Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Casino Night	By : GeorgeGlass Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 4267 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Loud House or its characters. I made no money writing this story. I have never actually visited Earth 17.2, but I've read all the guidebooks.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter 2: The Boiler Room
A bit startled by the hissing whisper, Lincoln looked to his left and saw a familiar red-haired, acne-speckled boy half-hidden behind the last locker on the wall.
“Rusty?” Lincoln said. “What are you doing back there?”
“C’mere a sec.”
Lincoln went over to Rusty, who was eyeing Lincoln’s full bucket of chips.
“Listen,” Rusty said. “You’ve obviously been winning big tonight.”
Oh no, Lincoln thought. He’s on to me. I’m going to get chucked out on my keister and banned from Casino Night for life just like Lisa.
“There’s a secret, high-stakes poker game down in the boiler room,” Rusty continued. “All the big winners are invited.”
“There’s a secret high-stakes poker game at a middle school fundraiser?” Lincoln asked.
Rusty shrugged. “Why wouldn’t there be?”
“Lincoln,” Lisa said into his ear, “you must accept Rushty’s invitation. I cannot imagine that we will have a better opportunity to acquire the requisite number of chips to obtain our respective prizes.”
“Well, um, I’m in,” Lincoln said to Rusty . “It sounds like, you know, fun.”
Rusty led Lincoln to a sparsely trafficked hallway, stopping in front of a metal door. Lincoln had never seen anyone but the janitor open this door, but Rusty produced a key as if from nowhere and unlocked it.
“Just head downstairs and tell them I sent you,” Rusty said. “I get a ten-chip commission for every loaded player I find, and I really want to win that penis enlar- I mean, milkshake blender.”
Rusty closed the door behind Lincoln. The concrete stairway was lit only by a few bare bulbs in the ceiling, and Lincoln felt a touch of trepidation as he descended. If it hadn’t been one of his buddies who’d sent him, Lincoln might have worried that he was about to get rolled for his chips.
He reached the bottom and found himself in a cinderblock-walled room. In its center sat a circular table topped with green felt and illuminated by a stained-glass-shaded chandelier that clearly had been hung here just for this occasion. There was a makeshift bar in the corner, and a an eighth-grade boy named Curtis, dressed in a red vest and black bow tie, was taking drink orders from the five players at the table.
“Grape juice, straight up,” Zach was saying.
“Ginger ale for me,” said Girl Jordan. The cute girl’s light-brown hair was in its usual braided ponytail, but instead of her standard yellow T-shirt and knee-length blue skirt, she had on a short black crushed-velvet cocktail dress.
“I’ll take a scotch and soda,” Scoots said.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Curtis replied. “We don’t have a liquor license.”
“Ugh, I might as well have stayed at the rest home. Gimme a lime rickey.”
Lincoln could almost see Curtis making a mental note to find out what a lime rickey was before the boy turned to the next person at the table.
“Lemonade, please,” said Agnes Johnson, Lincoln’s teacher from the previous year.
“I’d like a sparkling water,” Carol Pingrey said.
Lincoln’s gaze paused on Carol, although he tried to be subtle about it. The attractive blonde teenager, who attended college locally, was a friend of Lori’s, and Lincoln had long wished to get under her purple sweater and short brown skirt. But Lori had always cockblocked him, usually with some snooty remark about how her little brother couldn’t possibly satisfy one of her mature teenage friends.
But now, Lori’s away at college, Lincoln thought. This could be my chance to impress Carol and maybe get a date with her.
“Lincoln,” Lisa said just loud enough to startle the boy out of his train of thought, “I will remind you to keep your attention focused on the game when it begins, and not to be distracted by Carol’s various attractive features, most eshpecially her lustrous hair and perky breasts.”
Lincoln briefly wondered whether his brilliant little sister might have a thing for Carol herself. He forced himself to look away from the attractive teenager and when Curtis approached him.
“Did Rusty send you?” he asked.
“Yeah. And I’ll have an orange soda.”
“Got it,” Curtis said, and headed to the bar.
Now, Lincoln noticed Agnes Johnson looking at him in what he guessed was much the same way he’d just been looking at Carol. This wasn’t a complete surprise; during his year in the woman’s fifth-grade class, Lincoln had noticed little signs that she was into him, like the way she would bend over and give him a good look down her sweater-cleavage whenever she handed him his graded homework.
“Nice to see you, Lincoln,” the woman said a bit suggestively. “How is middle school treating you?”
“So far so good,” Lincoln replied.
Agnes leaned closer and said in a low voice, “You know, now that you’re not my student anymore, you and I can fuck any time we want.”
“Wow,” Lincoln replied, feeling a stirring in his blue suit pants. “That sounds…fun.”
“Lincoln,” Lisa said, “do not let that middle-aged seductress dishtract you from the task at hand.”
