Greek Freak's First Annual Poker Game - $1,000,000 grand prize!

That mouthful of words was plastered everywhere in the underground in an attempt to bring in as many people as possible to the poker tournament he had been working so hard to make a reality. There was something about a large room of men and women all smoking large cigars and betting entire blue-collar salaries while sitting together in a circle that was so distinctly mafia, and that's what the man was trying to pull off.

"How many people did you invite?" the man he only knew as Tony Three-Fingers asked him this question in quite the scared tone, already knowing the answer was not going to be a good one.

"Well, it was an open invitation. Anyone could come."

"You sent an open invitation for a one million dollar tournament to everyone in the entire United States mob?" the speed of Tony's voice sped up significantly when he asked his second question in a clear sign of worry, unable to hide it at all anymore. There was a few seconds of dead silence while the Greek ran it through in his head before he understood why there was such an inquisition going on right now-- this probably had a pretty high chance of going poorly, now that he thought about it.

"I can't take the invites back anymore. I sent them out days ago... we should probably-"

"Hire more security? Yeah, I'm on it."

An hour later and a small militia of seven men showed up at the small venue. Thinking about it again, he came to a second realization that maybe inviting over six hundred people to a building that can house twenty before committing a fire hazard wasn't the smartest idea that he had ever cooked up. Speaking of cooking up, the meal for the poker game consisted of pheasant and quail eggs cooked up by a world renowned Chef that owed the Greek a favor, which, again, when thought about, didn't make much sense for a poker game.

Maybe don't show up to this poker game... please?

The second message that he sent out to those in the mafia was a lot more pathetic than the first, and due to the slow dissemation system of the early 1900s would most likely not arrive to most of them in time. For now, the Greek would need to hope that his new security team and the fact that he had backing from a crew now that he was a Made Man would all be enough to keep everyone in line.

"So when does this thing start, anyway?" another one of his good friends, Tony Seven-Fingers, asked him while locking up the money for the poker game into a safe in the back, his superior finger count putting him in charge of things where Three-Fingers would surely struggle. 

Shrugging, the large man in charge just smiled and quickly replied, "Whenever people show up, I guess."

There was a collective sigh from everyone in the building as he spoke, but stoicly ignoring everything negative, all that he could think about was how much fun having a poker game would be. Taking a seat at one of the tables and waiting for more people to show up, the Greek was ready to show off his skills to everyone.

...or lose one million dollars.

Dear Freak of Greek origins,

For the LAST GOD DAMN TIME please do not send me anymore junk mail. I am not interested in your poker tournaments, exciting new business opportunities, or male enhancement supplements. If you contact me again I will be forced to take action. Eventually. Depends on the weather really. Oh and my back. So I don't have to take action and unleash my fury upon you I think it best you lose my address. Which to think on it, I do not know how you acquired it. In summary, leave me alone.

-Uncle

Satisfied with his letter Uncle grabbed an envelope and stuffed his message in it before sealing it shut and handing it to a lackey. That'll show him thought Uncle as he grinned. That'll be the last I ever hear from that boy.

The Letter

While twirling some poker chips he had bought in bulk for this occasion; the Freak was alerted that some sort of letter had arrived in the mail, and so hoping that it was naturally from one of the potential contenders saying they would be a little late and to keep their seat warm, he rushed to open it with great haste. That's when his heart dropped into his stomach, metaphorically speaking, and he realized that it was just Uncle sending another love letter to him.

"I won't even open this one, he has sent me so many of these now and I just don't know how else to let him know I'm uninterested." ripping it in half and throwing it into the raging fireplace that was also symbolic of the love that Uncle had for him, the note was turned into nothing more than ashes in only a few seconds, which was very symbolic of how the Greek did not care.

The Poker

After taking care of the pathetic letter, the Freak sat back down at his table and looked at all of the empty seats. There was very little in the way of action going on so far, and the five dealers that he had personally hired to make sure things were legitimate the entire way through were being paid by the hour yet still seemed as if they were also somehow bored by the monotonous action of sitting in a large banquet hall with nothing to do but stare.

"Any of you know how to play Poker?" it was a stupid question to ask men that had worked in the card dealing business, but it was also the only thing that he could think of with such short notice. "Hey, you, what's your name?" he pointed to one of the militia, a younger looking man who couldn't have been any older than twenty-four, and nodded.

"Me? I'm Zachary." unsure of what was about to be asked of him, the kid was a bit apprehensive in answer the question, because at this point, if the chocolate fountains on every table weren't an indication that anything could happen here, then nothing was.

