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ROYAL FLUSH by William Brill
The Maharajah is a proud man. No doubt his dinner conversation for years will include
some variation of his victory over the "Texas Oil Millionaire" at cards. Only the "millionaire" is accurate,
and only after today.
The hundred grand buy-in for the afternoon's amusement was the hard part. It required two
years of beg, borrow and steal, mostly the last, plus a bit of luck and considerable hard work. The invitation to the yacht
at Cannes was easily got, and the proposition of a passe-temps between luncheon and the evening's festivities was eagerly
accepted.
The game was five card stud for table stakes, which meant wagers would be confined to what was brought
to table when we sat down, ostensibly one hundred thousand dollars each.
The time frame was three hours and within
two, most of the chips had deserted the Maharajah. A final hand was dealt. The initial bets were small until the final card.
Rules of course didn't allow simply buying the pot or the game would have been over in two hands. The bet was equal to his
remaining chips, a mere five thousand dollars. Pathetic really.
"One may bet," the Maharajah said,"whatever
was brought to table?"
"Yes, of course."
"And was not this ring brought to table?"
He indicated the legendary Grand Canary Diamond worth conservatively, three million dollars.
"Only if you stipulate
it as equal to all the chips."
"Certainly." He removed the ring and offered it for inspection. A
magnificent thing, said to be the largest perfect yellow diamond in the world.
After the bet was eagerly accepted,
the hands were shown. A great hand, kings high full house, was spectacularly beaten by the Maharajah's Royal Flush. Shouts
went up, oohs, and aahhs. Applause. And in this corner, chagrin.
He was magnanimous in praise of the play, and,
after all, it had only been a hundred thousand. His elation was contagious, but it was understood that losing in such a dramatic
fashion might dampen one's spirit.
A trip to the head to swallow a large capsule and then off the yacht. Each guest
was thoroughly searched, coming and going, in these insecure times.
The private buyer will be pleased. The Maharajah
will not be pleased when he discovers he is now the owner of a flawless ersatz yellow diamond, the best money, not much money,
could buy. No one short of a jeweler with a loupe could tell the difference and the Maharajah is a proud man. To admit it
is fake would be to admit he was fooled.
Passing that capsule will be a Royal pain and retrieving it unpleasent,
but it does prove that under some circumstances one can beat a Royal Flush.
Fin
This is an obvious "flush"
story, I hope some variation of it hasn't crossed your monitor yet. If it sounds odd it may be in part because I am attempting
to write without using personal pronouns. I paint without using black, and that has worked out well.
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