As Curtis fetched everyone’s drinks, another, more familiar tuxedoed young man appeared: Clyde. His ensemble had the opposite color scheme to Curtis’, with a black jacket and a red bow tie, which the boy adjusted as he walked slowly around the table of players.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Clyde said. “The name of the game is Texas Hold ‘Em, and I’ll be your host.”
So this is why I didn’t see Clyde upstairs, Lincoln thought. Makes sense that he’s running a poker game; he loves Ace Savvy and One-Eyed Jack as much as I do.
“Each of you,” Clyde continued, “was invited to this game because you have enough chips to buy in. So please put a hundred chips on the table now, and we’ll get started.”
Everyone placed their buckets on the table and counted out one hundred chips, putting them in neat stacks. Lincoln couldn’t see into the other players’ buckets, but he got the impression that none of them had as many chips as he.
“Hmm, it’s a little warm down here,” Carol said.
Lincoln didn’t think it was particularly warm, but Carol probably didn’t either. He watched as Carol sensuously peeled off her purple sweater to reveal a matching purple blouse with a plunging neckline that revealed the inner curves of her perky breasts.
“It sheems,” Lisa said, “that this game will be plagued with distractions. Maintain your focush.”
Clyde quickly explained the rules. At the start of every hand, each player would be dealt two cards. Then several “community cards” would be dealt face-up onto the table. All things being equal, the player who could make the best poker hand—a pair, two pair, three of a kind, and so forth—from their own cards and the community cards would win.
Now, Clyde skillfully shuffled the deck and let Mrs. Johnson cut it. Finally, he dealt one card to each of the six players and said, “Whoever has the highest card will be our first dealer.”
They all turned their cards over. Girl Jordan had the king of hearts—the highest card on the table. Clyde then retrieved the six dealt cards, shuffled the deck again, and handed it to Girl Jordan. She cut the deck and, per Clyde’s instructions, dealt two face-down “hole” cards to each player. Lincoln picked up his cards and saw that he had the two of hearts and the seven of clubs.
“You are probably dishappointed with your initial draw,” Lisa said in Lincoln’s ear. “However, it is entirely possible that the cardsh that will appear in the ‘flop’ will enable you to conshtruct a winning hand. I shuggest that you proceed with play for now.”
Carol, who was sitting to Girl Jordan’s left, now started the betting with a “small blind” of two chips. Then Zach, sitting on Carol’s left, put in a “big blind” of four chips.
“Call,” said Scoots, adding four chips to the pot to match the big blind.
Now it was Lincoln’s turn. “Call,” he said, putting in four chips. Agnes Johnson and Girl Jordan did the same.
“And here comes the ‘flop,’” Clyde said. “Girl Jordan, please deal three community cards face-up in the center of the table.”
Girl Jordan dealt three cards: the two of diamonds, the jack of diamonds, and the three of spades.
At this point, Carol could have said “check” and thus remained in the game without actually making a bet. Or she could have raised. But instead she said, “I call,” and put in four more chips. Lincoln inferred that she probably had an okay hand that she hoped would improve with the next cards dealt.
Because Carol had called, no one else at the table would be able to check during this round of betting. But Zach didn’t seem at all hesitant to say “I call” and push in four more chips. Scoots did the same.
“Now would be the time to withdraw from play,” Lisa said. “You almost certainly cannot win with a pair of twos, and your oddsh of the next two cards giving you a substantially better hand are miniscule.”
Now it was Lincoln’s turn. He put his cards face-down on the table and said, “I fold.”
“Now,” Lisa said, “use thish opportunity to observe the other players. My microexpression analysis software can collect data to identify any ‘tells’ the other players may have. However, do not look at the two players adjacent to you—Scoots and Mrs. Johnson—unlessh you can do so inconspicuously. We do not wish to arouse suspicion.”
So Lincoln tried to be subtle in eying Agnes and Girl Jordan as they took their turns. Like Lincoln, they both folded.
“Girl Jordan,” Clyde said, “time to add the ‘turn’ card to the table.”
Girl Jordan dealt a fourth face-up card next to the first three. Lincoln glanced at it just long enough to see that it was the queen of diamonds before he looked at the other players.
“Ah-hah,” Lisa said. “My facial analysis program detected a thirteen-millisecond upturn in the corners of Zach’s mouth: a split-second smile. It is probable that he is pleased by this latesht card.”
Carol started the new round of betting with “I call” and put in four more chips. Then Zach said, “I raise” and pushed in eight chips.
Scoots’ eyes narrowed as she looked between her hole cards and the cards on the table. Then she scowled and slapped her hole cards down as she said, “I fold.”
Because Zach had raised, play returned to Carol, who had to decide whether to call and match Zach’s bet, raise the bet further, or fold. After a moment, she said, “I call” and added four more chips to the pile so that her bet was equal to Zach’s raise.
