“Money won is twice as sweet as money earned” - Fast Eddy

It was a solid event. Many came from all over the country to take part and it was always the talk of the poker scene. Saturday nights, midnight. The movers and shakers that could hold their nerve at the table whilst successfully working their own system, or someone else's, made it down. The thrill of chasing that number one prize had seats filled. All poker players wanted what came with winning a tournament; reputation and money. Last night was another one of those nights.

Scarfo leant up against the cold bricks outside the building that held the tournament this week, hands stuffed firmly in his pockets. It was shortly after the tourney had come to an end, and he was waiting. Waiting in the early morning as the wind kicked the dust about, and in response up went the collar. A cigarette loosely hanging between his lips, unlit, and the wide brim of his fedora pulled down over his face for the most part to keep the swirling minuscule debris from his eyes.

Waiting, watching, as other participants from the final table and those that stuck around exited the makeshift venue. His eyes would glance up from time to time to catch those exiting. Respectful nods were had back and fourth, yet he was still waiting for someone in particular.

As the time passed his mind drifted back to the events that played out ten minuets or so earlier...

The adrenaline and excitement came back as if it were still happening and it turned the chill of the early twilight hours into a non issue. His body was heated, yet he had been that way the whole night and it all lead up to those final few hands.

Heads up play had begun as two players quickly ducked out in succession. One who had been complaining of stomach cramps all night that had him miss most of the game, besides a handful of well timed hands. They kept him in to take easy stacks of chips and his controversial play, or lack thereof, had him still manage to finish in third place; moments after another finishing fourth who seemed quite cosy with him doing so.

Scarfo felt the two may have been pulling a swindle, yet who could stop them. It was all by the rules of the table. Rules of respect for the game though, not in Scarfo's book. Yet, this was what Mafioso did. Earn a buck and bend the rules to their liking, respect had to be had for the effort and result, if anything.

Play between Scarfo and his final opponent went back and fourth for a few hands. Scarfo bet on the button to a fold in response, and vice versa. Textbook play when you both haven't got shit to really bet on yet want to steal the blinds to keep the stack  hopefully piling in your favour. And after a few of those, the time had come.

"All in."

Was the first call from Scarfo's opponent as he pushed all of his chips forward and his large yet slightly smaller stack did as was physically demanded.  He'd made a few of these heavy bets throughout the night, and had hit for the majority, bah one. One being a ballsy all-in move before the flop with pocket 3's.

Scarfo's mind ticked over as he glanced across the table, trying to suss out his next move. He had a pretty good pocket set. As he eyed the cards again to finally confirm his play, the off suited Jack and Ace told the story. Two high cards, there was no choice in the matter. They really made the call themselves.

"Call."

Both players flipped their respective hands over. Laying across the table from Scarfo, a pair of pocket 6's. An inner smile made itself known as the mouth joined in, and so did the emotions, as they anticipated the flop. The excitement and emotion climbed even higher when a Jack flopped onto the table. Money shot. Cards that followed were of no importance and they blurred out in the energy of the moment. All Scarfo's mind was on was seeing if one of the two 6's still available in the deck would make an appearance. The turn and river produced no such cards.

Scarfo shuffled his stance as his thoughts came grounding back into the present moment; it was the chill on his face. that first brought him back. A smile had made it's way from the flashback as the thought of having taken out the tournament, and the prize money, couldn't be shaken. Just as soon as his mind was swept away in the nights memory and no longer on waiting, a wooden door squeaked open and out came two men. One holding a briefcase. One was a famous face who was behind the running of the poker tournaments, and the other his assistant.

"Good game tonight." The man exclaimed as he popped up the collar on his overcoat.

"Cold as fuck out 'ere, sorry for making you wait. Had to make sure the coast was clear, you know, with all this cash. Don't want you losing it on your way home, or you might not return. Here..."

'The poker God', as Scarfo had come to know him, clicked his fingers and his assistant stepped forward and promptly handed Scarfo the briefcase.

"...that belongs to you. Don't spend it all at once. In fact, you may as well use it to kick off something of your own in South Philly. You've been on me about starting something up, so maybe use some of these winnings and show me you guys can handle it. You can always use the same potential base of players, just have to get the word out."

Scarfo casually took the briefcase as his mind wandered onto the potential of hosting a poker tournament in Philadelphia.

