I looked up from my deck of cards, death-stared into the soul of that fat, sleazy bastard. Porkchop had his eyes glued to the ace of spades, though. He knew about how it all went down before. He did not want to risk anything. Bad move. Life is all about risk. You win some, you lose some.
“Which one do you want to pick?”
He finally asked. And I responded:
“Anything goes…”
He threw in the ace of spades. That idiot. I could see he was having a hard time concealing that smug grin on his face. He probably thought he was a fucking genius. He thought he could just walk away from this table, leaving nothing on it. Poor sob.
“Want more of the poison?” Miles asked, rubbing his gray mustache. Porkchop could not conceal that sweet excitement. He was flapping his grubby mittens and swinging back and forth in his chair like a little kid who mugged his friend off a lollipop.
He ordered not one, but two glasses. Then another two. Then another two. He was going two by two. He did not care. He thought he was winning, after all. He had no idea how much he was about to lose. Poor sob.
He had his eyes glued on the ace of spades on the table. With the confidence from the tonic wearing off, I could see that he now had second doubts about wasting his most valuable card. He did not know my deck after all. Don’t rush if you don’t even know where you’re rushing into. Life is all about risk after all.
He did not want to risk anything, so he risked his biggest card. What a move. Sleazy bastard, thinking he is so smart.
“Which one do you pick?”
I was the one asking this time. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, his confidence wavering. The bitter-tasting fear now evident in those small eyes, plain as day, glowing as the empty mug.
“Anything goes…”
That idiot. He did not want to lose face. Even at this moment, that is what he was thinking about. Imbecile.
I did not grin like a lizard. I did not say anything quirky or annoying. I looked at him dead in the eyes, seeing his blank soul. He had his eyes glued on the ace of spades. Poor sob.
I threw in the hearts. I could see that his was sinking. He looked back at me, he looked back at the ace of spades. His sweaty complexion was now full of regret.
It’s too late now, Porkchop. Such is life, you know. Chance…Fate…Free will…Win some…Lose some…Win a little, lose it all… Lose a little, win back bigger. You know…
But he screamed so much though. He let the whole tavern in on the occasion with his annoying shrieks. Even Miles was quietly plucking his mustache in a corner, he did that when he was pissed off.
They had to use the largest cleaver for him, etched on it was the ace of spades. His big, fatty body was simply too resistant to the small knives. The huge meat cleaver did the trick fairly quickly though. Good thing too. I was vexed enough by the screams as it is. I wish I could see him when he was being carved up. That was against the rules though.
They brought his heart to the table. I thanked the head brother kindly for his work, and Miles for the free drink. Though it could use a bit more rum in it.