Ch 4: Underworld Poker

Black. Everything was black. The air, the sky, the ground. All of it. Grim smiled to himself as he sat at his spot around the large table. There were people watching him and his every move, looking, listening, learning from him. Above Grim, a sign equally black as the surroundings hung, letter splashed in blood red writing on it, reading "Annual Grim and Evil Poker Tournament".

Grim was never good at human games, but he was slowly learning. In fact, he had scored a few big wins over time, no thanks to the human girl Mandy who liked to make his afterlife a living hell. Poker was a good escape from her, yet at the same time a great reminder of the hardships he would yet have to face under the lash of the human girl and her stupid friend. Grim shuddered and was thankful he had some downtime to spare. He dealt the cards with his bony hands to the players who sat around the large circular table. Grim was feeling lucky today.

The small coin-like chips were stacked neatly in the centre of the table. The five other players glanced at each other suspiciously, not knowing what their opponents had in mind. Grim glanced at his left, where Cranston Utonium, formerly Doctor X, sat, looking rather nervous. He could tell that the human had not spent much time at card games. Then again, glancing around the table, Grim noticed that most of his foes would probably have never played it before either. "Okay, does everyone know, roughly, how to play?" asked Grim to the assembled guests.

Jafar nodded, twirling his long thin beard with cunning. Frieza gave a smirk, his white and purple head shiny as though newly polished. Queen Beryl's eyes narrowed, her long red hair cascading down her back as her sharp fingers held the cards to her, keeping them private. Cranston nodded, too, sweat forming on his brow. Was it his first time at Poker? Agent Smith cracked his neck slightly, eager to get going. Count Montray hissed, eyeing Cranston with suspicion. He had been killed by the same person as Cranston had: the little girl who they both used to love.

A few people had tagged along to watch the game unfold. It only ever happened once a year, and livened the otherwise boring underworld up a bit. The spirits of those who had been killed gathered in this one place to watch the game of wit, cunning and skill. They would discuss amongst themselves who they thought would win. They would make bets on their favourite player, and at times they just watched for the hell of it. A couple of men with long beards stood near the table, discussing possible strategies.

"Derka derka. Mohammad jihad!"

"Ah! Derka derka derka!"

Grim brought his cards up to his face, "Okay, let's make this a good one." he told them.

Poker is a game of variables. It can be fast, ("I fold..." Queen Beryl growled) or slow ("Raise ya ten!" "Raise you fifty!" "Oh, dear..."). And in the underworld, where time does not exist, poker could last for ages. It was all a matter of whoever managed to get the best hand. Slowly, gradually, the weaker ones were fished out, leaving only those who were confident in themselves and the tiny pieces of paper in their hands. Grim wondered why the humans loved the game so much before he tried it himself. It was a game of risk, a game strategy. All with cards! Who'd have thought? Grim was more used to the games the ghouls played in the underrealms, where the prey had to outwit their larger, hungrier foes. Those who succeeded survived. Those who didn't were lunch. A simple and enjoyable game, so long as you were a spectator. The humans didn't have any games where they ate each other, which was good seeing as it reduced Grim's working hours.

Frieza growled, "Most powerful being in the universe and I can't even win a card game!" he placed his cards face down, folding.

Jafar chuckled, "Now, my good man, I see your fifteen and raise you thirty!"

Agent Smith raised an eyebrow, "You will not win. It is inevitable. Do you hear that sound? It is the sound of inevitability..."

"Try me..."

Grim glanced at Cranston, who rolled his eyes. Agent Smith slowly glanced at his cards, then at Jafar, then back at his cards. A rather disappointed expression came over his face as he growled and lay down his cards, "This isn't over Mister... uh..."

Jafar raised an eyebrow.

Montray grumbled, and threw his cards down. He was out, too.

Cranston glanced at his cards, "Jafar, I don't think you HAVE the Straight Royal Flush Full House Faggamajigger you say you have!"

Jafar locked his dark gaze with the Professor, "Why do you say that?" he asked, nervously.

Cranston didn't reply, instead giving a rather snide look in Jafar's direction. Jafar fumed, before shouting, "FINE!" he threw down his cards, "Dammit, that bluff never works..."

Grim chuckled, "Just you and me, mon."

Cranston grinned, "Let's see if you can match me. My species DID create this game after all."

Grim grumbled, "Trust me, every human achievement ever conceived has been shoved down my throat by an annoying little eight year old..."

Cranston shrugged, "Kids like letting us older people know things. It's their way."

"You had kids?" Grim asked, still perusing his cards.

Cranston's face fell, "I have tw- no... only one. Only one little girl."

Grim sighed. The Professor loved his little girl. He wondered why he didn't end up with someone a bit more likeable, himself. Fate was cruel. But the game of poker wasn't, thankfully. He lined two of his cards, both of which had large Ks on them, next to two cards with the letter J upon them. Two pair, if he remembered correctly. He waited for Utonium to finish with his set of cards. Victory was sweet, and for Grim it didn't come often, always overshadowed by that pesky human child outwitting him. Perhaps today he would prove his superiority to the humans. Today he would have-

PING

Grim slammed his hands on the table, "NO!" he shouted at the top of his voice as Cranston vanished in a flash of light. Had someone reclaimed his spirit? It was not possible without Grim's consent. Maybe... maybe he had been... no! Impossible! Humans cannot resurrect the dead. What had happened then? Cranston's cards fell onto the table silently as his body was jerked away by the light, a look of shock on the man's face. Grim's teeth grit together as the other people around the table gawked.

"Interesting... most interesting..." Smith mumbled.

With no way of reaching him, Grim knew the game was over. He sighed, dropping his cards on the table. Then curiosity got the better of him. Grim had faith in his cards, so he snuck a peek at Cranston's cards, hoping for the best. He turned all five cards over. Ace, Two, Three, Four, Five. A Straight, cleanly beating Grim's hand. Grim roared and threw the cards over his shoulder, before resting large chin in his hand, moping. His prior observation was correct. Fate was so, SO cruel...