The Bad Hand.

The Man deals. My hand is heavy, three Fours and a Two of Cards. I break even and call, even though I know the Man shuffles Tangier style, all fingers and cracked Aces. The chips rattle slow and I grip plastic, the Fours snap over Eight, and that Two of Cards pulls me into click, quick. I shovel and split, the tables about to melt, and the Man is eyeballing hotter than told.