Now, at Clyde’s direction, Girl Jordan dealt the final community card, known as the ‘river’ card. It was the five of hearts, but Lincoln saw this only in the lower quadrant of his peripheral vision, as he was trying to keep his eyes on Zach and Carol’s faces.
“Intriguing,” Lisa said. “I have just observed a twitch in Carol’s eyebrows, followed by a momentary corrugation of the frontalis muscle of the forehead, and then a fractional smile. I believe she has just deduced that this final card will be helpful to her.”
Lincoln wasn’t sure how Lisa had seen these movements, given that Carol’s blond bangs covered most of her forehead, but he assumed she had a way. The movement Lincoln did see was Carol subtly pushing out her chest, momentarily drawing Zach’s gaze down to her cleavage.
Carol raised, putting in sixteen chips, and Zach raised, too, pushing thirty-two chips into the pot. Then Carol added another sixteen chips as she said, “I call.”
“Read ‘em and weep,” Zach said, putting his hole cards on the table: a pair of queens. He pointed to these and the third queen on the table and said, “Three of a kind.”
With a wicked little grin, Carol replied, “I’m afraid I won’t be the one weeping.”
She put her cards on the table—the ace of diamonds and the four of clubs—then serially pointed to her ace, the two of diamonds and three of hearts on the table, then her four of clubs, then the five of hearts on the table as she pronounced, “I’ve got a straight: ace through five.”
As Zach grimaced, Carol swept the pot—a hundred and ten chips in all—into the pile in front of her. She made a bit of a show of organizing them by denomination.
Clyde collected all of the discarded cards on the table and put them aside. Then he moved the black button one space to the left, from Girl Jordan to Carol, and handed Carol the deck of as-yet unplayed cards as he said, “Carol, it’s your deal.”
“This is a fortunate turn of eventsh,” Lisa said. “By continuing to the next hand without returning the discarded cards to the deck and reshuffling, Clyde is unwittingly giving ush an advantage. We know the value of eleven of the cards already played—the five community cards, and the hole cards held by Zach, Girl Jordan, and yourself. Thus, we can eliminate the possibility of any of these cards appearing in the next hand.”
Carol dealt the hole cards. Lincoln received the six of diamonds and the nine of hearts, which struck him as not particularly good or bad. Apparently, Lisa had the same impression, because after Zach and Scoots put in the small and big blinds, respectively, Lisa advised Lincoln to check. He did, and so did Agnes, Girl Jordan, and Carol. Apparently, none of them was particularly excited about their hole cards.
Now, at Clyde’s direction, Carol dealt the three flop cards: six of clubs, nine of diamonds, and ace of hearts.
“This is optimal!” Lisa exclaimed. “You now have two pair, which in itself has a reasonable probability of winning. What is more, based upon the available data, there is an approximately thirty-two-point-two percent chance that another six or nine will appear as the turn or river card, thereby giving you a full house and further enhancing your oddsh of success.”
Zach and Scoots both checked, but Lincoln raised, putting in eight chips. Anges then folded, while Girl Jordan and Carol called, matching Lincoln’s bet. Now forced to bet or quit, Zach and Scoots put in eight chips each, as well.
“Time for the turn,” Clyde announced.
To the line of three cards on the table, Carol added a fourth, leaning forward gratuitously as she did so. It was an effort for Lincoln to focus on her face and not her cleavage as she turned the card over to reveal that it was the three of diamonds.
This time around, Zach called and put in eight more chips. Scoots scowled and folded.
“My facial analysis software,” Lisa said to Lincoln, “informs me that Zach may have benefitted from the addition of the three of diamonds to the community cards. I suggest you call.”
Lincoln was about to do so when he saw Girl Jordan looking at him with a naughty little smile. When he made eye contact with her, she took a sip of her ginger ale, then ran the tip of her tongue slowly up the underside of her straw before putting the beverage down.
“I will remind you to remain focushed,” Lisa said.
Lincoln called and added another eight chips. Girl Jordan folded poutily, clearly disappointed that she’d failed to throw Lincoln off his game. Then Carol called.
“Okay, Carol,” Clyde said. “Go ahead and put down the river card.”
Carol took the top card from the deck, flipped it face up, and placed it at the end of the line of community cards. Lincoln was trying to suppress a smile when Lisa’s shout in his ear forced him to suppress a wince instead.
“Yesh!” she cried. “The nine of shpades! We have a full house!”
Zach checked, and with Scoots out, it was now Lincoln’s bet. On Lisa’s advice, he raised and put in sixteen chips, whereupon all the other players still in the game folded.
“Lincoln wins the hand,” Clyde announced.
Lincoln was glad to have won, but he couldn’t help but be disappointed that no one had chosen to bet in the final round and thus add to the pile of chips he now added to his own stack. He’d won seventy, making his table-cache a neat 150.
