her to fuck right off, you're not a gold mine for her to dig.
>Unfortunately that's out of your coherent grasp.
>Luckily for you, someone else is there to do it for you.
>"Excuse me, Ms. Two-Dimensional, I'm pretty sure he only has room for one mare who asks him for money."
>The 'gorgeous' p0ny scoffs at the intruder and up and leaves, along with the drink you're fairly certain you paid for.
>The conversation ender comes into view.
"Trix...whadda...what're..."
>Words aren't your forte right now.
>And she seems quite aware.
>"Alright, I'm cutting you off. Let's go."
>She uses her magic to semi-lift you off the ground, like giving you a shoulder to lean on.
>You clumsily walk out of the bar, recieving warm goodbyes for the free booze.
>"What am I going to do with you?"
>Trixie complains about your conduct the whole walk.
>She kinds has a right to, you're pretty drunk.
>Then again, who the fuck is she to tell you not to drink?
>Who is she to CARE?
>Eventually, she helps walk your ass to your house.
"Thanks..."
>You fumble through your pockets.
>You feel a distinct lack of keys.
>Great.
"Trix, I can't...I thought I had 'em..."
>"Thought you had what?"
>"..."
>"...oh you've got to be kidding me."
>Now she's just mad.
>Evident by her sudden ability to not just support you with magic.
>But carry your drunk ass through the streets.
>Eventually she makes it to her wagon.
>It's a LOT bigger on the inside.
>You'd marvel at it a lot more if you weren't so drunk.
>Trixie floats you in and plops you on the couch.
>She then falls on it herself, clearly exhausted.
>"That took a lot of effort on Trixie's part, I hope you know that!"
"Yeah...I must weigh a ton in...magical standards..."
>Your current state is not helping with the fact you have no idea how magic works.
>She sighs, and rests her head back.
>"You can be a handful sometimes."
"I'm not the only one, princess."
>No response, you probably rustled her jimmies.
>You'd apologize, but you could barely get THAT sentence out.
>You close your eyes, the weight from the alcohol bearing down on your eyelids.
"Thanks again...Trix..."
>You manage to slurr that out before lying to the side, letting sleep take over.
>You aren't asleep yet, though.
>Barely concious, you feel Trixie get up from her side of the couch.
>You hear her walks to another room.
>You hear her come back.
>Suddenly, you feel the comfort of a blanket covering you.
>She sighs lightly after covering you up.
>"Goodnight, Anon."
>You can't respond, or even open an eye.
>Hell, you'd be out cold, but you have no idea what's preventing you from sleeping.
>Then, in a brief flash, you feel a particular soft touch to your lips.
>"Please...don't remember that..."
>That's the last thing you hear before she walks off to another room, closing the door.
>You won't remember it, you KNOW you won't.
>But for the brief moment between you recieving it, and your body giving into unconciousness...
>...
>Out cold.
>You'll eventually wake up in her house, wonder how you got there and what happened.
>But that's another story.

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>It's 9 o' clock on a Saturday.
>Regular crowd shuffles in.
>The pianist in the back plays a tune lightly, to serve as atmosphere.
>The new patrons all find seats among their peers.
>You're sitting at a table already, however.
>You've been here long before they arrived.
>You pick up your glass, and clink it with your partner.
"Down the hatch."
>She responds with a smile.
>"Cheers."
>You're fairly certain Trixie is the only mare who can hold a drink with you.
>She's also the only one you'd allow to even attempt it.
>She shoots you a grin.
>"How many is that now? 3?"
"2. That big hat is hiding an empty head."
>You can't help but notice she's still wearing it.
>"Hmph. Trixie doesn't need to hear anymore of that."
>People revert to talking in the third person usually when they are quite drunk.
>With her, it's quite the opposite.
>with a sigh, you take another sip.
>The table you're sitting as soon fills up quickly.
>You would have loved to attest it to your popularity, but you know the true reason.
>It's poker night.