"So, Zach. You ever play poker? If no one shows up it might be you and me battling it out for the million." 

There was an awkward silence where the Freak thought uproarious laughter was more appropriate and so the silence got only deeper as he racked his brain in an attempt to think of something better to say. Buying as much time as possible in between pauses, he stared longingly at the front door in hopes that someone would step through them any second now.

Please, anyone. Come. Things are getting really weird in here.

Slade, Still in a stupor from all the moonshine that he drank at Brutus party, stumbles across the location of the poker game. Peaking his head in, he sees that there is absolutely nobody there but a tall freak of a man and some pathetic looking militia. He decides to holler out to them.

Hey! Is there any moonshine here? I do not care much for poker, but if you got moonshine, I will drink with you at this pathetic showing you have, and maybe, just maybe it will make you feel a little better

He waits about 10 seconds before deciding there is absolutely no moonshine, and continues his stumble down the road on his way back towards HQ.

NO LOITERING

PLEASE COME TO MY POKER GAME I WILL GIVE YOU $20,000 JUST FOR SHOWING UP PLEASE GOD FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I SPENT SO MUCH ON THESE CHEESE FONDUE FOUNTAINS THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS PLEASE.

Poker 

Putting up these new posters right outside of the business to stop people like Slade from coming in and making a mockery of what would be known as the most renowned poker game this side of the Mississippi, he lurched back into his chair and began playing with one of the five-hundred decks of cards that he bought for this competition-- perhaps shooting a bit too close to the sun in his assessment of how many people would be interested in such an event.

"4 of clubs, what a boring card. Hey, what do you guys think the next one will be?"

Playing a guessing game with a heavily armed militia, well-payed dealers, and extremely bored on-the-clock chefs wasn't exactly what he had hoped would be happening right now, but for the most part, it was a lot more fun than he had anticipated. Breaking out some of the vintage wine that was going to be handed out to the guests as they entered, the men all started to drink and play card games while waiting for someone to arrive.

Abbie was bored, she hated being bored. It normally led to waking up someplace strange with a banging head, or broken stuff; sometimes both. Walking through Valhalla headquarters, looking for something to do, she seen a flyer poking out from under a coffee table. ‘Great! Someone leaving a mess around, I’ll bloody well find them and string them up!’ She was sure she could find the litterbug, some questions, a little digging with something sharp. It would keep her occupied for an hour, maybe. Bending over she picked up the flyer and reads it.

Greek Freak's First Annual Poker Game - $1,000,000 grand prize!

Turning it over in her hand she read it again. She had seen id before, lots of times, plastered everywhere you looked. It had annoyed her at the time, more mess. GreekFreak. Abbie remembered that name, the odd man she had shown around the new casino. ‘He’s called himself GreekFreak, hadn’t he?’ It had to be the same person. Intrigued Abbiw walked back to her office and checked her wardrobe. She always kept a few changes of clothes, just in case, you never knew when you might need something clean to put on. Slipping out of her dress and into a tailored suit she grabbed an overcoat and cap from the coat rack by the door. Jumping into a car she headed off to the address hastily scribbled in small letters on the back of the flyer.

A while later…

The venue looked tiny, smaller than she expected anyway. Closing her eyes she smiled, the place may look small but the food smelled delicious, she hoped it actually was nice. Taking a swig of whiskey from her flask she stashed it inside her overcoat and stepped into the venue. Empty. The place was empty; well, except for the croupier’s and what she assumed was hired muscle, even if they were sitting at the tables having a game. Maybe she walked into the wrong poker game? Walking back out quickly she checked the address and noticed the NO LOITERING sign. Raising her eyebrows she chuckled to herself as she looked around the half empty street, people scurrying on past but no one hanging around. Stepping back inside she removed her hat and coat, looking for somewhere to hang them as she scanned the room hoping to recognise the prolific gambler she knew should be here.

Finally, someone had shown up to the big poker event and didn't seem to be scurrying off straight away in an attempt to give the poor man a sad case of the proverbial blue balls. It did not take long for him to jump out of his seat, an ace of spades dropping from his head that he was holding there for one of the party games the event had devolved into; greeted the woman who had just walked through the doors and into the wild world of underground mafia poker matches. There was a lot that he had wanted to say and it all exploded out of his mouth in an amalgamated sentence, "Welcome poker have party seat take!" 

