gutshots and goalposts

DJ Sensei · #1 07-09-2007, 07:58 AM

The sun sets on Metropolis suite 403. And by "the sun sets" I mean "the sun rises" because our story begins closer to that end of the night's hours. The intrepid warriors of the evening gather for a game of the "Chinese" poker. The pile of debris on the designated table is gazed upon, but ultimately ignored, and the game takes place on a simple plot of table, 2 foot square. Ten dollars american, or what the kids call "a Hamilton" is the stake per "point". In the one seat: young William Dead, or "wdead" as he answers to. In the two seat: "the Collector" aka DJ Sensei aka Daddy Fat Stacks aka the DZA. The three seat was filled by Francois, a visiting Frenchman with a thirst for wine and a hunger for victory. He yearned to bring fresh bread to his countrymen without all that much real work on his part. Taking his place later in the evening would be my main man Brandon, "The Closer" or "Bullpen Brandon". To his left was Talmandeth Jossemery, or "Tee Jay" or "TJ". Around on the other side were Vanessa "Lightning Crusher" Selbst, who took the nickname when she saved a school bus full of schoolkids from a lighting storm by holding up a giant antenna above their poorly-insulated metal-seat bus. She was struck a few times, but didn't flinch. In the 6 seat was Bakes, who tended to drop the term "bakes' dozen" whenever the number thirteen was mentioned, but nobody complained too much because 13 doesn't come up that often. Now, as it turns out, Chinese poker sucks. So they didn't play it that long. Also, our beloved Frenchman only had time for one hand, and lost 60 bones in it. Chinese poker is a brutal game.

So the game was changed. Acey-deucey was the style at the time, with a one dollar ante. The first pot was built to over $500 due to some ill-timed goalposting and unforeseen outliers. It was taken out without much effort by the DZA, who picked up a relatively safe A4 draw and spiked a Jack ball.

Pot-limit Acey-Deucey is played first by anteing one dollar. The first player to act is then presented with two new cards, and has to decide whether to bet on those cards or not. If they decide to bet, they choose an amount up to the size of the pot, and then a third card is dealt between them. If the third card is between them in value (Aces high) then they win the bet and the amount of that bet from the pot. If the third is an "outlier", outside the boundaries of the primary twosome, they pay that amount into the pot. If they match the rank of one of the two primary cards, they must double their bet and pay it into the pot. If they do not wish to risk a bet on such poor cards, they may pass a new deal of two to the next player, and so on until the pot was won, at which point everyone antes up and play resumes anew.

Now, after the initial shock of the first pot had worn off, the combatants realized that the game was not moving as quickly as desired. So some new stipulations were enacted into the law of the game. The first new law was a mandatory straddle, which meant that the first player after an ante took place was forced to bet the pot blind. Shortly thereafter, the deck ran out of cards again and the rule of "Dollar per Deck" was put into place; each player must ante another dollar when the deck was reshuffled because it ran out of cards. At that point, several players won their straddled pots, which led to groans from the other players hoping for a an epic pot to be built by their neighbors and scooped up by themselves. So, the "kill amendment" was suggested to double the antes when such an occurrence took place, so as to keep building the pots up quickly.

At this point the action began to heat up, but alas, it was not enough, for these gentlemen and lady had the fire of a city full of gamblers in their belly. So a mandatory minimum bet was enacted. Effectively, a one dollar ante if the cards weren't worth a bet when it came your way. Two dollars if it was a kill pot, naturally. The pots began to grow fast and furious, with the Sensei and the duck dragging most of the big ones, and Bakes and Brandon providing most of the fuel. Well, the irritation caused by a few commonplace situations such as paired primary cards and adjacent primary cards led to new considerations, and some groundbreaking new rules were emplaced: The "splits" rule, which took effect upon the cards being paired, and the "goalpost rule", which took effect when the cards were adjacent. The splits rule allowed that a player could bet the pot or any amount, and then would be dealt a new card to complete one of the originals. The player could then either bet on that card and draw to a middler, or choose to take the next one that was coming (to be combined with the latter original primary card, naturally). This second bet would be automatic if the first was turned down, but would be a freeroll if the first was bet upon and failed. The goalpost rule was a real crowd-favorite, leading to high-stakes risks and big swings. Should a player be dealt adjacent cards, they could wager up to $100 that the next card would pair one of them. If it failed to do so, their bet would be added to the pot, but if it achieved, every other player would be required to match that bet times 'n', a multiplier depending on the number of players, n being 2 when there were 5 or more players, and 3 if there were 4 players. Other multipliers were not conceived due to lack of necessity, but could be easily extrapolated.

At this point, the action grew hot. Sensei had been winning many pots due to his bold "blind betting" strategies, (Fortune favors the bold.) but when his gambles failed to pay off, or anyone was struck with a stretch of bad luck, the pot rapidly sprung upwards of $100 or more. He also discovered that if a player desired to make a coinflip, he needed to simply bet blind when an Ace was the first card up, because at that point he was offered the option to make the ace high or low. Obviously, if you bet blind then choosing either high or low is a coinflip, which generally means I lost it. One stretch of hands resulted in six consecutive one-card successes (drawing a 9 to a T8, for example) or goalpost hits, an overabundance of gutshots and goalposts, as it were. Well in any case, a pot was getting built up, and DJ lost a perhaps ill-advised straight bet for about $125. TeeJay next up in the lineup opted to bet the full amount on a T2, and spiked a ten. Ship $500 into the pot. After a few passes, it returned to the big-stacked Collector, who faced an Ace. He opted not to bet it blind, but to choose a side and see the situation he faced. Low was the call, and 4 was the companion card. The minimum was bet, and a 4 rolled off in the middle. If "high" was the call, the 4 would have been an invitation to bet the pot, and it would total over $2250 after his angrily generous contribution of a grand and a half. But as it stood, the pot remained $750 or so and was then scooped up by TJ on the next hand, when his Q3 draw came through cleanly. He was a grumpy gus though, because he couldn't let it go that he had missed a chance at 15 hundred more.

Well, the gamblers at the table had begun taking shots at the goalpost rule, which came up surprisingly often. And, because it was bound to happen sooner or later, $100 was the bet. I missed, TJ missed, and then duck fired out $100 on the 76 board, to which Bakes turned a 7 and the crowd went wild. Well, everybody who wasn't Sensei, Bakes, or TJ, because they had to pay her 300 bones for the occasion.

And thus the game broke, Bakes too deep in the hole to deal with any more huge beats, and the rest of us pretty tired and fairly blazed, and, well, also not wanting any more $300 beats from the luckbox queen. So, despite having been up over $600, I finished up $31, and TJ made $3. Vanessa scooped the bulk of the profits, something over a grand, and the rest of the crew footed the bill.