Mold

Playing online poker. One of my opponents is a girl who is "a friend for FPPs."

It is the Dating Game.

The girl and I fly together, her on my knee. I am the director of "America's Home Movies." She is flying me away from Vegas because, by court order, Vegas is the only place where I am allowed to film.

In my kitchen. I am putting together the second of two beef pot pies. I am assembling it piece by piece.

The girl says "Single for three years now. You haven't asked me."

The sink in the kitchen is overflowing. I reach for a cloth. Everything is moldy. I say that it is toxic.

A man in a park with a bundle of clothes.

At the end of an online MTT. My stack is dwindling, largely because of an aggressive player who is raising nearly every pot. His screen-name is "Thoughts."

Thoughts is all-in against one opponent on the flop. The opponent has flopped a boat. Thoughts make a bigger boat on the river. Queens full of Jacks.