By Steve Braunais
A cowboy adventure starring the king of Five Card Draw.
MONDAY
Sheriff Peters approached the saloon with a raging thirst. It was 10am. The sun was up, and it had been many hours since he had last had a drink. By his estimation, six hours. He had been playing cards till 4am and came away from the table with handsome winnings - as usual.
His game of choice was Five Card Draw. One of its governing principles was when to up the ante. Sheriff Peters never saw an ante he didn’t want to up and it paid him tremendous dividends over the many years he took on other players and took their money.
But he remembered the year it all went wrong. He lost everything in ’08. He suffered some very cold years after that and the boozers who reported for the Dodge Gazette wrote that his luck had finally run out and he was washed-up, no good, a bum.
The cold got into his bones but he was not idle those years. He studied the game and waited for his chance to get back on the table. He stunned the whole damned town when he finally made his return, and cleaned up.
There was no way in hell he would ever experience those cold, cold years again. He had to stay sharp. He needed to stay on top of his game.
Sheriff Peters took a breath, and kicked open the saloon doors. He had to move past before they swung back and hit him in the face because his head did not quite reach the top of the doors.
TUESDAY
Sheriff Peters seemed to pay his opponent, No-Good Fathead Luxon, no mind as they faced each other over a midnight game of Five Card Draw.
No-Good kept up a steady patter but it was as if the Sheriff wasn’t listening.
He just sat there and won every hand until it was time for No-Good to go to work. He asked the Sheriff if there were any chores he needed doing. The Sheriff despatched him to stop handing out puberty blockers to the confused young children of Dodge, and No-Good, as ever, complied with his wishes.
WEDNESDAY
Sheriff Peters seemed to pay his opponent, Weasel-Face Jackass Seymour, no mind as they faced each other over a 1am game of Five Card Draw.
Weasel-Face kept up a steady patter but it was as if the Sheriff wasn’t listening.
He just sat there and won every hand until it was time for Weasel-Face to go to work. On his way out, he thanked the Sheriff for supporting his Regulatory Standards Bill.
"You’ve only got so many cards you can play," the Sheriff told the Dodge Gazette boozers. "Come next election, I’ll shoot that Bill down in the street like a dog."
THURSDAY
Sheriff Peters seemed to pay his opponent, Maths-Dunce Nitwit Willis, no mind as they faced each other over a 2am game of Five Card Draw.
Maths-Dunce kept up a steady patter but it was as if the Sheriff wasn’t listening.
He just sat there and won every hand until it was time for Maths-Dunce Nitwit to go to work. She had an appointment with representatives of a company that wanted to privatise Five Card Draw.
The boozers from the Dodge Gazette asked the Sheriff for comment.
"That deal," he said, aiming a wad of chewing tobacco at a spittoon, "is dead in the water."
The wad landed fair and square in the spittoon. It always did.
FRIDAY
Sheriff Peters seemed to pay his opponent, Sweaty-Palms Commie Hipkins, no mind as they faced each other over a 3am game of Five Card Draw.
Sweaty-Palms kept up a steady patter but it was as if the Sheriff wasn’t listening.
He just sat there and won every hand until it was time for Sweaty-Palms to go back to work.
"Come over to the Red Star ranch sometime for dinner," said Sweaty-Palms. "We got hot food and a warm fire. I know you don’t like the cold."
The Sheriff took a long last slug of his rotgut, and replied, "You bet".
