THE DEAD WRITER'S POKER GAME
A Spoof
by james g. piatt
“Deal the damn cards! You do know how don’t you Franklin?” Jibed Balzac.
“Silence may not be wisdom, but your babbling is folly!” Franklin sneered.
“Twain you damn giant mustached machine, you give me the friggen shivers,” Balzac said as he preened his hair.
“There is no sadder sight than a French peasant idiot, and Balzac you are it.” Twain said puffing on his stogie while having a curious dream.
“I agree with Twain.” Stevenson smiled.
“Well Stevenson you are a crabbed imbecile who only skims the surface of life.” Balzac sneered.
“Don’t call me an imbecile you French liberal pervert, you don’t have any aims in your friggen life!” Stevenson yelled.
“How many cards do you want Longfellow, you nonsensical flute player?”
“Even though you have a hole in your mind Twain, you have been able to plaster it over with conceit. I’ll take one!”
“I write injuries in dust, benefits in marble Longfellow, are you a smart enough Harvard man to comprehend that?
“Longfellow underrates being happy as a virtue.” Stevenson quipped. “I’ll take three cards.”
“I can’t be happy! Besides you are all incapable of doing anything worthwhile especially writing!” Longfellow yelled.
“Listen you friggen Navy freak the more you judge the less loveable you are!” Balzac yelled. I’ll take two cards Twain.”
“You moron! If you knew my history you wouldn’t be so damn critical!” Longfellow stated petulantly. “I’ll take one card Twain.”
“Longfellow, those things that hurt, instruct, and you could use tons of instruction!” Franklin laughed.
“Shut your friggen mouth Franklin, you are nothing but the word deaf tenth son of a soap maker as well as a moron.” Longfellow screamed.
“Be easy on Longfellow Franklin, he thinks one of the best things is flowers at his feet!” Stevenson roared.
“Why are you hacks picking on poor Longfellow, he never overwhelmed anyone with his quality of words, written or oral!” Zola laughed. “I’ll take four cards.”
“Zola you shipping clerk Frog, your writings are your worst misfortune!” Longfellow bellowed.
Twain frowned and said; “I have known a lot of troubles, but most never happened until I played poker with you losers. Dealer takes one card.”
“It takes less time to do something right than explain why you did it wrong, let’s play cards!” Stevenson replied.
Twain took a big puff and smiled as he picked up his cards. “As I look at your ugly faces I can only say, a lie can travel half way around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes!”
Balzac shook his head and said, “Twain the more one judges, the less one loves.”
“Balzac that’s the most stupid thing I have ever heard, your girlie psychological writings not withstanding!” Stevenson groaned.
Longfellow said, “Stevenson you inland voyager, you can’t run away from your weakness, and your writing is as weak as Scottish tea!”
“Fellows give it a break,” Franklin stated, “the best medicine is resting and fasting however, your minds are in constant rest, and you’re too fast with your words.”
Longfellow glared at Franklin. “A single conversation across the table with a wise man is better than ten year’s study of books. It’s a shame I don’t see one.”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, “your noise proves nothing. A hen who lays an egg cackles as if she laid an asteroid!” Twain laughed.
“What the hell does that mean Twain?”
“It means twenty dollars to you Stevenson, you unionist loudmouth!” Twain replied. “Remember geniuses live and die undiscovered, by them or others. You will all be remembered if you put twenty dollars in the pot.”
Stevenson shook his head and threw his twenty into the pot. “I laugh at your ignorance Twain, because it is a better preparation for your life than many other things, like your high sounding carping in my ear!”
“I’ll see your twenty and up it another twenty,” Longfellow stated slyly. “The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy and I give no mercy.”
“That’s forty to you Zola.” Longfellow laughed. “By the way I heard you hate Napoleon III.”
Zola folded and got up red faced from the table. I can’t take this weirdness anymore, I’m leaving you bastards.”
Samuel Johnson standing in the rear said, “few things are impossible to diligence, and that I have in abundance!”
“For crying out loud Johnson, just sit down, we don’t need your lip!” Twain remarked. “Okay Balzac, it’s forty bucks to you, if you are out of debt!”
Balzac frowned put down his forty dollars and raised it twenty more. “I think this game is played by pygmies with anticipatory miseries.”
Franklin shook his head, and said, “Balzac you French peasant, half a truth is often a great lie. I’ll see your raise and raise you another two hundred and fifty dollars.”
Johnson said to the others; “gentlemen, curiosity is one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous mind. To bad yours have ceased to be energetic.”
After everyone had bet every penny they had, Franklin laughed and said, “gentlemen, an investment in knowledge always pays the best interests. I raise you five hundred dollars to instruct you.”
Johnson shook his head and laughed; “betting is a disease and the chains of habit are too weak to be felt until they are too strong to be broken. My sage advice was not welcomed. Those of you who needed it most seemed to like it least!”
“Shut up Johnson,” the others yelled as they threw in their hands.
Franklin smiled, pulled in the huge pot, and said; “after crosses and losses, men grow humbler and wiser.”
Balzac turned over Franklin’s hand. There were two Queens of hearts but no other card higher than a five. The others swore and ran after Franklin as he sped out the door.
Johnson yelled after him, “remember Franklin, a decent provision for the poor is the best measure of civilization, and for staying alive.”