The mouthful of mish-mash was confusing at first, but when he pointed towards a seat next to his and ushered for the men to stand up and walk back to their stations, he decided that now was the perfect time to at least begin the first layer of what would be multiple tournaments and events that would span weeks with much fan-fare, the finale being a one-million-dollar prize to whoever could outlast the muscle-bound hunk who had once spent over eighty hours awake when he could swear his grandmother had arisen from the dead but turned out to just be a leak in the faucet.

"Sorry about that, I got a bit tongue-tied. There hasn't been a single person to show up yet that stuck around for an actual hand of poker, so here's this large wad of money as thanks." he walked to the safe and turned it a few times before re-emerging with twenty grand in bills that were dropped onto the table in front of the woman.

The dealer sitting opposite from both of them began passing out the cards and immediately the Freak stared down at his and shook his head in a very negative tone, he had a four of clubs and seven of spades with a whole lot of nothing in between, all of which weren't good enough for anything, but not wanting to fold so early instead he threw them all to the floor in a tantrum and stood up, pacing back and forth for a moment before letting out a barrage of insults directed at the dealer.

"I invite you into my building and give you all of this cash to deal for me and you give me THIS?! THIS BULLSHIT?! Do you hate me, man? If you hate me, just let me fucking know..." this went on for a lot longer than it should have and ended with him on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness from both AbbieTual who needed to witness such an outburst and the dealers themselves who he had called quite a few negative names in his rantings.

"I think we all had a lot to drink tonight." the Greek said while pleading for everyone to forget what just happened before anyone else enters the poker venue. "You had one glass of wine, respectfully, sir, maybe you are just tired?" his eyes darted towards the man who was speaking and they promptly stopped.

"We just need to restart, with new cards. Can we do that? Can we just restart?" the dealer shrugged and gave him an entirely new hand. This one was worse than the last, but he couldn't throw the same level of complaining as before... or could he? No, he would keep his cool and play through the pain.

"So, Abbie, how are you enjoying yourself so far? Good hand, huh?"

Childish! Exasperated? Maybe just stressed? She wasn’t sure what had got into GreekFreak when he saw his hand. Could he really have that bad of a poker face? That would work just perfect for her, Abbie thought to herself. Of course, she wasn’t going to complain about the man throwing himself around on the floor, for one it entertained her slightly but it was also his poker venue. She wondered how much he had put into getting everything ready, looking around again it did look nice. What would be even better would be a drink in her hand too, she stared longingly at the drinks table nearby.

“A lot to drink, huh? I don’t know I think I could do with at least one more.”

Glancing at her cards she tried her best to think of the most boring, bland thing. Her poker face wasn’t too bad but apparently, her brow would furrow minutely when she was concerned. Or rise a millimetre when she was amused. Though she wasn’t too sure could trust the person who told her that. Five of diamonds and 6 of clubs. Boring. Bland. TEA! Wait that’s not boring, she loved tea. Just a little splash of milk. One of her bodyguards had splashed too much milk this morning and made a mess on the countertop. Spilt milk! Ugh! Now she remembered she’d thrown a mini tantrum, threw a dishcloth. She really needed her tea in the morning. Childish! And that was that she couldn’t contain herself and started to giggle. Taking a deep breath she composed herself.

“I’m having a good night so far Freak, but the hand you’ll have to wait and see.”

The fact that there were still only two people competing in what was meant to be a multi-faceted tournament, complete with dancers and even a fully trained tiger show during one of the fourteen planned intermissions, was bothering the Greek Freak a bit more than he was willing to admit and the initial fear that there weren't enough chairs to accommodate the droves of mobsters was turning into the exact opposite. Most of them were being used as extra tables, with guns and knives replacing that of the asses of competitors he was hoping to have at this point.

"I've noticed that you're staring at the drink tray quite a bit; so would you care for one? I've got two bartenders on staff here somewhere, but they might be sleeping off their hangovers." he stood up, taking his cards with him and poured himself and the only other poker player here a drink, making sure it was the top-shelf stuff before walking back over towards their table.

He took a few sips of what he had poured and then allowed for the poker game to re-commence, after what had been the fourth or fifth stop before the flop even showed up on the table. However, something still didn't sit right with the Freak, and so just as the dealer was about to pull over the first card, he waved his hands and shook his head in a dramatic fashion.

"Stop, stop. This isn't a tournament with just two people, now is it?" there was a very dismissive look on his face, and when he walked outside for a few minutes, he rearrived with a large smile on his face, fully believing that his newest plan would fix every single problem that had cropped up all with one swell swoop.

