Read Online No Phule Like An Old Phule by Robert & Heck Asprin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Robert & Heck Asprin
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with me. If what you said was true, why don’t everybody play that way?”
“Now there’s a question well worth asking,” said Sushi, grinning. “In fact, I think I’m going listen to myself and ask it. Why don’t you play that way?” Do-Wop’s jaw dropped. “What, and miss the chance of winning a really big one? Believe me, Soosb-there ain’t no bigger rush than when everybody looks at your hand and thinks it’s total crunk, and tries to boost the betting so’s to clean you out, and then your last hole card gives you that sure winner.”
“Right,” said Sushi, with a sigh. “So how often does that happen?”
“All the time, man,” said Do-Wop, excitedly. “I had a hand like that just a couple weeks ago. Had to draw a six to make my straight on the last card. I hung in there and got the sucker, on the last card. Woulda cleaned house, too-but all the dudes except Double-X had folded before then, and I only won seven—eight bucks on it.”
“Uh-huh,” said Sushi, unimpressed. “And how many times do you play for that kind of hand and wind up with crunk anyhow?”
“Sometimes it happens,” Do-Wop admitted. “But hey, like C. H. says-you never go for it, you never get it!”
“Yeah, he would say that,” said Sushi. “You know, I’d be tempted to give you a lesson about poker odds, except I seem to remember that you got one of those from Tulle Bascomb back on Lorelei, and it obviously didn’t take. Maybe he was right-it’s a waste of time to wise up a sucker.“
“Hey, who you callin‘ sucker?” said Do-Wop. “If you wasn’t my buddy…” Whatever he was about to say, it was cut off by a fresh voice. “Good mornin’, boys. Would y’all be interested in a little special project I just cooked up?” The two legionnaires turned to see Rev standing just behind them, with the half sneer that was the closest he came to a smile. “Yo, Rev, what’s up?” said Do-Wop.
“A li’l ol‘ electronic reconnaissance project, I think would be the best thing to call it,” said Rev. “When I ran into this here problem, I couldn’t help but think of you boys, rememberin’ how you were the ones that cracked the Nanoids’ transmissions. How’d you like to do somethin‘ along that line for me?“
Sushi shrugged. “Depends on what you’ve got in mind,” he said. “Why don’t you start talking, and we’ll let you know whether it interests us.”
“Sure, sure,” said Rev, glancing around the parade ground. “But I’ll tell you what-why don’t y’all come into my office, where maybe it’s a little more private? Then I can tell you the whole thing.”
“Lead the way,” said Sushi. “Come on, Do-Wop, this might be fun.“
“What the hell, it’s a slow day,” said Do-Wop. The two legionnaires fell into line behind Rev and followed him to his office. At first, Sushi didn’t know whether or not to make anything of the fact that Rev led them on a roundabout route instead of using the entrance nearest to his office, where Flight Leftenant Qual and two of his fellow Zenobians were working on some of their electronic equipment. But when Rev began to describe his plan, Sushi understood.
“All right, tell me about these games,” said Victor Phule, standing in the middle of the Fat Chance Casino’s main gambling floor. “How do they work, and what does the house get from them?”
“Yes, sir,” chirped the young resort PR person Tullie Bascomb had assigned to show him around. Marti Mallard was blond and perky, dressed in a short, tight skirt-the very image of a cheery bubblehead.
Phule knew better than to take her at face value. He’d already had a look at the casino’s personnel files, and noticed that Ms. Mallard had graduated magna cum laude in Interspecies Studies from Libra Arts University, followed by a business degree from Taurus Tech. Underneath that perky exterior was a steel trap of a mind, and her presence on the Fat Chance Casino’s staff showed that his
“Now there’s a question well worth asking,” said Sushi, grinning. “In fact, I think I’m going listen to myself and ask it. Why don’t you play that way?” Do-Wop’s jaw dropped. “What, and miss the chance of winning a really big one? Believe me, Soosb-there ain’t no bigger rush than when everybody looks at your hand and thinks it’s total crunk, and tries to boost the betting so’s to clean you out, and then your last hole card gives you that sure winner.”
“Right,” said Sushi, with a sigh. “So how often does that happen?”
“All the time, man,” said Do-Wop, excitedly. “I had a hand like that just a couple weeks ago. Had to draw a six to make my straight on the last card. I hung in there and got the sucker, on the last card. Woulda cleaned house, too-but all the dudes except Double-X had folded before then, and I only won seven—eight bucks on it.”
“Uh-huh,” said Sushi, unimpressed. “And how many times do you play for that kind of hand and wind up with crunk anyhow?”
“Sometimes it happens,” Do-Wop admitted. “But hey, like C. H. says-you never go for it, you never get it!”
“Yeah, he would say that,” said Sushi. “You know, I’d be tempted to give you a lesson about poker odds, except I seem to remember that you got one of those from Tulle Bascomb back on Lorelei, and it obviously didn’t take. Maybe he was right-it’s a waste of time to wise up a sucker.“
“Hey, who you callin‘ sucker?” said Do-Wop. “If you wasn’t my buddy…” Whatever he was about to say, it was cut off by a fresh voice. “Good mornin’, boys. Would y’all be interested in a little special project I just cooked up?” The two legionnaires turned to see Rev standing just behind them, with the half sneer that was the closest he came to a smile. “Yo, Rev, what’s up?” said Do-Wop.
“A li’l ol‘ electronic reconnaissance project, I think would be the best thing to call it,” said Rev. “When I ran into this here problem, I couldn’t help but think of you boys, rememberin’ how you were the ones that cracked the Nanoids’ transmissions. How’d you like to do somethin‘ along that line for me?“
Sushi shrugged. “Depends on what you’ve got in mind,” he said. “Why don’t you start talking, and we’ll let you know whether it interests us.”
“Sure, sure,” said Rev, glancing around the parade ground. “But I’ll tell you what-why don’t y’all come into my office, where maybe it’s a little more private? Then I can tell you the whole thing.”
“Lead the way,” said Sushi. “Come on, Do-Wop, this might be fun.“
“What the hell, it’s a slow day,” said Do-Wop. The two legionnaires fell into line behind Rev and followed him to his office. At first, Sushi didn’t know whether or not to make anything of the fact that Rev led them on a roundabout route instead of using the entrance nearest to his office, where Flight Leftenant Qual and two of his fellow Zenobians were working on some of their electronic equipment. But when Rev began to describe his plan, Sushi understood.
“All right, tell me about these games,” said Victor Phule, standing in the middle of the Fat Chance Casino’s main gambling floor. “How do they work, and what does the house get from them?”
“Yes, sir,” chirped the young resort PR person Tullie Bascomb had assigned to show him around. Marti Mallard was blond and perky, dressed in a short, tight skirt-the very image of a cheery bubblehead.
Phule knew better than to take her at face value. He’d already had a look at the casino’s personnel files, and noticed that Ms. Mallard had graduated magna cum laude in Interspecies Studies from Libra Arts University, followed by a business degree from Taurus Tech. Underneath that perky exterior was a steel trap of a mind, and her presence on the Fat Chance Casino’s staff showed that his
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