Clyde moved the black button in front of Zach, designating him the dealer for the next hand. Then, Clyde collected all of the played cards and put them in a pile with the others as Zach picked up the deck.
“Ha-HAH!” Lisa shouted with uncharacteristic glee; Lincoln had to force himself not to jump in startlement. “We are most fortunate. In a game of Texas Hold ‘Em involving six players, each hand requires precisely seventeen cardsh; thus, given a deck of fifty-two, it is possible to play three full hands without reincorporating the discarded cards into the deck and reshuffling. However, I was not certain that Clyde would proceed in this fashion.”
Zach dealt each player their two hole cards. Lincoln found himself holding the seven of spades and the ten of hearts.
“This hand is at least potentially promising,” Lisa said. “Of the eighteen cards we know are no longer in the deck, none are tens, and only one is a seven.”
Lincoln was surprised by the sensation of a hand alighting on his left thigh. He turned his head to look at Agnes, who gave him a naughty smile and said in a low voice, “I need a good luck charm. And you seem pretty lucky.”
Scoots put in the small blind of two chips and Lincoln the big blind of four. Agnes, Girl Jordan, and Carol all called, putting in four chips apiece.
“I raise,” Zach said.
Lincoln’s white eyebrows lifted. He hadn’t expected anybody to raise before the flop. Either Zach had a pair of something good right off the bat, or he had decided to start his bluffing early. Zach had the smallest pile of chips—now only twenty-six after his raise—and probably not much more in his bucket, so making a big bet would put him at risk of having to drop out of the game. That made Lincoln think that Zach must have something good. Or was that just what Zach wanted everyone to think? The red-haired, bespectacled boy came from a family of conspiracy theorists, so Lincoln wouldn’t put it past him to use reverse psychology, or reverse reverse psychology. He hoped Lisa might pass along a hint from her facial analysis program, but she did not speak.
The betting went around the table again. Scoots called and added six chips to the two she had put in as her small blind, thus matching Zach’s bet of eight. Lincoln matched Zach’s with another four chips, and so did Agnes, Girl Jordan, and Carol.
“Time for the flop,” Clyde said.
From the six cards left in the deck, Zach dealt three onto the table: the eight of spades, the ten of diamonds, and the jack of hearts. Now, Lincoln had a pair of tens.
Beneath the table, Agnes’ hand moved up Lincoln’s thigh to his crotch. His member began to harden when her fingers traced it through his suit pants.
The betting began, and Scoots checked. On Lisa’s advice, Lincoln called, putting in eight chips. Agnes did the same. Then Girl Jordan raised, making the bet sixteen chips. Carol and Zach called, putting in sixteen chips each.
Now, some of the players had a difficult decision to make. Scoots, who had checked, grunted and put in sixteen chips to match the current bet. Lincoln and Agnes, who had called, put in eight each. Lincoln was surprised that no one had yet folded. He was also surprised at how hard Agnes was managing to make him with her hand alone.
“Ah,” she murmured, closing her fingers around his thick member. “There’s my good luck charm.”
Zach dealt the turn card: the eight of hearts. The eight of spades was already on the table, so now everyone had at least a pair of eights.
In addition to his rising horniness, Lincoln could feel tension in the air. Everyone was still in, and now the starting bet would be a substantial sixteen chips.
“Lincoln,” Lisa said, “I advise you that Carol had a seventeen-millisecond smile when she saw a second eight placed on the table. I would guess that she is holding one of the two remaining eights, giving her three of a kind. Also, for reasons unclear to me, Zach evidenced a brief look of distress.” Lincoln was glad that Lisa couldn’t see his face, or what was going on under the table, or she would no doubt yell at him again about maintaining his focus.
Scoots started the round of bets by calling, putting in sixteen chips. Now it was Lincoln’s turn.
“I shuggest you call, as well,” said Lisa. “Although it seems likely that Carol has three of a kind, there is a moderate probability that the river card will result in your having another full housh.”
Lincoln called, Agnes folded, and Girl Jordan called. Then Carol raised, pushing a pile of thirty-two chips into the pot.
“Huh-huh, no way,” Zach said. “I’m out.” He put his hole cards face-down on the table, looking oddly relieved.
The betting was back to Scoots. She called and put in another sixteen chips. Lincoln, on Lisa’s advice, did the same. So did Girl Jordan.
The deck now consisted of only two cards. Zach pushed the top one into the middle of the table and turned it over. It was the three of clubs.
“Alas,” Lisa said, “we cannot win with two pair. When our turn comes, we musht fold.”
Scoots took her time deciding what to do, then folded, as did Lincoln. Now it was down to Girl Jordan and Carol. Girl Jordan called, pushing in all thirty-two of her remaining chips. Then Carol called, too.