>The usual culprits sit down.
>Donut Joe's the first to arrive.
>Usually is, the sugar in his veins keeps him awake and alert.
>Also means he has a terrible poker face.
>No one told him yet.
>Next up is Big Mac, sitting at the far end of the table.
>He sits at the far end to make sure there is room for the ladies accompanying him.
>Aloe and Lotus, you believe their names were.
>Always in the company of mares, that guy is.
>You're not jealous, of course.
>That would be silly.
>Then waltz in the Flim Flam brothers.
>Those two are always playing an angle.
>Do they play fair?
>In the strictest sense, yes.
>They communicate without speaking, like the scumbags they may be.
>But that just means they have a tell.
>And you?
>You're just Anon.
>And Anon's ready to play some Appleoosa Hold'em.
>"Good luck, Anon."
>Trixie leaves the table with an air of superiority.
>She must think she's above such silly games.

>A few hands pass, the favor fluctuating back and forth.
>Joe's a bit behind, making some hasty plays.
>Big Mac's been playing it safe, coming out slightly on top.
>You've been able to predict most of the Brothers' moves, but one strong hang put them far in the lead.
>And you?
>...
>Let's not talk about it.
>How about we say this: Make a big play now, or go home sober.
>The cards are dealt, and you check your hand.
>Pocket 10s.
>Not the greatest hand, er, hoof...but you can manage.
>The turn starts with Joe.
>"I'll toss in 12."
>He throws in his bits, moving on to Mac.
>"Eeyup."
>Tossing in 12 as well, the turn shifts to Flim and Flam.
>They make some silent gestures to one another.
>In unison, they agree.
>"Call!"
>6 bits a piece fall into the center.
>When the turn comes to you, you have yet to decide an action.
>You gotta make something big happen, or you're not getting a drop of Applejack Daniels tonight.
"Raise."

>You throw in 25 bits.
>They are not pleased.
>"25? You know I'm trying to run a business?"
"Pass or play, jelly roll."
>Donut Joe sighs, and looks at his hand.
>"Fold, too rich for my blood."
>Big Mac once overs his cards again.
>"Eeyup."
>His companions giggle as he tosses in more bits.
>The Flim Flams don't respond so quickly.
>The try to hid their faces as they talk strategy.
>Suddenly, they come to a conclusion.
>"27!"
>And they toss in the appropriate bits.
>Another raise?
>You don't miss a beat.
"30."
>The bits pile up in the center as you increase the bet once again.
>Any sane p0ny would fold by now.
>Luckily for you, these three have had some to drink.
>"...eeyup."
>Big Mac tosses in more bits.
>The ladies swoon, gotta love a high roller I suppose.
>The Brothers hesitate, but end up joining the bid.
>You end this phase, placing your cards face down on the table.
"Let's see the flop."

>Three cards come down.
>4, J, 5
>Nothing special in the least.
>Hopefully it's the same for them too.
>Big Mac rolls his eyes.
>"Eeyup."
>He taps his hoof on the table.
>Check, you safely assume.
>The Brothers flash a grin at one another.
>"Check!"
>In unison, as usual.
>Your hand didn't get any better, that's for sure.
"Check."
>The dealer flips the 4th card...
>A 10.
>Hell yeah!
>Don't show it, though.
>Big Mac lazily checks, as do the Brothers.
"50."
>Silence.

>"You can't..."
>"...be serious?"
>The Brothers are astonished.
"You heard me."
>Big Mac eyes his cards carefully.
>"...nope."
>He folds his cards down.
>Aloe and Lotus rub his arms in comfort.
>You still feel like he won.
>The Brothers chat for a second, but then come out strong.
>"62."
>Sixty two bits.
>The crowd at the table gasps.
>No one's more worried than you however.
>That puts you all in.
>"Well, hotshot?"
>"Pass or play?"
>You know them.
>They always play an angle.
>But you've already had a few to drink and are feeling dangerous.
"All. In."

>You put all your bits in the center.
>Now that betting phase is over, you can reveal your cards.
"Pocket 10s, good sir."
>The Brothers stare at the cards for a second, silent.
>But then start to laugh.
>Oh boy.
>"Just like I told ya, Flam."
>"You said it, Flim!"
>They drop their cards on the table.
>Pocket Jacks.
>You have got to be shitting me.
>"We read you like a book, Anon."
>"Feel free to fold now!"
>No.
>There's still one card.
"Flip it."
>Tensions are high as the last card is flipped.
>Don't worry, you have a...
>...2.564% chance of getting the card you want.
>That's not...too bad.
>You tell yourself.
>As the card is revealed, the gasps are heard across the bar.
>Everyone is stunned.