Everyone Is Welcome

$250,000 to the next person that literally walks through the door I do not give a fuck who you are just open up the god damn door and play a hand of poker and I will personally give you two hundred thousand dollars...

Placing the newest sign above the other signs, the deed was done, and the first annual poker game looked like it was going to take off any minute now when someone noticed the big prize. Sure, they would probably not be the most well-kempt person in the world, but they would at least show up and that was more then he could say for most people.

Drinking the rest of his alcoholic beverage and not wanting Abbie to feel left out by the new rules, he whistled to a few of his men who quickly rushed out of the room and then back in with a large case. Inside of it, there was enough money to purchase an entire plot of land, or roughly forty thousand cows-- he would know due to his brief foray into the cattle business.

"This is for you, as a thanks for your attempt to play with me. It is greatly appreciated."

Abbie gracefully accepted the drink, noticing he took his cards with him. Of course, she probably would have done the same but she had some integrity and would never cheat at a friends card table. The drink was just what she needed, warming her up and helping her relax. Looking around the room she was slightly disappointed that no one else had called in yet, all this beautiful food and drink, and the winnings. Abbie had no plans of letting any of it go to waste, she was sure could manage 2 or 3 bottles even if it did mean she’d lose half a day or so. What else was a good friend supposed to do?

Just as she was thinking of drinking half the bar herself, and all the money she could win, Freak got up and walked out. ‘Well, what’s got into him now?!’ The security and other employees didn’t seem too concerned so Abbie got up walked over to the drinks, downed her glass and poured herself another one before she sat back down. ‘Even if he notices who else is going to help him drink it?’

Taking the opportunity to run to the rest rooms she took a peak at what Freak was hanging up outside, she could just barely make out the fact there were numbers on it. Upping the winnings? Offering cash for something else? The notices wouldn't help if there wasn't anyone walking down the street outside though. She considered suggesting he put on a show at the door and attract some attention that way. 'He could dance and swing that notice of his around!' Abbie burst out laughing just imagining what Freak would look like dancing frantically outside while shouting for people to join his poker game. Maybe not! 

When Freak sat back down she tried her best to hide her amusement from him, if he asked she'd have to make something up. Accepting the case offered to her she set it under her seat.

“Thank you, but don’t be dipping too much into the winnings to sweeten me into staying, I’ll be taking it all home anyway.”

"So you really think you can beat me? I've been doing this for years now, Abbie, and no offense, but I've never lost a single competition which is why I admittedly pulled all the stops to make this thing happen, for the prestige, you see?" the dealer continued the game and showed a few of the cards, none of which were things that the Freak needed, but he was too busy in the middle of an impressive monologue to notice, and so he continued to check and continue with the game.

"I won two minor tournaments back in New York, and then I went to California and won one of the bigger ones in Los Angeles which at the time was a very big deal and helped propel me into the upper echelons of poker players." he raised, again ignoring the fact that the turn did him no favors and in fact lowered his odds to win. "Not to mention the fact that I, oh? Yes. I raise, whatever. Not to mention the fact that I am also the first person to win the grand prize in Vegas' annual Poker Champions, which I wouldn't hold against you if you've never heard about it."

Then came the final card, the river, and much like an actual river, the Greek's tears would flow downstream when he realized that in a daze of showing off he had accidentally gone all-in and lost on the very first hand. The final card being a Jack and giving Abbie what was known in the business as a straight, and while he tried to find the positives in most things, going all-in with his only hand being a high card that was an 8 of spades seems to be something that will sour anyone for a while.

"Well, fuck. Do-Over?"

There was a look of sincerity in his eyes while he pleaded with the woman who had just taken home the grand prize in a little under five minutes of actually playing poker. While he figured that the answer would be a no, his hope was that some sort of heart-string would be tugged if he sat there and begged for long enough.

Poker Competition - Probably Cancelled

In a heat of the moment rage, he rushed outside and placed that notice above all of the other notices; his defiance in the face of losing was either very pathetic or very powerful, and he didn't have the sense of understanding human emotions well enough to know what it would actually be classified under.

Calling for his men to take the rest of the winnings from out of the safe in the back, he slowly walked it over towards Abbie, but not before asking one last time, "Are you sure I couldn't talk you into a rematch? Winner takes all? Double or nothing?" he pointed towards the drink cart in an attempt to show her what she could have if she stuck around for a while longer and hoped that would be enough to entice her.