2. Money

2. Money

A Chapter by The Proletarian

Chapter 2. Bull takes his shot in the big game.


She's swimming now, deep undersea. 

"Bull, that you? Come here."

Her eyes are obsidian black, pupils dilated and unfocused; under a cloudy film, the black accepts no light. It's like staring out a window into space.

"Come here, baby, let me touch you."

She thinks shes reaching out. She rocks in place, melts into the bed. I can't stand it.

"Your move."

Oh, trust me, I'm getting there.

"Bull! Actions on you."


I'm at a game...


...And it's big. The whole casino's empty. A couple cameras, and big money on the table.

Too much money, I shouldn't be here. 


I look down, King-Nine suited. Not great, not bad. The dealer's staring at me.

"Anytime now, Bull."

That's my cue. My heart is racing.


I shove some chips forward. Not enough to scare the money, but enough to scare me. Across the table, Money thinks.

"You check raise me, huh? Maybe I'm trapped."

I'm stone cold nothing. Dealer's sweating bricks though, good thing Money doesn't notice.

"I'm all in." He's smiling. What an idiot.


All the chips are in the middle. We show our cards. He's got pocket Aces, I've got King-Nine suited.

"Jesus, pal! I'd a felt guilty, but you deserve it. Callin' all in with King-Nine."

He's not wrong. Any other game, any other hand, I'd deserve it. I try to look nervous. 

He shakes his head.

"Well, I'm feeling christian. What's say we run it a few times."

We could, but then I'd lose. I sigh, mull it over, count to two. 

Then, like a street samurai embracing death:

"No. Let's run it once."

He nods gravely, motions the dealer.

It's a bold move, and I've gotta sell it. Under normal circumstances, what I just did was crazy. King-Nine versus pocket Aces preflop: its financial suicide. When all's said and done, my odds are less than fifteen percent. 

For me to even have a chance, the flop would have to be something nuts like...

"Queen, Jack, Ten. Rainbow board."

Money isn't smiling anymore.

Sloppy, dealer, sloppy. You gotta space it out man, make him sweat. Too late now, whole thing's a bust.

"C'mon... King!"

Oh my God. He totally bought it.

"Gimme a king, dealer. A king, or a boat!"

Nothing's coming, that's the point.

Brick on the turn, brick on the river. King-Nine wins. Money can't look away .

I take a deep breath, start stacking my chips. There's enough here to buy a slave. 

"Rebuy, sir?"

Dealer's hands are shaking. He's way too young for this, what was Sol thinking.

But Money grabs his wallet. He doesn't care, that's how it goes: Money's money. He-

He's frowning. At the dealer.

"Just a minute, now. Something ain't right."

We're dead.

© 2021 The Proletarian

My Review

Would you like to review this Chapter?
Login | Register

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Added on June 27, 2020
Last Updated on February 20, 2021
Tags: cyberpunk, science fiction, mental illness