| Humor Fiction posted July 14, 2023 |
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what would you do if death came to visit?
Death in the Bronx
by Loretta Bigg
I kid you not. Death came to see me last night. She was ready to collect.
Long, black flowing sheath on top of a body-tard and clown-white smeared all over her face and hands like she'd been in a big hurry to get to me.
"I'm Death," she said in this Bronx honk. "Sorry, I'm late. Traffic was terrible."
"Death is from the Bronx?"
"You wanna make a fuss about it? I'm Death, your life is in my hands. So go ahead, be a big baby. Your doctor should have warned you years ago to skip the hot dogs and the scotch."
"I'm a vegan."
"That's what they all say." Suddenly, she pulled out a new deck of cards, still in its wrapper. " But how about this..." an echo followed behind, this, this, this. "Do you want to play for it?"
"Play for what?"
"See if you can beat me? You lose, you die, you win, you live. I understand you're quite the card-sharp in Poker."
"You got me mixed up with the neighbor. I play Duplicate Bridge."
"They gave me the wrong address again? That's the second time this week. And I had to find a clown show for the little demon's awakening day and a new sitter for the baby succubus. It's been a hell of a day."
"I thought every day would be a hell... never mind. But isn't Death supposed to play chess?"
"Only in Sweden. And no philosophical talk while we play poker. That's just in Sweden too."
"But why me?"
"Why not you? You're supposed to die next year. A barfight over the ace of spades."
"I'm telling you, you've got the wrong guy. The doc gave me a clean bill of health just last week."
"Quit with the excuses. I got three more appointments after you." And then this big booming voice rose from her gaping mouth, and her face loomed up, flames rising up from every orifice. "Human, today is your day to die, die, dieeeeee."
I fell to the floor, scared nearly to death. "Quit with the echo chamber side-effects. Oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack."
"I'm not your oh my god," she bellowed. "And a heart attack is nothing compared to what awaits you, human!"
After a while her act got old even for her, and she toned it down. "So which is it? Instant death or one measly hand of Poker?"
"What kind of instant death are we talking about here?"
From behind nowhere, she pulled out a menu. "We have two specials this week: Being dragged under a car for miles, or your head exploding."
Poker was suddenly a very viable solution. "Okay, okay. But only blackjack poker. I don't know how to play anything else."
Instantly a card table materialized in the middle of the room. A ghostly hand floated over: the dealer, I guessed. He shuffled deftly, one-handedly. Nice trick. Then he "handed" us our cards.
What bad luck, I had a jack and a five of diamonds. Death cackled, not much of a poker face there, and held her hand tight against her breasts. I said, "Hit me," and the Hand slapped my face. "I mean give me a card, dealer, sheesh."
I got a two.
"Hit me again."
Another two.
"Hit me again."
Another Two! Five Card Charlie!
"Something's not right," Death mumbled ominously. "Hand? Frisk him."
The Hand obliged, felt me all over but couldn't find a thing. The Hand spelled out in sign language, "He's clean, boss."
Death rose again to full height, fiery nostrils choking the room with putrid smoke. "Two out of three, three, threeeeeee!" she moaned.
"Okay, it's your funeral," I said. Or would it be mine?
But Whoa, I got Five Card Charlie again! "Just think about the odds there," I said. "They must be out of this world. So I win."
"Three out of..."
"No way, I got you fair and square." Death screamed bloody murder, but what else could she do? Did I mention the contract signed in blood? So she melted into a little pink puddle, along with the Hand and the card table in a final puff of sulfurous smoke.
Okay. I admit I had a lot of twos hidden in places even a body-less hand couldn't go. The truth is I've never played bridge in my life but I was telling the truth about only playing blackjack poker.
No card sharp here. But my name is Sandy Hellquar, twice world champion sleight of hand magician. And my job saved my life that night I cheated Death. At cards.
The Poker Game contest entry
I kid you not. Death came to see me last night. She was ready to collect.
