In the corner of Sal's Saloon bar, Dead-Eye Dora and Fast Fran were the last pair still playing poker at the "regular's table".
While Dora studied her hand, Fran waved across the only man present, Justin the barman.
"Hey Justin," she said, grabbing his groin and squeezing it, "got my room booked for tonight?"
"Sure, Fran," Justin said. "You know Sal's motto: Serve you now, service you later."
"Attaboy," Fran said, slapping his rear to send him away.
Fran and Dora drew two cards each. Dora adjusted her eye-patch and pushed a pile of notes into the pot. "I'll see you."
Fran matched her, and nodded.
Dora spread her hand on the table.
"Full house – three fourteens and two nineteens."
"Too bad," Fran said. "Four seventeens." She reached out for the pot.
Dora stood up. "Not so fast. A deck of cards doesn't contain seventeens."
Slowly, Fran stood up, too. Menace.
"Are – you – calling – me – a – cheat?"
Suddenly, the lights went out, followed by flashes and gunfire. When someone found the light switch again, Dora lay dead under the table. Fran casually blew smoke from the barrel of her Colt 45 and returned it to its holster.
Justin called across, "Another drink, anyone? Last orders!"
It was the cue for Dora to leap up from the floor. "Two glasses of white wine, Justin. Fran – this one's on me. Pinot grigio?"
"Sure, Dora. One day you need to learn to take your poker more seriously, though."
While Dora studied her hand, Fran waved across the only man present, Justin the barman.
"Hey Justin," she said, grabbing his groin and squeezing it, "got my room booked for tonight?"
"Sure, Fran," Justin said. "You know Sal's motto: Serve you now, service you later."
"Attaboy," Fran said, slapping his rear to send him away.
Fran and Dora drew two cards each. Dora adjusted her eye-patch and pushed a pile of notes into the pot. "I'll see you."
Fran matched her, and nodded.
Dora spread her hand on the table.
"Full house – three fourteens and two nineteens."
"Too bad," Fran said. "Four seventeens." She reached out for the pot.
Dora stood up. "Not so fast. A deck of cards doesn't contain seventeens."
Slowly, Fran stood up, too. Menace.
"Are – you – calling – me – a – cheat?"
Suddenly, the lights went out, followed by flashes and gunfire. When someone found the light switch again, Dora lay dead under the table. Fran casually blew smoke from the barrel of her Colt 45 and returned it to its holster.
Justin called across, "Another drink, anyone? Last orders!"
It was the cue for Dora to leap up from the floor. "Two glasses of white wine, Justin. Fran – this one's on me. Pinot grigio?"
"Sure, Dora. One day you need to learn to take your poker more seriously, though."
