Texas Hold 'Em | Gotham Style

Fiction by Mia.

Robin was on a high. He had just won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em against one of the best players in Vegas and he knew that wearing his boy wonder mask to hide his tells was the key to this success. Leaning back in his chair while the dealer reshuffled the cards, Robin felt smug. Big Daddy Doyle had just walked by his table and tipped his cowboy hat to him which Robin took as a sign of respect. Robin was confident more than ever that he would win the next round and advance to the finals of the World Poker Championships. He allowed himself a moment to think back to how Bruce had tried to counsel him right out of the tournament…

***

Robin’s gambling wasn’t always lucrative. When he first started playing poker, he wore street clothes and entered tournaments under a pseudonym. Robin quickly learned that he had too many tells and that was the main reason why he could never get past round one. Successful professional poker players are brilliant sociologists in disguise and they knew when Robin was bluffing even before he did.

Robin made other rookie mistakes in his haste to win a hand. Too many all-ins that were subsequently all lost put him in debt for twenty seven thousand dollars in one night. Robin felt sick to his stomach about the financial hits. As a superhero sidekick, he didn’t make enough money to be playing like a big shot. Consequently, he was forced to approach Bruce several times for paycheck advances. It didn’t take long for Bruce to figure out what Robin was doing and he tried his best to help him break the addiction.

Robin would sit through Bruce’s lectures and willingly take the gambling obsession hotline numbers from him, but Robin knew Texas Hold ‘Em was his other calling in life. He assured Bruce that his job as a crime fighter would always come first and since Diana was always willing to lend him her invisible jet, it only took him an hour to get out of Vegas and back to Gotham.

In turn, Bruce would listen intently to Robin’s arguments while hoping that Robin would pull himself together and stay out of Vegas for awhile. He also reminded Robin that Gotham was quiet right now but normally didn’t remain that way for long…

***

Snapping out of his reverie at the World Poker Tournament, Robin found himself sitting across from an oddly-dressed man who was experiencing beginner’s luck. Robin sized up the guy behind the mirrored sunglasses while waiving away the cocktail waitress who had come around. The crowd eventually settled in to the side chairs and the dealer wished both players luck and began to cut, shuffle and deal.

Robin found himself holding a nine of hearts and a king of clubs. He was going to have to count on the flop for something worthwhile. Robin made a decent first bet and his opponent showed no emotion while matching it. The dealer started turning over cards…a nine of clubs, a nine of diamonds and a king of hearts….SWEET! Robin made the next bet and his opponent matched and then raised him. Was it possible that the guy was holding kings? On the turn, the dealer laid down an ace of clubs. Robin casually went all in and so did his opponent. The dealer put the card down for the river which was an ace of spades. It didn’t matter to Robin as he had a full house, a full-on bet and a great feeling. He flipped over all his cards and the crowd cheered. The opponent took a quick look at Robin’s hand and without saying a word, flipped over his cards one by one on the table. An ace of hearts. An ace of diamonds. And the rest of the cards didn't matter.

A collective gasp from the crowd was followed by a tremendous roar of disbelief. No player in the history of the World Poker Championships had ever pulled a four-of-a-kind, especially in aces. Robin was instantly broke and out of the competition. He stood up and banged his fists against the padded rim of the poker table.

“Oh hell no!” yelled Robin. “The surveillance video needs to be checked by security, this is ridiculous!”

The man didn’t say a word but a sinister grin slowly spread across his face. He was not bothered by Robin’s outburst and kept scooping up the poker chips. He knew that security would verify that he didn’t pull any tricks and that his win was legitimate. And when the win was indeed confirmed, Robin couldn’t breathe. The familiar feeling of nausea swirled in his stomach and he stumbled out of the tournament room. At the hat check counter he gave the lovely young girl the claim tickets for his cape and for the keys to the invisible jet. She happily wished him to have a lucky night and he cursed under his breath.

His head hung low, he started to head slowly to the casino door while his thoughts were racing. How was he going to ask Bruce again for more money? He knew the Dark Knight would not continue to succumb to Robin’s needs for instant cash. Robin knew he was screwed and he couldn't breathe as he felt squeezed by an enormous pressure on his chest. Almost out the door, he heard his name. Turning around, he realized that the creepy man who just beat him was calling him. Still in shock, Robin stood still and let the man approach him.

“Here, this is for you,” said the man playfully while handing Robin a ten thousand dollar casino chip and a playing card folded in half.

Robin didn’t want to accept the chip but didn’t see how he had any choice. He had to return to Gotham with money and a story of a big win so Bruce wouldn’t start in on his lectures again.

“You played a risky game and if you ever want to come work for me, let me know because I like your…style,” the man said with a guttural chuckle.

Robin watched the man retreat back in to the casino and then involuntarily shuddered. He started to put the chip in his pocket and glanced at the souvenir playing card. Robin gasped and looked back at the casino. The card was a Joker.

END.

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