Long, black flowing sheath on top of a body-tard and clown-white smeared all over her face and hands like she'd been in a big hurry to get to me.
"I'm Death," she said in this Bronx honk. "Sorry, I'm late. Traffic was terrible."
"Death is from the Bronx?"
"You wanna make a fuss about it? I'm Death, your life is in my hands. So go ahead, be a big baby. Your doctor should have warned you years ago to skip the hot dogs and the scotch."
"I'm a vegan."
"That's what they all say." Suddenly, she pulled out a new deck of cards, still in its wrapper. " But how about this..." an echo followed behind, this, this, this. "Do you want to play for it?"
"Play for what?"
"See if you can beat me? You lose, you die, you win, you live. I understand you're quite the card-sharp in Poker."
"You got me mixed up with the neighbor. I play Duplicate Bridge."
"They gave me the wrong address again? That's the second time this week. And I had to find a clown show for the little demon's awakening day and a new sitter for the baby succubus. It's been a hell of a day."
"I thought every day would be a hell... never mind. But isn't Death supposed to play chess?"
"Only in Sweden. And no philosophical talk while we play poker. That's just in Sweden too."
"But why me?"
"Why not you? You're supposed to die next year. A barfight over the ace of spades."
"I'm telling you, you've got the wrong guy. The doc gave me a clean bill of health just last week."
"Quit with the excuses. I got three more appointments after you." And then this big booming voice rose from her gaping mouth, and her face loomed up, flames rising up from every orifice. "Human, today is your day to die, die, dieeeeee."
I fell to the floor, scared nearly to death. "Quit with the echo chamber side-effects. Oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack."
"I'm not your oh my god," she bellowed. "And a heart attack is nothing compared to what awaits you, human!"
After a while her act got old even for her, and she toned it down. "So which is it? Instant death or one measly hand of Poker?"
"What kind of instant death are we talking about here?"
From behind nowhere, she pulled out a menu. "We have two specials this week: Being dragged under a car for miles, or your head exploding."
Poker was suddenly a very viable solution. "Okay, okay. But only blackjack poker. I don't know how to play anything else."
Instantly a card table materialized in the middle of the room. A ghostly hand floated over: the dealer, I guessed. He shuffled deftly, one-handedly. Nice trick. Then he "handed" us our cards.
What bad luck, I had a jack and a five of diamonds. Death cackled, not much of a poker face there, and held her hand tight against her breasts. I said, "Hit me," and the Hand slapped my face. "I mean give me a card, dealer, sheesh."
I got a two.
"Hit me again."
Another two.
"Hit me again."
Another Two! Five Card Charlie!
"Something's not right," Death mumbled ominously. "Hand? Frisk him."
The Hand obliged, felt me all over but couldn't find a thing. The Hand spelled out in sign language, "He's clean, boss."
Death rose again to full height, fiery nostrils choking the room with putrid smoke. "Two out of three, three, threeeeeee!" she moaned.
"Okay, it's your funeral," I said. Or would it be mine?
Long, black flowing sheath on top of a body-tard and clown-white smeared all over her face and hands like she'd been in a big hurry to get to me.
"I'm Death," she said in this Bronx honk. "Sorry, I'm late. Traffic was terrible."
"Death is from the Bronx?"
"You wanna make a fuss about it? I'm Death, your life is in my hands. So go ahead, be a big baby. Your doctor should have warned you years ago to skip the hot dogs and the scotch."
"I'm a vegan."
"That's what they all say." Suddenly, she pulled out a new deck of cards, still in its wrapper. " But how about this..." an echo followed behind, this, this, this. "Do you want to play for it?"
"Play for what?"
"See if you can beat me? You lose, you die, you win, you live. I understand you're quite the card-sharp in Poker."
"You got me mixed up with the neighbor. I play Duplicate Bridge."
"They gave me the wrong address again? That's the second time this week. And I had to find a clown show for the little demon's awakening day and a new sitter for the baby succubus. It's been a hell of a day."
