Chapter Text
A man in a... whimsical suit and a very obvious earpiece walks into your casino.
Now, you know what type of establishment you run, and it certainly attracts its fair share of cranks, suits, and people with earpieces; but all three? Not to mention the top hat- you're surprised he doesn't have a cane too!
You keep your eyes on him as he walks towards the table you're currently dealing at.
"Lovely day as always," he comments.
"Blackjack, sir?" You cut straight to the point.
"Of course."
He takes a seat among the others, all of whom have game faces and normal clothing. He greets them jovially, and in return they shoot him weird looks.
Everyone bets, with the strange man taking the maximum bet, a slightly maniacal look on his face as he does it.
You shuffle the deck, and begin to deal. The gaudy man's face relaxes back into the pleasant grin he had when he came in.
14, 18, 12, 11, and your first card is a K.
14 slouches a little, but hits anyway. Another 5, 19.
18 grimaces, before hitting. Q, knocked out of the water.
12 is the strange man, and he hits. 7, up to 19. He leans very conspicuously into his earpiece, rolling up his sleeves.
"Hit- you sure? I'll get a 2?" Hit? Are these people out to fucking get him? "Alright. Uh, yes, dealer? I'd like a 2, thank you." You hit the madman-
2.
Up to 21.
19 looks furious, and you don't blame her.
11 sheepishly asks to hit.
Your cartoony friend tracks the card with his eyes, a look on his face that almost looks like... contemplation? More like one of someone trying to remember something.
The card finally lands.
9.
In most other games, she would have it in the bag right now.
You flip over your last card- 5. No chance.
He stands up, extending a hand to all his opponents. "Good game!"
None of them take it.
"That's gotta be the best we've ever done this one," he continues, presumably to his earpiece again, as he pockets his black chips. "Like, Jesus, that was down to the wire!"
He nonchalantly beelines to the door, babbling away.
Has he really played the same game multiple times?
Part of you wishes you could be there, too. The rest knows you already were.
"Bastard," one of the the players mutters.
You're inclined to agree.