A Time to Bode

[DoF Archive]

Date: 6/24/2000 9:46 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Bode BoJangles


During a trivial night at one of RhyDin's many rundown clubs, a pair of bumpkins could be seen at their usual oaken table, proliferating a common discourse within the smoggy air and droning noise of chitchat.
"How many, Bode?" The preliminary response was a nose-twitch.
"Ya know what burns my bumper, Karz?"
"What's that, Bode?" Carz's eyes never left his hand.
"Ya 'member that there brawlin' tournament I meant t' attend the night ya decided to wager me to drink ya under the table?" Carz's chin tipped and rose with mechanical grace. Bode yanked two from his hand and slapped them face first against the wooden surface. "Gimme two, an' get rid o' that damn poker face." Carz did as he was instructed, the first part anyway.
Taking a swig from his lager bottle, Bode carefully assessed his cards and wiped his chin on the back of a hand. Two ladies, two jacks, and a duece. A jack off, he excogitated with amusement. "So anywho, I find out the broad who works fo' the place an' set up the hubbub ended up winnin'. Now, I don't know 'bout you, but somethin' damn near stinks." It was obvious he wasn't getting much sympathy from his confidant. "So I challenged her butt," he
spoke while gliding five red chips into the pot, three more than Karz opened with,"and--tha's three--I'm gonna show 'er what shoulda happened that night."
"Atta boy. Two." Seven more chips were added to the pot on Carz's side. Bode obliged with a pair of his own.
"Bud, if ya'd seen 'er, ya'd be bangin' your head wonderin' how the hell a shrimpy redhead like that could knock around fellers almost as tough as m'self. . . . I called your butt, by the way."
Carz laid out a triplet of eights evenly, leaving Bode to drop his defeated hand facedown against the table flat and lift the bottle to his lips. "Damn. Jack off."
"What'd you call me?" Carz was forced to delay his chip gathering, and Bode carved a smirk around the bottleneck.