“It may interesht you to know,” Lisa said to Lincoln, “that I have just detected a microexpression of panic on Girl Jordan’s face. I believe she is realizing that she has erred.”
At that moment, Lincoln wasn’t paying too much attention to the game. Agnes was moving her hand slowly up and down his long, thick shaft, skillfully masturbating him through his suit pants and his black silk boxers, which had been a Christmas gift from Ronnie Anne.
Girl Jordan put her hole cards on the table: the ten and king of spades. Combined with the ten and two eights in the community cards, that gave her two pair. Carol, in addition to the king of diamonds, had the eight of clubs, giving her three of a kind.
“Sorry, kid,” Carol said to the younger blonde, “but I’m not that easy to bluff.” Then she swept the big pot into her pile, which gave her a whopping four hundred chips even.
“Whew,” Zach said, “glad that hand’s over.”
He turned over his hole cards and showed that he’d been holding a pair of aces. Being a fan of both Ace Savvy and Cowboy Trails comics, Lincoln knew that a pair of aces plus a pair of eights was the legendarily unlucky Dead Man’s Hand: the cards that Wild Bill Hickok had supposedly been holding when he was shot dead at a saloon in Deadwood.
No wonder Zach freaked out when he dealt that second eight, Lincoln thought. He’s always been the superstitious type.
“Ladies and gents,” Clyde said, “that concludes the first round. Right now, if you have less than a hundred chips on the table but you’ve still got chips in your bucket, you can refill your table cache—but not to more than a hundred.”
Lincoln then looked at the stack of chips in front of him and felt a stab of disappointment. Despite all his Lisa-conferred advantages, he had to add six chips to his cache just to get back to a hundred. Hopefully, whatever data Lisa had collected during the first three hands would help him in the next three.
But at least he was doing better than Girl Jordan, who had no chips on the table and scarcely more than a handful in her bucket. Lincoln knew she wouldn’t last long if she played on with such a small cache.
“Ugh, I’m almost cleaned out,” Girl Jordan groused. Then she looked at Lincoln with a sexy, hopeful little smile.
“Lincoln,” she said, sweetly and sexily. “Give me eighty-five in chips to bring me back to an even hundred, and I’ll swallow that monster dick of yours—right here, right now.” She got up from her chair, came over to him, put her lips to his ear, and murmured, “To the balls.”
Lincoln was so horny from Agnes’ attentions that he didn’t give the proposal a millisecond’s thought before he replied, “Um, uh, yeah!” and stood up.
“Lincoln, you hairless ape!” Lisa shouted in his ear as Girl Jordan dropped to her knees in front of Lincoln and freed his substantial, already hardening cock from his blue suit-pants. “We can’t afford to give away chips so you can engage in-! Oh. Oh my. Her control over her pharyngeal reflex is mosht impreshive.”
Indeed, in just a couple of gulps, Girl Jordan had swallowed the entire length of Lincoln’s erect member, her nose pressing against Lincoln’s pubis. Instantly aroused beyond the point of self-control, Lincoln seized Girl Jordan’s head in both hands and fucked her face and throat.
“Oh, fuck,” he gasped as he thrust against her pretty face again and again, causing Girl Jordan’s throat muscles to massage much of his length. “Oh, fuck, that’s so good…”
Lisa had possessed a voyeuristic streak practically since birth. One of her earliest memories was standing up in her crib to get a better view of her parents fucking in their bed. So she zoomed in on the place where Lincoln’s cock was going in and out of Girl Jordan’s mouth; then Lisa stripped naked and tossed her clothes in a heap on her bed before sitting back down and spreading her legs to expose her puffy, hairless pussy.
“Masturbot, initialize!” she commanded. “Shtimulation level one.”
Her desk chair seemed to come to life. Between her pale, slightly chubby thighs, a thin robotic tentacle with a silicone tip emerged from the seat and began to diddle Lisa’s clit, slowly but with great dexterity. Two more such tentacles extended from the arms of the chair and teased Lisa’s small, pink nipples.
“Mmmm, very nice,” Lisa murmured.
Her eyes remained glued to the screen. Lincoln’s considerable cock size and equally considerable libido made him a fascinating subject for observation. Lisa already felt her arousal rising higher.
“Masturbot, accelerate clitoral stimulation.”
As the other players at the table watched, Lincoln fucked Girl Jordan’s face at full speed. He hadn’t throat-fucked a girl since Cristina swallowed his dick during a game of Truth or Dare at Liam’s coed “barn sleepover.” (This was far from the most extreme thing anyone had done on a dare that night, as Lincoln’s frenemy Chandler and Liam’s nanny goat Matilda could attest.) Lincoln had forgotten how much he liked it.
“Gonna…cum…Girl…Jordan…” Lincoln grunted. “Right…down…your…THROAT!”