"DRINKS ARE ON ME!"
>You cheer as the crowd goes nuts.
>Flim and Flam look on in despair as the one card you needed is shown.
>You rake in the bits, getting praise from the bystanders.
>"Looks like that's it for the night, boys."
>Donut Joe takes his share and cuts his losses.
>"Eeyup."
>Big Mac leaves with most of his bits, and his two marefriends.
>Flim and Flam, now down almost all of their bits, and with no chance to win them back, admit defeat.
>"Well played, human."
>"We'll be back next time."
>They shake your hand with their hooves and depart.
>Time to make good on your promise.
>You take the stack of winnings and toss a bunch at the bartender.
>"Tap, a round for everyone!"
>The p0nies go crazy as they swipe their mugs.
>You're the bar hero for the night.
>You start to gulp one down.
>One of many more to come...

>As the night passes, you eventually find yourself drunkenly in the company of a random mare.
>By p0ny standards, you're sure she'd be drop dead gorgeous.
>You aren't entirely sure though.
>Talking to random bar p0nies really isn't your thing.
>Then again, you're drunk as hell and probably can't even talk coherently.
>How can she even be interested in talking to you?
>Oh right, bits.
>You'd normally tell her to fuck right off, you're not a gold mine for her to dig.
>Unfortunately that's out of your coherent grasp.
>Luckily for you, someone else is there to do it for you.
>"Excuse me, Ms. Two-Dimensional, I'm pretty sure he only has room for one mare who asks him for money."
>The 'gorgeous' p0ny scoffs at the intruder and up and leaves, along with the drink you're fairly certain you paid for.
>The conversation ender comes into view.
"Trix...whadda...what're..."
>Words aren't your forte right now.
>And she seems quite aware.
>"Alright, I'm cutting you off. Let's go."
>She uses her magic to semi-lift you off the ground, like giving you a shoulder to lean on.
>You clumsily walk out of the bar, recieving warm goodbyes for the free booze.

>"What am I going to do with you?"
>Trixie complains about your conduct the whole walk.
>She kinds has a right to, you're pretty drunk.
>Then again, who the fuck is she to tell you not to drink?
>Who is she to CARE?
>Eventually, she helps walk your ass to your house.
"Thanks..."
>You fumble through your pockets.
>You feel a distinct lack of keys.
>Great.
"Trix, I can't...I thought I had 'em..."
>"Thought you had what?"
>"..."
>"...oh you've got to be kidding me."
>Now she's just mad.
>Evident by her sudden ability to not just support you with magic.
>But carry your drunk ass through the streets.

>Eventually she makes it to her wagon.
>It's a LOT bigger on the inside.
>You'd marvel at it a lot more if you weren't so drunk.
>Trixie floats you in and plops you on the couch.
>She then falls on it herself, clearly exhausted.
>"That took a lot of effort on Trixie's part, I hope you know that!"
"Yeah...I must weigh a ton in...magical standards..."
>Your current state is not helping with the fact you have no idea how magic works.
>She sighs, and rests her head back.
>"You can be a handful sometimes."
"I'm not the only one, princess."
>No response, you probably rustled her jimmies.
>You'd apologize, but you could barely get THAT sentence out.
>You close your eyes, the weight from the alcohol bearing down on your eyelids.
"Thanks again...Trix..."
>You manage to slurr that out before lying to the side, letting sleep take over.

>You aren't asleep yet, though.
>Barely concious, you feel Trixie get up from her side of the couch.
>You hear her walks to another room.
>You hear her come back.
>Suddenly, you feel the comfort of a blanket covering you.
>She sighs lightly after covering you up.
>"Goodnight, Anon."
>You can't respond, or even open an eye.
>Hell, you'd be out cold, but you have no idea what's preventing you from sleeping.
>Then, in a brief flash, you feel a particular soft touch to your lips.
>"Please...don't remember that..."
>That's the last thing you hear before she walks off to another room, closing the door.
>You won't remember it, you KNOW you won't.
>But for the brief moment between you recieving it, and your body giving into unconciousness...
>...
>Out cold.

>You'll eventually wake up in her house, wonder how you got there and what happened.
>But that's another story.

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