Splice Away! part three: Poker
Just a note, when I said that this story will be "completely clean" I meant "no yiff" but that doesn't mean there wont be some sexual references. Just a warning.
...
That first time Ryan sat down at the poker table years ago, he picked up pretty fast that all of his colleagues were pretty bad at it. First of all, they all had incredibly obvious signs. When Renderton had a good hand, his tail would wag uncontrollably, When Joe had a bad hand he would growl, real soft and quiet, but it was easy for Ryan's keen ears to pick up. And then there was his boss, the manager of the clinic, and the only one of them who was human, he was a tall, African-American guy in his late thirties, Jonathan Redwall, but he asked all of his employees to call him John. But anyway, John had a chronic problem with sweating when he was blushing. All of these factors made it almost too easy for Ryan to steal his coworker's paychecks.
The game was going good, there was two-hundred-and-fifty dollars on the table and it was the last hand. Ryan could still fold, but the odds were in his favor; John was blushing, and Joe was growling. The only problem was Renderton, who's tail was moving like a Geiger counter behind his chair. Ryan took another look at his hand and gave himself a mental nod.
Joe folded, and the rest of them laid there hands down on the table. The best John could muster was a couple of threes, Renderton, on the other hand, had three tens and two aces. He yelped with joy, and reached for the money, but when he was half way there, he noticed Ryan's hand, a flush. Ryan rocked back in his chair, with his hands behind his head, and waited for it.
"GOD DAMN IT!" Renderton thundered.
Joe and John broke out laughing, Ryan chuckled to him self, but didn't partake in the mocking of Renderton's rage. He had just taken the man's spending money, he didn't need to humiliate him anymore.
"Now, what nice restaurant were you planning on taking that lady friend of yours to?" Ryan couldn't help himself.
"Hey!" Renderton pointed a menacing finger at Ryan "At least I get laid!" This was Renderton's comeback for everything, being in his twenties, he got considerably more action than the rest of them. "Unlike you, Mister thirty-year-old-virgin!"
"Goddamn Renderton, how many different way's to I half to spell it out for you; I. Am. Not. A virgin!"
"The one time in college does not count!" Renderton said as he sat back in his chair.
Ryan gave him a bemused look. "What the fuck do mean the one time in college doesn't count?"
"The one time in college is a given, there isn't a single soul on the planet that didn't have 'that one time in college.' I am talking about pussy that you actually earned."
Ryan rolled his eyes, he wasn't about to get into argument about who got laid more often, he would lose. But he didn't mind, Ryan had been celibate since the one time in college. The chick had just been some fetish monger, and after she had gotten her fix and taken a considerable amount Ryan's hard earned cash, she dumped him to go out with this guy that would allow her to shit on his chest. Ryan vowed after that, that he would never go through a relationship ever again.
"Don't worry about it, Ryan." John said. "Renderton's just making excuses for that one time in college when he was the bitch!" They all broke out laughing including Ryan. While Renderton sat there with his arms folded, glaring at them.
After the laughing was over, they all relaxed back in there chairs.
"Well" John said. "I am all out of money, so this is the part were this turns from a poker party into a drinking party." He reached under his seat and pulled out two six packs of beer and dropped them on the table. John watched as his three employee's pounced on the packages and tearing the card bored to sheds.
There little Friday night poker games were held in the lobby of the clinic. Anybody that happened to be driving by at eleven o'clock at night could see inside at the four of them drinking and making noise, but after a few beers, none of them really cared.
"You know, that's something else that piss's me off about you guys!" Renderton said as he took another sip of his second beer.
"Something else? Come on Renderton, you know you love us." Joe said
"See, there it is again! You all call each other by your first names, but I'm always 'Renderton.' Do you guys even know what my first name is?"
Ryan had to stop and think about that one. He never really considered what Renderton's first name was, as he never really saw Renderton as a full human being. But then again, he wasn't one to talk. Joe and John just looked at each other with awkward stares while Renderton sat, arms folded, waiting for a response.
"Um..." Joe started. "It's kind of been a while since I looked at your application, but I am sure it's on there!"
"I knew it! You people don't even care about me enough to know my name!"
"We invite you to our poker games, now we have to care about you? Jesus Renderton, how am I supposed to steal your paycheck and give a shit about your feelings at the same time?" Ryan said jokingly.
Renderton didn't think it was so funny. "It's Davy, for your information." He said, nose held high.
Ryan reached across the table and presented his hand. "Well, please to meet you Mister Davy Renderton." He said, daring Rendert... I mean Davy, to shake his hand.
"I am about to fucking bite that hand off." Davy said.
"Ok, Anger Issues!" Ryan said, pulling his hand back. "You sound like one of patients, just can't stop bitching about the world around, get over it."
"And I suppose that's what you tell you're patients?"
"For what I'm getting paid, yeah, that's probably what I should be telling them, but I am more professional than that."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, some shrink from the union came into my office today and told me I need to start going to therapy sessions myself 'cause I'm so good at what I do!"
"No shit?" Joe said.
"Yeah, I was getting ready to punch his face in, but he left before I got the chance."
"Scared him off, uh?"
"Yep." Ryan said, taking a large swig of Miller light.
This is when Ryan noticed that John was sweating again. He was shaking too, odd.
"Well... uh... what did he ask you?" John said.
"He just asked me some stuff about my child hood, stuff that I didn't want to answer." Ryan said, looking at John suspiciously.
"Right, and why didn't you want to answer it?" John asked.
Ryan looked at him kind of sideways. "Because it wasn't his place to know." Ryan leaned in close to John. "And it isn't yours either." He said. He leaned back in his chair. "If you ever, ever, try to pull this shit again, I will rip your fucking head off." he said nonchalantly.
"Ex... excuse me?" John asked.
Ryan sighed. "You're a horrible liar, John. First of all, you only put seventy-five dollars on the table tonight, that's half of what you put down usually." He said. "Psychiatric therapy is expensive, especially if you need the therapist in question to act, a talent that none of them posses. And to top it all off, you sweat like a pig when you bluff." Renderton and Joe were speechless.
Ryan put his beer down on the table and walked toward the doors, totally ignoring his winnings that he had left on the table. All he wanted to do was get home and go to sleep, preparing himself for the horrible hangover he would have in the morning.
"Fuck you, Ryan!" John called from behind him. Ryan stopped and looked behind him at John, who was visibly livid. "You have been working for five fucking years! That adds up to a shit load of poker games where you have consistently failed to let even one word slip about anything that happened before college. Not even your resume said anything besides that you have a PHD in psychiatry! I am trying to help you man! And you have the audacity to come back at me like I am the enemy?" John stood there sheathing for a few seconds. Ryan stared him in the eyes, completely calm.
Ryan sighed. "I think I will be taking an extended vacation." He said as he turned around and walked out the door, leaving Joe, John, and Renderton in the lobby staring at each other awkwardly.