xp_logs | Log - Is This the Only Game You Enjoy, Mister Ramsey? [Doug, Miss Locke, Forge, Jubilee]

In which our man Ramsey manages to play the house odds and reap the benefits, and our man Forge travels via suitcase.

"Table four. The blond guy in the sixth position. He's called our
spoilers for the last hour, and he's about to break the table if he
keeps on this run."

"No one can do that," Miss Locke told the pit boss, eyeing the man who
was on either an insane lucky streak or was the best grifter that the
casino had seen in months. "I believe he needs some time to cool
down."

"You want we should remove him?" The pit boss asked. Hired for his
intimidating size and not his mental acumen, he loved little more than
throwing well-dressed patrons out of the casino. Locke shook her head,
and he frowned. With a sigh, he nodded. "You want we should comp him a
better room and move him into the Velvet Lounge with the
high-rollers?"

"That would do nicely," Miss Locke purred. "Prepare the
Somerset-Maugham suite, I believe I shall go make the acquaintance of
our lucky friend."

As she walked off, the pit boss couldn't help but wonder if the guy's
luck was going for better or worse.

Doug smirked cockily. This was almost -too- damn easy. Watch the other
players, gauge his hand based on their really all too obvious body
language, sit back and occasionally count his steadily increasing
little fortress of chips.

The fortress wasn't on purpose. It just happened to look like one, he
thought. And focusing on the little castle of plastic meant he wasn't
focusing on over-hiding his own tells, or on the fact that he kept
almost forgetting that he was 'legal' whenever the roving waitress
asked if he wanted a new drink.

Miss Locke stopped a few steps behind where the young man was folding
his third hand in a row. He was playing excellently, she noticed,
herself a student of the game. The Texan was trying to catch him in a
subtle under-bluff, but the kid wasn't buying into it. And the house's
planted 'spoiler' across from him was near the breaking point, having
been cut out on the past ten hands.

Amateurs. This required a woman's touch.

Locke practically slithered up beside the young man, laying a hand on
the arm of his chair, dangerously close to his wrist. "Absolutely
remarkable," she whispered. "You play like you were born to the game."

Angie, Doug noted mentally, was going to kill him. But hopefully this
would be the 'hostess', or whatever clever title she was going to give
herself offering him the nice cushy comps.

After a quick up and down glance, that Doug hoped came across as him
trying to hide it and failing, he grinned lazily, and shrugged. "I
just watch a lot of celebrity poker, I guess." Which he did, so it
wasn't a lie. Which was the first rule, or so the cliche said, of a
good bluff. Tell the truth.

Locke laughed amiably, placing her hand on Doug's elbow. "You have an
amazing gift for it, then. Mister...?" She arched an eyebrow in
question, looking Doug over as blatantly as he had surveyed her.

"Docker." Doug answered. "Karl Docker.." Nice german sounding name
to go with his still mostly blond hair, and blue eyes. He grinned
openly at Locke and then glanced at the new hand he'd been dealt. Body
language and insane gift for math or not, -that- was a good hand.
That was a -sweet- hand. That was a hand on his elbow too, and he
shifted a little in his seat, thanking whoever was in charge of DNA
that Angie wasn't a telepath.

"Mister Docker. Karl," Locke purred sweetly. "I am Ms. Locke,
vice president of floor operations at the casino. Can I be frank with
you?" At Doug's slightest hint of a nod, she continued. "The
management would like to know if we can make your stay with us more...
comfortable. A run like this," she indicated the castle of chips in
front of Doug, "shouldn't be staying on the seventh floor. One of our
palatial suites has become available, and I'd like to offer it to you.
On the house, of course."

"A suite? That would be fantastic." He glanced at his cards again and
increased his bid. Really, that hand was too stupidly good to not
keep. The faintly tipsy surburban housewige on the end of the table
was definitly trying to bluff hard, the way she kept almost biting her
fingernails and then stopping herself. And if the guy at the end of
the table got any more agitated, Doug thought he'd combust. Which
would be a shame, since if he was guessing right, that was the
casino's plant, and the health insurance costs would be really nasty.

Locke glanced over at Doug's hand. Either Mister Docker was really an
utter novice who was lucking into the night of his life, or he was a
master card shark putting on the act of the century. Either way, she
noted to herself, she'd have the pit bosses watch him closely. If he
was cheating, he was either the best or the worst grifter who'd
stepped foot into the casino.

"We'll have your bags moved up for you, then."

"Oh excellent." Doug said, a bit distractedly as he dropped his cards
and collected another few towers of chips. He rearranged them a bit
so that he could continue to keep his hands visible and still see the
other players and ante'd up again. "Its really too bad there's a
limit on this table. I could've -seriously- cleaned up that last
hand.." No, it wasn't subtle at all. But then, he thought, it wasn't
meant to be.

The other gamblers were staring at Doug as if they could shoot lasers
at him from their seats. Ms. Locke merely smiled and nodded. "Enjoy
the rest of your evening, Karl. Perhaps it will all prove as...
fruitful."

-Fifteen minutes later-

"Housekeeping!"

"Excuse me?"

"Housekeeping, dude."

"Oh. Hey, I'm going to need a hand here."

"Forge? Dude? Where's, um... where's your other leg?"

"In the Samsonite over there. Be careful with it."

"Okay. And you're, um - dude, you're gonna try to fit in THAT?"

"Watch me."

"... okay, you are gonna fit. Need me to zip you up?"

"You don't have to smile that wide when you say that."

"Dude, I could make this a really bumpy ride."

"Jubilee?"

"Yeah, Forge?"

"You can be such a bitch."

"Nice talk, Forge. We've got fourteen stories to go."