Joker. I win. - Part 1
What do you get when you turn a card upside down? You have the same card, only maybe a slightly different version, of course. Why; because they were specifically made that way. If it’s a hearts, spades, or even a clubs, the suit is then flipped, making it wrong way up. But diamonds or kingdom cards, they are exactly the same. The joker card is different with every set. One could have four jokers, making two right side up and two wrong side up at the same time, no matter which way they are held. Another could have the name ‘joker’ both right and wrong like the aforementioned version, but one joker figure in the middle, and it becomes like the suit cards when you turn it. But no matter which card you hold, and which way is up, it’s still the same card.
One card. Two card. Three card. War.
It’s a dangerous game we play, war. A double smile hides behind the red paint across his face, feeling the fear radiate off of the other player across from him with every sense. Smell the sweat, taste the tension, feel the vibration of tapping fingers, hear the ragged breath, see the lines creasing on his aged face, making him look a lot older than he was courtesy of times just like this. He knew that he was about to loose, his pile running thin, and no high cards were left in his wake. His eyes darted back and forth between the ever moving cards and the smile of his enemy.
‘One from him, one from me. Thank you very much kind sir, we appreciate the donation. ‘
As if he read his thoughts, another set was moved across the table to his side, the pile growing larger and larger by the second. There was no escape from his demise, and the nameless man knew it. He had sweat rolling down his creased forehead, and he felt as if the temperature was rising with every passing moment he was under that emerald gaze. ‘Don’t look at him, it’ll just make it worse…’
Flip,flip, slide to the side. Eyes dart quick and read it fast, for this game will never last.
Gone. All of the cards were suddenly gone from his pile, and before he could reach for the middle stack, he looked up at his opponent. Bad idea. Eyes widened at the same time that yellowed teeth were bared. It was over, and it had only just begun. He looked at the middle pile, and there was his fate, written all over the table suddenly, and not just that one little card.
‘Joker. I win.’ BAM.
The once brave henchclown fell to the concrete floor with a thud, the others quickly dragging him away from the small table and out of sight. It was quiet for a few moments, the only sound was the gun clattering to the floor next to the victor’s seat. He looked around at the others still in the room, still grinning his double grin.
“Who’s up for another round?”
--
Cards were all fun and games, but after awhile, even the Joker got bored of his beloved cards. Even the feel of the laminated paper on his fingertips grew bothersome after so long, game after game. It was one of the only times he would take off his gloves unless they were forced off of his hands or if it was needed for the situation. He loved the feel of the cards in his fingers, some weak and flimsy, while some were stiff and strong. But even that wonderful feeling was tiring after hours of sorting, playing, and killing.
He grew tired of his ‘loyal followers’, who’s numbers were dwindling quickly with all of the card games today anyway. He needed to just do something today, but what could he do? The other men had silently escaped the cold room when there was no other sound from their boss save for the flipping and sorting of cards again. He laid them out in front of him on the table and scrutinized them carefully, lining them all up in rows. He turned them this way and that, and soon he found his thoughts drifting to his beloved bat.
‘Ah yes, now there’s a Bat Man…’
One reoccurring thought in his mind lately had been, ‘how?’ What made the bat become the bat? When he couldn’t think up an answer, he just compared it to himself. ‘One bad day…’ And the Joker got an idea, his grin coming back and his yellowed teeth showing again. He took the joker card, this one clutching at it’s chest, and he turned it upside down, only two ‘jokers’ right side up then.
“Ah, so that’s it then?” he smacked his lips thoughtfully, crossing his arms as he continued to peer down at the card. “Maybe I should, uh, send a little invite to Batsy. Just for some ca-tching up!”
One card. Two card. Three card. War.
It’s a dangerous game we play, war. A double smile hides behind the red paint across his face, feeling the fear radiate off of the other player across from him with every sense. Smell the sweat, taste the tension, feel the vibration of tapping fingers, hear the ragged breath, see the lines creasing on his aged face, making him look a lot older than he was courtesy of times just like this. He knew that he was about to loose, his pile running thin, and no high cards were left in his wake. His eyes darted back and forth between the ever moving cards and the smile of his enemy.
‘One from him, one from me. Thank you very much kind sir, we appreciate the donation. ‘
As if he read his thoughts, another set was moved across the table to his side, the pile growing larger and larger by the second. There was no escape from his demise, and the nameless man knew it. He had sweat rolling down his creased forehead, and he felt as if the temperature was rising with every passing moment he was under that emerald gaze. ‘Don’t look at him, it’ll just make it worse…’
Flip,flip, slide to the side. Eyes dart quick and read it fast, for this game will never last.
Gone. All of the cards were suddenly gone from his pile, and before he could reach for the middle stack, he looked up at his opponent. Bad idea. Eyes widened at the same time that yellowed teeth were bared. It was over, and it had only just begun. He looked at the middle pile, and there was his fate, written all over the table suddenly, and not just that one little card.
‘Joker. I win.’ BAM.
The once brave henchclown fell to the concrete floor with a thud, the others quickly dragging him away from the small table and out of sight. It was quiet for a few moments, the only sound was the gun clattering to the floor next to the victor’s seat. He looked around at the others still in the room, still grinning his double grin.
“Who’s up for another round?”
--
Cards were all fun and games, but after awhile, even the Joker got bored of his beloved cards. Even the feel of the laminated paper on his fingertips grew bothersome after so long, game after game. It was one of the only times he would take off his gloves unless they were forced off of his hands or if it was needed for the situation. He loved the feel of the cards in his fingers, some weak and flimsy, while some were stiff and strong. But even that wonderful feeling was tiring after hours of sorting, playing, and killing.
He grew tired of his ‘loyal followers’, who’s numbers were dwindling quickly with all of the card games today anyway. He needed to just do something today, but what could he do? The other men had silently escaped the cold room when there was no other sound from their boss save for the flipping and sorting of cards again. He laid them out in front of him on the table and scrutinized them carefully, lining them all up in rows. He turned them this way and that, and soon he found his thoughts drifting to his beloved bat.
‘Ah yes, now there’s a Bat Man…’
One reoccurring thought in his mind lately had been, ‘how?’ What made the bat become the bat? When he couldn’t think up an answer, he just compared it to himself. ‘One bad day…’ And the Joker got an idea, his grin coming back and his yellowed teeth showing again. He took the joker card, this one clutching at it’s chest, and he turned it upside down, only two ‘jokers’ right side up then.
“Ah, so that’s it then?” he smacked his lips thoughtfully, crossing his arms as he continued to peer down at the card. “Maybe I should, uh, send a little invite to Batsy. Just for some ca-tching up!”