With a loud grunt, Lincoln thrust into Girl Jordan’s mouth to the balls and shot a big load down the girl’s throat as promised. Girl Jordan swallowed again and again, her throat muscles working visibly around Lincoln’s thick shaft until he finally finished.
Lisa watched this with great interest; she knew well what large cumloads her brother was capable of producing, and it excited her to watch Lincoln pump the full volume of it into the kneeling Girl Jordan’s stomach without a single drop escaping her mouth. In fact, Lisa found the sight so compelling that she closed her small hand around her headset mic and shouted “Aaah!” as she came.
Girl Jordan slowly pulled her face away from Lincoln’s crotch, releasing inch after inch of shiny-slick cock from her mouth until the half-tumescent organ fell free. Girl Jordan panted for breath while Lincoln wiped off his cock with a hand towel that Clyde had handed him. Then Lincoln re-fastened his pants and sat down. Girl Jordan, also back in her chair, looked at him expectantly.
“That…was definitely…worth
…eighty-five…chips,” Lincoln panted, sliding a stack of his chips over to Girl Jordan.
“That was a hell of a load, Lincoln,” Girl Jordan said, licking her lips. “It’s no wonder you knocked up Ronnie Anne on the first try.”
How does she know about that? Lincoln wondered.
Then Girl Jordan gave Lincoln a sexy smile. “So, wanna see what I’d do for a hundred chips?”
Lisa snapped out of her post-orgasmic reverie and barked, “Absholutely not!”
Unperturbed, and with a dreamy smile on his face, Lincoln replied to Girl Jordan, “I’m good.”
“Well, that was a heck of a halftime show,” Clyde said, fanning his face with his hand. “Now, we’re on to the second round, and the stakes are higher; the small blind is four chips, and the big blind is eight. Scoots, it’s your deal.” He slid the button in front of her.
As Clyde shuffled the cards and then handed the deck to Scoots, it occurred to Lincoln that although being in the small blind position would give him the advantage of starting with a smaller bet than the others, it would also force him to place his bets before everyone else placed theirs, giving him and Lisa less information to go on.
Scoots cut the deck and dealt the hole cards. Lincoln glanced at his—the six and ace of hearts—and then looked at as many of the other players’ faces as he could.
“No useful facial data as yet,” Lisa said. “No one is particularly pleased or dishappointed with their initial draw. Exshept perhaps for Zach, who frowned for approximately thirteen milliseconds.”
“Lincoln,” Clyde said, “please start us off with the small blind.”
Lincoln put in four chips, and Agnes put in the big blind of eight. Everyone else called except Zach, who folded. Given how few chips Zach had left, Lincoln wasn’t surprised to see him fold so early.
“Time for the flop, Scoots,” Clyde said.
Scoots dealt three cards onto the table: the five of spades, the jack of spades, and the six of clubs.
Lincoln, who now had a pair of sixes, checked. Then Agnes called, putting in eight chips. Girl Jordan and Carol folded, but Scoots chose to call. Lincoln called as well, and now the hand was down to Lincoln and the two adult women on either side of him.
“Time for the turn,” Clyde said.
Scoots added a fourth card to the table: the seven of clubs.
Not helpful, Lincoln thought. He started the betting round by checking.
“Oh, come on now, Lincoln,” Agnes said, licking her lips suggestively. “Let’s make this fun. I raise.” She pushed sixteen chips into the pot.
“Mrs. Johnson’s facial data are not entirely conclusive,” Lisa said, “but they suggest that she may be bluffing. If Scoots calls, then so should we.”
Scoots did indeed call, so Lincoln did the same.
Now, Scoots dealt the river card. Lincoln tried not to show his excitement when it was the six of diamonds.
“We should raise,” Lisa said. “It is highly improbable that either Scoots or Mrs. Johnson has something better than your three of a kind.”
Lincoln considered this. Raising seemed appealing, but he didn’t want to tip off Agnes or Scoots that he suddenly had a good hand; they would probably guess that he was holding a third six and promptly fold, just as they had during the hand Lincoln won with a full house. So instead he said, “Check.”
“Lincoln, what are you doing?” Lisa demanded.
Agnes smiled at him and said, “Raise.” She added thirty-two chips to the pot.
Lincoln didn’t need facial analysis software to notice the dirty look that Scoots briefly shot Agnes. Scoots called.
“I call,” Lincoln said, adding thirty-two chips. This left only eight in his cache on the table.
Lincoln showed his cards. Both women groaned because they each only had two pair: the two sixes on the table, plus jacks for Agnes and fives for Scoots.
As Lincoln swept the pot into his cache, Lisa sighed and conceded, “Well played, Lincoln. Thish hand would not have been so profitable without your psychological insight.”
