Shark of Spades

Fun and Games

The objective of Red Hand was fairly obvious, to a certain degree of competence. Both partners need to obtain a hand consisting of four red cards. Not that hard, at least, in theory. The difficulty comes in when each partner must match one card to each other, that card being a face card. In such, there are only 3 ways to win, dependent on the fact that you possess 3 A-10 cards and one face card; you may either hold the Jack of either hearts or diamonds, the Queen of said suits, or the King. The problem lies in the inability to communicate. If you call the hand and you fail to match the face card, you lose. Bets are made and called, and 
while the pot grows, your doubts trickle in. That is, if you're weak.

Neither 
Jack nor I am as such. Instead, we started signaling each other in 
seemingly invisible ways since the very start. Once we'd both relayed 
our obtaining of 3 A-10 cards, we waited until one of us had the face card. When I pulled up the Queen, I looked down at my cards, blinked 
twice, and slowly looked up at him. Sure, not super hard to read, but with sunglasses on? Only Jack could catch something like that.

And he did. He yawned, and I immediately caught his drift. He was going for 
double or nothing because the easy game play bored him.

Like I'd fail to accept such a challenge.

I simply blinked back at him, eyebrows raised slightly, speaking in tsunamis to him while still catching every  aftershock of the players around me, for the art of cards was a disaster in itself to those who weren't on my team.

Five minutes, Jack called 
the winning hand, and we both laid our down, for he'd somehow  instinctively known when my hand was set. Not only had we matched the 
red Queens, but we'd also completely matched every other card. I had been holding the 3, 7, and 10 of hearts while he'd held the 3, 7, and 10  of diamonds, completed with my Queen of hearts and his Queen of  diamonds.

Everybody else seemed slightly shocked or awed, while  O'Neilly just looked a bit cheery as usual. "Always manage to catch me by surprise," he muttered roughly, not without good spirit.

I nodded  at Jack. "Nice." I swept the winnings towards me, counting them quickly  and giving him his cut. Then I stood up, taking my money with me.  "Gentlemen," I said as I walked out the door, just catching the newbie's  words, "Who is that guy?"

"Only the best," Jack answered, and I felt a flash of pride. "A true professional."

That I was. After all, how hard is it to be good at having fun?