> Private games can be dicey. Make sure you walk in with both eyes open or you might just walk out a stack lighter, wondering where it all went wrong.

When Joey opened his eyes, he found himself right back in Angelo’s poker room.

‘Huh...didn’t I leave this place? Have those no good mobsters kidnapped me for my organs?’ Joey joked to himself but noticed things were weird. The light in the room was hazy.

He looked down. His hands and feet were huge and black. His torso had become narrow and long, emblazoned with the mark of the ace of spades. No, he had become the ace of spades!

‘What the hell is going on?!?’

A noise attracted his attention. He peered ahead and recognized many of the familiar faces of players and staff. They were in similar situations as him with various cards as their logos.

“The queen! The queen!” They screamed as they ran back and forth in sync, performing a dance while assembling some formation.

Joey considered all possibilities to make sense of the situation. ‘Do these degenerates have hobbies as cosplayers? Has kidnapping me to force me into LARPing been their goal all along?’

Then, Anwar emerged, dashing across them in a rabbit costume while playing the trumpet, like some kind of methhead jazz musician.

At the tip of their formation, their leader made a grand entrance. Draped in regal robes, it was Amy, the titular queen of hearts.

‘Of course....Of course it’s her! This must be all her doing!’

When things seemed they couldn’t get any worse, Joey felt a blast of wind strike his back.

He rotated in urgency to catch a streak of Pedro, adorned as the ace of clubs, shrieking. More important was that he’d become a human missile and was only inches away from smashing into Joey’s face! “WE MUST BECOME A PAIR!!!”

“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Joey woke up gasping in large agonizing breaths. His forehead was drenched in sweat.

‘Damn, even Alice in Wonderland! Not even my precious childhood memories are safe from those scoundrels!’

‘...Still, thank god it was a dream.’ He let out a sigh of relief and questioned his sleep schedule, his recent life’s choices, and whether someone had put a curse on him.

‘I’m going to buy a dreamcatcher next time I pass by the flea market...’ Joey was ready to do anything to reclaim a sense of security.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

************

Without work at Angelo's, he didn't have much to look forward to. School was never very challenging for him. So like a  rushing river, the day passed. Exiting the building, he was surprised to find Craig standing at the gate.

When Craig noticed him, his eyes briefly narrowed and he walked over. "Hey Joey, you've probably heard I run a poker game at my house on the weekends?"

"...Yea, so." 

"We're short a player and you should come by."

Joey didn't more than take a look at him to know it was a trap. He looked like a plotter. Craig looked like a man who had recently sat down and plotted.

He wasn't able to guess exactly what Craig had in store. Regardless, he had to admit it intrigued him. He wanted to see what a private game looked like. "What are the stakes?"

"2-5. Friday, 6pm, see you there." Craig left after delivering his invitation.

Joey rubbed his chin. 'What's the worst they can do? For 2-5, I'll just bring a small amount of money and take a look. Worst case scenario, I'll scream rape.' He always had a backup plan.

Now he had something to look forward to...

...

The week ended and it was the night of Craig's game. Joey knew he couldn't bring his entire bankroll so he passed home first and stashed all but 500 of it there. Having attended the same school with Craig since very young, he knew where he lived through past school events. 

Strolling through Craig's neighborhood, he admired the view. This was the nicer part of Queens. Tree-lined avenues, multi-car garages, and spacious gardens.

Many of the residents had already started putting out their Christmas decorations, as if engaging in cutthroat competition over holiday cheer.

Upon arrival, Joey had to crane his neck to capture the entire visage of Craig's multi-story house.

'It's nice to be rich. I bet their bathrooms have dual sinks and bidets.'

'Should I look for a way to get Craig into serious poker debt and have him bet his house to me?' Joey began to evaluate the perks of the banking industry.

'No...the property taxes and upkeep would make me tear my hair out.' Craig had barely avoided homelessness.

He rang the doorbell and there was Craig, with his yellow dome, looking like if Draco Malfoy quit magic to become a pilates instructor.

"You came, good!" Craig's eyes narrowed. He brought Joey downstairs to the basement.

'Down to the basement, that's 1 box checked for a possible murder.' Joey reached into his pocket to clutch his rape whistle.

Downstairs, he was surprised to see Craig actually had a professional quality poker table not any worse than those in Angelo's club. Nearby, there was a pool table and even a snack table with a wide assortment of food.

'If nothing else, Craig certainly has the makings of an entrepreneur, at least his business sense isn't any worse than that of those no good gangsters.' That's all it took for him to place Craig into the same mental category as Angelo, a future goon.

Joey glanced around. He recognized several of Craig's friends, in addition to several other faces from school, and some strangers as well. 

"Alright! Everyone's here, let's start." Craig initiated the game as everyone chose their seats and bought chips.

'The downside of plotting is that if it fails, the feedback damage can be excruciating. Let's see just what they have in store.' He looked forward to the challenge.