"I thought every day would be a hell... never mind. But isn't Death supposed to play chess?"
"Only in Sweden. And no philosophical talk while we play poker. That's just in Sweden too."
"But why me?"
"Why not you? You're supposed to die next year. A barfight over the ace of spades."
"I'm telling you, you've got the wrong guy. The doc gave me a clean bill of health just last week."
"Quit with the excuses. I got three more appointments after you." And then this big booming voice rose from her gaping mouth, and her face loomed up, flames rising up from every orifice. "Human, today is your day to die, die, dieeeeee."
I fell to the floor, scared nearly to death. "Quit with the echo chamber side-effects. Oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack."
"I'm not your oh my god," she bellowed. "And a heart attack is nothing compared to what awaits you, human!"
After a while her act got old even for her, and she toned it down. "So which is it? Instant death or one measly hand of Poker?"
"What kind of instant death are we talking about here?"
From behind nowhere, she pulled out a menu. "We have two specials this week: Being dragged under a car for miles, or your head exploding."
Poker was suddenly a very viable solution. "Okay, okay. But only blackjack poker. I don't know how to play anything else."
Instantly a card table materialized in the middle of the room. A ghostly hand floated over: the dealer, I guessed. He shuffled deftly, one-handedly. Nice trick. Then he "handed" us our cards.
What bad luck, I had a jack and a five of diamonds. Death cackled, not much of a poker face there, and held her hand tight against her breasts. I said, "Hit me," and the Hand slapped my face. "I mean give me a card, dealer, sheesh."
I got a two.
"Hit me again."
Another two.
"Hit me again."
Another Two! Five Card Charlie!
"Something's not right," Death mumbled ominously. "Hand? Frisk him."
The Hand obliged, felt me all over but couldn't find a thing. The Hand spelled out in sign language, "He's clean, boss."
Death rose again to full height, fiery nostrils choking the room with putrid smoke. "Two out of three, three, threeeeeee!" she moaned.
"Okay, it's your funeral," I said. Or would it be mine?
But Whoa, I got Five Card Charlie again! "Just think about the odds there," I said. "They must be out of this world. So I win."
"Three out of..."
"No way, I got you fair and square." Death screamed bloody murder, but what else could she do? Did I mention the contract signed in blood? So she melted into a little pink puddle, along with the Hand and the card table in a final puff of sulfurous smoke.
Okay. I admit I had a lot of twos hidden in places even a body-less hand couldn't go. The truth is I've never played bridge in my life but I was telling the truth about only playing blackjack poker.
No card sharp here. But my name is Sandy Hellquar, twice world champion sleight of hand magician. And my job saved my life that night I cheated Death. At cards.
"Three out of..."
"No way, I got you fair and square." Death screamed bloody murder, but what else could she do? Did I mention the contract signed in blood? So she melted into a little pink puddle, along with the Hand and the card table in a final puff of sulfurous smoke.
Okay. I admit I had a lot of twos hidden in places even a body-less hand couldn't go. The truth is I've never played bridge in my life but I was telling the truth about only playing blackjack poker.
No card sharp here. But my name is Sandy Hellquar, twice world champion sleight of hand magician. And my job saved my life that night I cheated Death. At cards.
 Recognized |
Note: for those of you who are unsure, blackjack is a form of poker. its real name IS blackjack poker. You can check this post from a real casino: The Gardens Casino:
Blackjack Poker is played with a standard 52 card deck. The object of the game is for the player and the player-dealer to add the numerical value of their cards to achieve as high a ranking hand, according to the chart below, as possible.
https://www.thegardenscasino.com/games/blackjack-poker
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Blackjack Poker is played with a standard 52 card deck. The object of the game is for the player and the player-dealer to add the numerical value of their cards to achieve as high a ranking hand, according to the chart below, as possible.
https://www.thegardenscasino.com/games/blackjack-poker
Artwork by cleo85 at FanArtReview.com
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© Copyright 2024. Loretta Bigg All rights reserved.
Loretta Bigg has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
