Swarles peered over the playing cards clutched in his right hand, trying to get a read on his opponent. In his left hand was a small pile of poker chips. He pondered what to do in this situation while flipping a singular chip to the bottom of the stack. It was a trick he learned from Papa Sid, who was always a loving grandparent. 

Statistics kept popping into his head while trying to drown out the background chatter of the table. However, it was becoming increasingly difficult due to the nature of the discussion.

"You've only heard his point of view. You never asked mine," said @MikeTyson.

He finally snapped out of his trance and looked around at the rest of the group. Setting the cards face down on the table, he tried to catch up to the debate. 

Iron Mike grimaced as he looks at his cards. 2 of hearts, 7 of clubs. Mike had been dealt some thit handth in life (The Lispth being one of them) but this hand was the worst. 

"You've only heard his point of view you never asked mine" said Iron Mike to Imperium.

He drums his sausage like fingers on the table, which was a clear tell to the rest of the gang that Iron Mike was holding a hand full of nothing. Mike's life had been on a slide towards oblivion since the fateful day he found the mysterious suitcase full of cash in the 12th Street Public Bathroom. It was almost as if the money was cursed. 

"Thuck it" says Iron Mike as he lays down his cards in disgust.

"I'm too old to start again & I'll be thucked if I let a little bad luck get my down" says Iron Mike to no one in particular. He had faith he would rise from the setbacks & once again become the most electrifying man in sports entertainment."

Imperium, a penniless writer on theological understandings, smiled at the seemingly frustrated Swarles. "Are you folding?" He could tell this whole conversation about faith and doubt was growing tiresome on Swarles. Perhaps it was due to his lack of care, or he cared too much. But the debate was about to get good, and Imperium could feel it. 

"This isn't just about you. It's about what's best for all of us. My point of view is simple, if you don't have doubts about faith every once in a while, you are likely not human. The idea of doubt is perfectly normal. It's normal to have these doubts about your church and if you want to keep going. What is not normal is to not explore those doubts and question your faith." Imperium paused momentarily, then raised a finger, "Let me ask you this @Swarles, what holds you back from wanting to attend in the first place?”

Benny pulls the rubber string with his mouth whilst it's tied to his left arm.

"Come on!" – He grunts. – "I need this!"

As the transparent liquid starts flowing through Benny's vein and the rubber string loosens up, a tourbillion of sensations flows through his body. The lights he could see at that moment were always described as extraordinary, full of hope, and carried a unique, more profound sensation he couldn't explain.

Benny was raised in a foster house. His childhood was marked by his surrogate parents as Benny became their "undesired" kid just as he turned ten.

Alone on the streets, Benny managed to taste the worst. He had been abused, cut and scarred, enslaved to work in charcoal factories. He felt hunger, cold, and weakness. Still, nonetheless, he prevailed through all the unstoppable suffering.

It was just one of these days that he came to cross his path with a new substance on the streets. Apparently, it had the "miraculous" capacity of taking away all of the sufferings from one's body. Between darkness and one last hope of sunshine, Benny took his chances.

Benny kept his hope, evidently. Someone as tainted as him, a drug addict, could only rely on their own hope. Faithful as one day, he could experience something good for the first time in his life. Even stray dogs, such as Benny, could have their day.

And for the first time, he achieved it.

The new drug, although giving him a glimpse of happiness and a far way sensation of rest and joy, bombarding his body with faith that for a couple of minutes all the problems were away and that he could feel the beauty of life, was also making the wheel of life to turn faster with every new use. Benny knew it. Everyone around him knew it, even if just passing shadows in a smoggy alley.

Sadly, for Benny, his faith for brief moments of happiness would be the cause of his death, but it was damn worth it. For someone shaped and forged by hatred, a mere second of peace meant more than thousands of lifetimes.

And that sensation he always had while doing it, almost like a voice…

"If you leave now, you lose everything…"

"Have you read the newspaper stories about my wife?" He put the newspaper on the table, and there on the front page was a photograph of her holding the world's most enormous turnip while seated on a pile of turnips. "Look at her there basking in the glory of her record-breaking turnip. I swear she was so happy the day we dug that fucker out of the ground she drank almost an entire bottle of rum in celebration. I mean, look at the size of it, it's bigger than most house cats, and she treats it like it's her child. As if it has sentience. It's getting out of hand, honestly. Yesterday she drew a smiley face on it, tied a bow around the top, and gave it a name. Susan."

Indiana loved his wife dearly, including all her little quirks, but sometimes he wished he didn't have a turnip child.

"This morning, I caught her whispering to Susan about her planned day and how much she loves her. It's not even like she is trying to hide it, either. It's just my wife and her turnip child against the world. I think she loves it more than she loves me."