Clyde now moved the button in front of Lincoln, then shuffled the deck and let Lincoln cut it and deal the hole cards. At Lisa’s behest, Lincoln watched the faces of Carol, Girl Jordan, and Zach as they looked at their cards before he looked at his own: the seven of diamonds and the ace of clubs.
Agnes put in the small blind and Girl Jordan the big one. Carol and Zach checked, thus declining to place a bet, but then Scoots called and forced them, as well as Lincoln, to commit one way or the other. All three players called and put in eight chips.
“Lincoln,” Clyde said, “please deal the flop.”
The white-haired boy dealt three cards onto the table: the four of hearts, the eight of spades, and, to Lincoln’s gratification, the ace of diamonds.
The next betting round began. Agnes, Girl Jordan, Carol, and Zach all checked. But then Scoots called, forcing Lincoln into a decision.
“A pair of aces is a strong shtart,” Lisa said, “but we know the deck contains no more than one additional ace. I shuggest you call.”
Lincoln called, and so did all the players who had checked. Thus, by the end of the betting round, each player had added eight chips to the pot.
At Clyde’s behest, Lincoln dealt the turn card: the ten of spades.
“Not helpful,” Lisa said, “either to us or to the other players in your line of sight. Although Girl Jordan had a momentary flash of what my algorithm identifies as hope.”
The betting went exactly as it had the previous round: Agnes, Girl Jordan, Carol, and Zach all checked, and Scoots called, forcing Lincoln to do the same. And again, all of the players who had checked then called.
“River time, Lincoln,” Clyde said.
Lincoln dealt the final community card: the queen of diamonds.
“Lincoln,” Lisa said, “my facial analysis program just saw a micro-smile on Zach’s face and a brief expression of dishappointment on Girl Jordan’s.”
Once again, Agnes, Girl Jordan, and Carol checked. But this time, Zach called and put in eight chips.
“All in,” Scoots said, shoving her last twelve chips into the pot.
“I call,” said Lincoln, who matched her twelve-chip bet.
“Mrs. Johnson,” Clyde said, “the betting is back to you.”
She put her cards face down on the table and sighed, “I fold.”
“Fold,” said Girl Jordan.
“Fold,” said Carol.
“Call,” said Zach, adding four chips to match Scoots and Lincoln’s bets.
Clyde said, “Okay, Lincoln, Zach, Scoots, cards on the table.”
They all laid their hands down at once. Lincoln’s pair of aces—one in his hand and one among the community cards—beat Zach’s pair of queens…but not Scoots’ three-of-a kind aces, which included the ace of spades and the ace of hearts in her hand.
Crap, Lincoln thought. I really needed this win.
He glanced at his watch. It was getting late, and it seemed unlikely that he could get his chip count to five hundred before Casino Night ended.
Dang it, I really thought this was going to work.
“Ha-hah!” Scoots exclaimed. She reached for the pot, saying, “Come to mama!”
“Lincoln,” Lisa said, “I believe I should point out that you played the ace of hearts in the previous hand. It is therefore imposshible for Scoots to have it…unless she is cheating.”
Holy cow, she’s right!
“Wait a second,” Lincoln said. He stood up and pointed at Scoots’ cards. “I had the ace of hearts last hand. You all saw it.” He raised his pointing finger toward Scoots. “You literally had that ace up your sleeve!”
For a moment, Scoots looked flustered. Then she barked, “Ha! Maybe your ace of hearts was the fake! Might explain your winning streak.”
Despite his outrage, Lincoln was struck speechless. He suddenly felt like a fool—not to mention a hypocrite—for calling attention to another player’s cheating when he was cheating so egregiously himself.
He glanced at Clyde, hoping for intervention, but Clyde appeared to be texting someone. Thankfully, another player spoke up on Lincoln’s behalf.
“Lincoln won the last hand with three sixes,” Carol said. “Why would he use a fake ace when it wouldn’t give him a better hand?”
Scoots was opening her mouth to retort when Clyde said, “Everyone, no need to argue. I can tell you which ace is the fake.”
He took Scoots’ ace of hearts, then found its counterpart in the stack of discards and placed both cards face-down on the table. From behind the bar, Clyde fetched what looked like a hand-size fluorescent lamp. When he held it over the two aces, a previously invisible diagonal line—obviously drawn on the card by hand—glowed purple on one card but not the other. Lincoln noticed that the other face-down cards close to Clyde had glowing diagonal lines, too.
“All cards in the house deck are marked with a UV pen,” Clyde declared. Then he looked at Scoots. “You’re not the first person to try the ‘ace up the sleeve’ trick. I’m afraid you’re out, Scoots.”
“This is a bunch of bull!” the old woman shouted.
The door at the top of the basement stairs opened, and down came the pair of burly eighth-grade boys who had been with Principal Rivers earlier.
So that’s who Clyde was texting, Lincoln thought.