Coincidently, or maybe by the luck of the God's, maybe even the same luck that had him walk away with a cool seven million in cold hard cash, Scarfo had gained the support of TonyCapazzo and the approval of Don Latin of The South Philly Phoenix to open a gaming venue of his own. The place was a speakeasy and gambling den, and thinking about it further Scarfo felt it might just be the right place to let the country get a mid week semi competitive poker fix.

"You look a little out of it. Go get some rest, eh. I'll leave you to it. Good win tonight."

The man and his assistant began to make their way off when the poker God himself paused, turned back and shot a question at Scarfo.

"What exactly will you call this tournament, if you do get it going?"

Scarfo looked at the poker aficionado for a moment. He didn't expect to have an opportunity like this so soon after opening Red Velvet, so he replied with the first thing that made sense.

"Red Velvet... Red Velvet's Wednesday Night Poker."

The man looked down, mulling it over, then shot a glance back at Scarfo with a nod before turning and making his way to where he parked his vehicle this night; his assistant quick to follow. Scarfo took a quick look around before he began walking in the opposite direction, to where he parked his Ford Coupe. He pondered the coming week, and the work that would need to be done to get the word out. For now though, winning the tournament had him riding high.

As Scarfo reached his car and popped the door he paused for a moment. He tossed the briefcase into the car, onto the passenger seat. He stood outside the car looking back at the venue, cigarette still hanging from his mouth, unlit, yet he was more in his head than paying attention to the building itself.

"Red Velvet's Wednesday Night Poker. Yeah, why the fuck not."

Scarfo smirked as he took the cigarette and tossed it into the street, then slid into the car. He felt good and the still present smile on his face just couldn't he dampened. Not so much for the fact he was a fuck load of drug runs richer; more for the potential of a brighter future. For himself, Red Velvet and South Philly as a whole. Things were slowly coming together; The Phoenix was rising...

Awwww yeah! Luigi loved a good poker game and on hump day! Ah yeah it was time to lose stacks and get plastered while doing it. Poker was running in his veins ever since he was a young wee lad and his Dad lost their house and sold his mother and him into slavery to pay off his gambling debts. It was time for payback against this vicious game of skill and bluffing.......

Word started circulating regarding the new mid-week poker event. Red Velvet's Wednesday Night Poker. The mid-week poker and gambling fix.

With the reigning 'MR Weekly Official Poker Tournament' champion behind the helm, word spread a little quicker than usual. It was only 24-hours away, and even though it was the first sitting of the weekly event held at Red Velvet's underground gambling den there were already a few confirmed seats.

Maybe it had something to do with appreciation of a hump day poker event for criminals all over the world to focus on, other than beating the shit out of people to help them forget it was only mid week; or a kick start to remind them it was half-way to the bigger and much more reputable Saturday night poker event.

Either way, some had already confirmed their interest and it was only 24-hours till it kicked into high gear and the very first champion would be named. Who it would be, only time would tell. Red Velvet's Wednesday Night Poker. Mid-week poker and gambling just got better!

TwistedFate had been tired of the constant dice rolling versus that pesky 'House.'

"Magic!! Cheater!!" House would constantly exclaim, after TwistedFate recently diced his way to extreme riches.

He needed something new to satisfy his taste in 'gambling' which was never really a gamble for TwistedFate. That's when he saw it....

"Red Velvet's Wednesday Night Poker"

"Well Fuck me! Isn't that, that prick 'Scarfo' who eyeballed past me in the streets the other week?"

"Hahaha! And what's this!? He's hosting the Red Velvet Poker Night..?

"I told him I'd -Find your pockets- and now he's practically giving them to me!!"

TwistedFate roars with laughter as he exits the streets to farewell his friend 'House' and welcome the Wednesday Night Pokers.

Luigi had missed every single Poker Tournament to date! There were many reasons for this. For starters he wasn't one to wake up at ungodly hours to wait for hours to see if the casino room would open up. Another night he had become sidetracked in creating a costume party and dressing like a gangster Panda which ended up badly. After that some Irish blokes decided to use their potato guns in the wrong neighborhood and blood that his sister's had to clean had been spilled.

This week Luigi had marked the date on his calendar and was sure he wouldn't miss this poker tourney. Come Hell or High water he would be there even in a wheelchair or missing an arm.

He would finally clean them all out even if his favorite poker adversary Aliens was unfortunately no longer around to provide a challenge......