He was going to continue the fantastic tale of what a nutter his wife was when he realized that the game was unfolding around him. Within its framework, the players had become somewhat philosophical in nature and self-destructive, in the case of Jhonny-Sketches. Was he shooting up in the middle of the game? He was. He probably couldn't even tell the difference between a carrot or turnip at this point. Indiana rubbed his tired eyes with the ball of his right hand while holding his cards in another. His eyes darted from one participant to another, trying to glean even the tiniest morsel of information from their eyes or facial expressions. 

MikeTyson's face was set in a permanent frown; he always looked as though he wanted to kill you and now was no different. He was like a coiled snake, ready to spring into action anytime. Rumour had it that in one fierce bar fight, he had bitten a chunk of a man's ear clean off before beating him to within an inch of his life. Generally, no one fucked with Mike until he spoke, and that almost lady-like voice came out. No one would dare to laugh at him either, but sometimes, some foolish or uninformed soon-to-be-dead chump dared and lost. 

"Faith." He returned to the subject and placed the cards on the table facing down. The discussion had yet to really get going. Indiana felt responsible for that in part as he blathered on about his eccentric wife and turnip child. "In our line of work, who can afford to be without faith?" He kept his eyes down in contemplation. "I mean, you have to admit we live and thrive by our own rules, unlike the sheep of society, but we survive to be old and fat by the grace of God alone, right? If I put my mind to it, I can be as skilled as any with a gun, but none of us are bulletproof." He briefly glanced at Mike and wondered if even bullets would hurt him but then quickly averted his gaze before Mike felt threatened. Because basically, apart from the fact he was a lethal weapon. It was rumored he also had not one but three pet tigers named Boris, Storm, and Kenya, and he kept them hungry and vicious. "Apart from you MikeTyson. Maybe you are bulletproof."

He peeked at his cards again and placed them back down. They were dog shit as usual. 

"What do you think, fellas? Any of you got any time for the almighty?" Though the question was broadly for everyone, Indiana focused on Swarles, who would hopefully fold instead of going all-in. "Personally, my mother, may she rest in peace.." he made the sign of the cross, "..made sure I was a god-fearing man. Prayers every night. Church every Sunday. Yada yada. You know what I'm saying. And I can't lie; it's served me well so far. Does he interfere? I doubt that, but I believe... I have faith."

He loosened his tie. He hated talking about this shit, but the conversation was here, and it wasn't going away.

"Fuck it. You know what I mean."

Picking back up his cards, Swarles smiled at the group of nutters gathered around the table. It was painfully evident that @MikeTyson would be folding his hand away. @Jhonny-Sketches was apparently going comatose and couldn't be bothered to even stay sober through the flop. @Indiana-Jones' tale about his wife was outlandish but apparently not enough to hold the cards through an equally convincing bluff. That just left, @Imperium waiting for Swarles to make a choice. And isn't that what faith vs. doubt is all about?

"Oh, my dear friend, Imperium, you must have forgotten who you are dealing with. I would never fold a hand like this. Not heads up against you of all people. But first, allow me to clarify my own beliefs." 

Turning to Indiana, "I love the big bro in the sky. He always seems to be watching out for me. Whether I am chasing women at the bar, the gym, the beach, the casino... you get the point. Maybe it's not precisely what scripture preaches, but if something or someone is helping me achieve my dreams, why wouldn't I make time for that?"

Swarles takes another peek at his cards before shoving all his chips into the middle. 

"The only time I consider doubt is when I want to make the other party question my faith. Doubt literally means to oppose, separate, or withdraw from. It doesn't mean having a moment of questioning or wondering. It doesn't refer to waking up the following day and not feeling confident. It means the exact opposite of faith." 

A smirk comes across his face as the decision lies with Imperium.

"So tell me, old friend, will you be withdrawing from this hand? Or do you have absolute faith that you have me beat? If you leave now, you lose everything."

Imperium stared off in the distance. The feint frustration in Indianas voice allowed him to chime in. 

"I have this belief, that God does exist. I just struggle to believe he cares. I hear it all the time, that he cares and loves us. But if that is true why is there so much suffering in the world is what I always wondered? I once asked a priest this question, whom later died due to not paying his gambling debts, and he shared with me the reality that there is no answer."

Imperium chuckled as he folded his hand.

"How can you not know the answer to a question like that? How can you not know why people experience such pain and strife on a regular basis? This is something that truly troubles me. We are just supposed to go along with it and pretend that...."

At that very moment, a sound of a pile of bricks sounded from the room over. Imperium quickly looked over and then looked back at the table. 

"Wait, is that Jhonny? Is he okay?"

Without seconds to lose the guys ran in the room over to check on Jhonny…