Scoots fired up her scooter and somehow raced it right up the stairs past the boys. In her former spot at the table, a single playing card floated to the floor like a fallen leaf. Clyde picked it up, ran his black light over it to reveal its invisible stripe, then showed its face to the players.
“The five of hearts,” he said. “This was Scoots’ real second hole card.
“In any case, Scoots has been officially ejected from the game. So according to the house rules, Lincoln wins this hand.”
“Nice!” Lincoln said, sweeping the pot into his pile.
Clyde glanced at his watch and said, “All right, folks, Casino Night is almost over, so this will be our final hand.”
“Lincoln,” Lisa said, “thanks to your interlude with Girl Jordan, we are six chips short of five hundred. As you have no cash and thus cannot obtain more chips by purchase, we musht be victorious.”
Only six chips short!? Lincoln thought. Why didn’t I at least try to haggle with Girl Jordan? Oh, right, because that’s not the head I was thinking with.
“Mrs. Johnson, it’s your deal,” Clyde said, moving the button in front of her.
After Clyde shuffled, Agnes cut the deck and dealt the hole cards.
“Facial analysis shows no particularly strong reactions,” Lisa said.
Lincoln looked at his own cards and saw that he had both the jack and the queen of hearts—a good starting combo, he thought. Especially after Lisa spoke again.
“The card-counting algorithm suggests a high probability of multiple additional hearts in the deck, including ones numerically adjacent to yours.”
Girl Jordan put in the small blind, and Carol the big one. Zach, Lincoln, and Agnes all called.
Agnes dealt the flop: the three of diamonds, the nine of hearts, and the king of hearts. Lincoln tried not to show his joy at being one card away from a straight or a flush—or both.
“I should warn you,” Lisa said, “that all players in your field of vision appear to be satisfied with the flop cards.”
Well, so am I, Lincoln thought.
Girl Jordan called. Then Carol, who still had the biggest pile of chips on the table, raised.
Looking at his mere twenty-one chips, Zach sighed, “Time to cut my losses. I’m out.”
Lincoln definitely wanted to stay in, but needing only a few more chips to make five hundred, he saw no point in betting more than he had to.
“Call,” he said, putting in sixteen.
“Call,” Agnes said confidently, and added her chips.
“Call,” said Girl Jordan. She added another eight chips to the pot, making it an even hundred.
“Well, this is getting very interesting,” Clyde said. “Mrs. Johnson, please deal the turn card.”
Agnes turned over a card and put it on the table. It was the seven of spades.
“No useful facial data at this time,” Lisa said.
Girl Jordan started the betting round by calling.
“I raise,” Carol said, pushing thirty-two chips into the pot.
Lincoln had no choice but to call, adding thirty-two chips of his own.
Agnes glanced down at her twenty-four chips. Lincoln knew she had a tough choice: go all in, or hang it up.
“Too rich for my blood,” she said. “I fold.”
“Me too,” Girl Jordan sighed, putting down her cards.
Now, it was just Lincoln and Carol, with one community card left to be dealt. If that card were a ten, he’d have a straight; if it were a heart, he’d have a flush; and if someone up there really, really liked him and it was the ten of hearts, he’d have a straight flush, which was virtually unbeatable.
“Watch Carol’s face very carefully,” Lisa instructed. “It is vital that we observe-”
“Hey, Lisa!” Lincoln heard his tomboy sister Lana shout in the background. “Check out my new water gun!”
There was a loud squirting sound, and then Lisa cried “NO! You buffoon, look what you’ve done to my laptop! Bring me a kilogram of uncooked rice and Father’s resealable lasagna carrier at once!”
Agnes dealt the last card: the four of clubs. Lincoln could feel his heart sink inside his chest.
“I call,” Carol said, putting in thirty-two chips—then casually hooking one finger In the bottom of her blouse’s V-neck and pulling it down farther, exposing more of her breasts to Lincoln’s gaze. Lincoln doubted that he would have been able to focus on the game had Girl Jordan not given him such a satisfying climax.
“Lincoln,” Lisa said—through gritted teeth from the sound of it—”we must raise.”
Raise? Lincoln thought. Is she nuts? There’s no way I’m going to win this hand with queen high.
Perhaps in response to Lincoln’s hesitation, Lisa said, “Much as I do not enjoy the deceptive aspects of this game, the time has come to bluff. Before my computer was so barbarically dishabled, my algorithm showed a substantial likelihood that the ten of hearts either remains in the deck or was in the hand of one of the players who has folded,” Lisa said. “If so, Carol cannot be certain that you do not have it—and, thus, that you do not have a straight flush.”
Lincoln swallowed and said, “I raise.” Then he shoved a whopping sixty-four chips into the pot.
Please fold, please fold, please fold… Lincoln thought.
Carol looked across the table at Lincoln with a wicked smile. Then she added thirty-two chips to the pot and said, “I call.”
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Casino Night