Malik isn’t even exaggerating about the “blasted out” part. “Kindergarten is like NYC compared to where we just blasted out of.” “You guys are such suckers! It’s like you just graduated kindergarten yesterday.” “Not good enough,” Randy cackles, revealing his own hand: three sixes. With a plastic knife, I saw off a piece of my own burger and place it in the Styrofoam takeout container that’s serving as the pot. “And if I’m in a good mood, I might even consider sharing it with you. When the game’s over it can be food again.” “If we eat it now, we’ve got nothing to bet with. “It’s not food, it’s our stakes,” Randy insists. “You’re supposed to say I fold,” Randy corrects. The third player, Malik Bruder, tosses his cards on the carpet. He’s from Serenity, too, but he’s been here in the real world for a couple of months already, so he knows a lot more than I do about things like poker. Trust me, that’s far from the weirdest thing about the place. I’m from Serenity, New Mexico, where nobody plays poker because it’s gambling. Then again, I only learned the rules of poker twenty minutes ago. I’ve got a pair of kings and a pair of eights. “I see your taco and raise you half a cheeseburger.”
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