[NUTZ IN YA MOUTH]

After playing outside my bankroll, and going “busto” (and I use the term loosely, I wasn’t “busto”, but I really didn’t want to go back to the seizure-inducing $1/2 NL games), I sat at a bar in the Bellagio, sipping on SoCo Manhattans and contemplating my poker future with a longtime friend.

“I don’t know. Maybe this is a sign that I just don’t have what it takes to make it,” I said gloomily, the alcohol pumping through my veins.
“Man, it’s been your dream to play professionally, you can’t just give up over a setback like this!” he reassured me, but still, I felt like a man at the end of his ropes.

I looked up to see Kathy Liebert laughing with a group of people, nursing a Bloody Mary.

“Just look at that,” I told my friend. “Money is no object to her. A great, underrated player without a care in the world.”
“Yeah. All that money and no one to share it with, I bet. It’s a shame.”

Suddenly, the lightbulb went on in my head. I told my friend I had some business to attend to and sauntered over to the aforementioned party.

“Miss Liebert?” I said kindly. “Hi. I noticed you from across the bar. I just wanted to say that I think you’re a great, underappreciated player, and I just wanted to shake your hand.
“Oh, that’s very nice!” she said genuinely, extending her hand.
“And.. it looks like you could use another refreshment,” I said, smiling coyly. “May I?”

I extended my arm and Kathy took it. Bidding farewell to her crew, we meandered to the bar, ordered a few drinks, and sat back down. I don’t like to brag, but I’m a pretty damn good looking guy, and the combination of that, some Appletinis, and running some tight game, I had this Poker Princess eating out of the palm of my hand.

“Don’t you think we should take this party… elsewhere?” I asked her.
“Oh, yes. Yes I do. I own a suite upstairs. We should go right now.”

When we got up to her suite, I noticed she had a safe up there, where she said she kept her bankroll. I asked if she’d open it and show me what’s inside. Assloads of cash. I was stunned. Leaving the safe open, Kathy got on all fours and crawled onto the bed.

“What turns you on?” I asked matter-of-factly.
“Bad beat stories.”
“Excuse me?”
“Tell me your raunchiest, dirtiest, filthiest bad beat story,” she said, biting her index finger.

“Okay, I pick up two red aces on the button. Pot was raised, I repopped it and got heads up.”
“Oh God, I love hearing stories about aces cracked!” she said excitedly.
“Flop comes A67, rainbow.”
“Oh God, you flopped the nuts? Tell me you led out. Oh God, tell me you led out!”
“I led out. In fact, I got check raised.”

I stopped momentarily.

“You know what, perhaps you should slip into something a bit more comfortable before this story reaches its… climax.”
“I’ve got just the thing.”

She raced into the bathroom and shut the door. Instantly, I rushed over to the safe and started frantically shoving cash into my bag. After I’d filled up, I turned and headed for the door.

“Looks like you’re taking the bad beat today,” I said quietly, smirking.

As I was about to leave, Kathy emerged from the bathroom in a bikini covered with hearts, spades, clubs, and diamonds.

“Hey! Where are you going? Is that my cash in your bag?” she squawked.

Without saying a word, I turned and ran into the hallway. She followed suit briefly, then probably decided it wasn’t in her best interests to chase a madman through a hotel in a Poker Bikini

“I’m calling security on your ass!” she screamed.

Not risking taking the elevator, I ran down the stairs and out an emergency exit. I flagged down a cab driving by, threw $500 in the front seat and told him “Venetian! Step on it!”

I casually strolled to a cage at the Venetian, where I took a large chunk out of my bag, artillary for me to play some high stakes NL with this bounty that had fallen into my lap.

“Looks like someone got lucky tonight,” the cute girl behind the cage said with a smile.
“I guess you could say that,” I said with a smirk.

She turned to get the chips and I stopped her momentarily. “Oh, and sweetie,” I said sternly, taking the toothpick out of my mouth, “I’m gonna need a rack for those chips.”