Empires SMP oneshots

Stat poker

           It was a quiet morning in Tumble Town. Breeze blowing lightly, scattering tumbleweeds all over the place. Roosters crowing to wake all the people, but they were late; there weren't many still asleep. Many lazily stayed in the comfort and shade of their homes, to avoid the harsh mesa sun. At this time of day, it was uncommon to see activities being wrought in Tumble Town.

           The saloon was a different story. Inside its wooden walls, people loudly clamored their bets and tossed coins to each other. A pair of chickens stood scratching the sand-covered floor of the cage they were kept in; ready to strike at each other and win their owners' bets. Fireflies and moths, late for bed, still floated lazily around the rusty candle chandelier. Waitresses in cowgirl outfits danced from table to table; serving great quantities of drinks.

          It was quite noisy in the saloon, despite the early hours of the morning. The chickens crowed and charged; shouts of laughter and groans of dismay erupted around several tables as bets were won and lost. Coins and chips and tokens clattered loudly as they were haphazardly stacked and then passed to other players.

          The lonely bartender raced around his little cubicle trying to attend to everyone's various orders at once; the clinking of glasses was a constant sound as he passed drink after drink to people across the polished oak table top; most of his customers were drunkards who hadn't gone home the previous night and didn't care if they'd wet their pants as long as they got another drink. And then another and another and another.

          One table with one group of people didn't seem to notice the noise; the five of them too concentrated on their game to notice. They were Count fWhip of Gobland, Mayor Lizzie, Sausage of Sanctuary, and even the sheriff of Tumble Town himself, Sheriff Jimmy. And his predecessor, the old sheriff Roswell Jameson the sixteenth. They were playing a game of stat poker; they would take turns betting on a particular activity that they assumed they did the most. For a simple game, it was oddly enticing and engrossing.

           It was Sausage's turn. He'd already reaped quite a quantity of diamonds from betting on his wood harvest and times spent boating, among other odd things. Close behind him was Lizzie, who won when she told everyone about how many sweetberries she'd harvested. fWhip was nearly tied with her over the times he mined for weeks on end. The sheriffs were in last place, a spot they did not enjoy being in.

           It was the old sheriff's turn. He tossed half a stack of diamonds onto the table. All his winnings for that day. "Silverfish slain," He said simply. Everyone turned to look at him, Jimmy in disbelief. "Old sheriff, are you sure? Silverfish aren't a common sight around here; and you're old. And that's all your money!" "Too late, he said it," Lizzie cackled, putting down all of her winnings too." Playing risky,"  fWhip said, doing the same. "This is fun!" Sausage declared, likewise betting all of his diamonds.

           Jimmy only put one diamond down. He glanced at the old sheriff. "I hope you know what you're doing, because you're borrowing my diamonds!" the old sheriff just laughed. "Oh, ye of little faith! I've been playing stat poker since before you were born; I know how to win this game." "Are you really sure about that?" fWhip asked jestingly. "Silverfish are rare in the mesa, or so I've been told." Jimmy groaned. If only he'd kept his mouth shut; now the others would bet higher and he and the old sheriff would lose more diamonds.

           The old sheriff grinned and laughed; the exact opposite of what Jimmy was doing. He laughed hard enough that he started to choke a little. Lizzie patted his back while he drank directly from a bottle and tipped all the contents down his throat. Satisfied, he turned back to the game. "Just for idle conversation," He said casually, "What makes you all think you'd win?"

           "I literally live under a mountain, where silverfish are plentiful," fWhip said. "Plus the end stronghold is in my empire." "Animalia's attics are known for being weirdly untidy," Lizzie said, seemingly proud of it for some reason. "I've got sculk growing up there, I've got termites in the walls, and I've got silverfish. Lots and lots of silverfish for me to kill." "Sausage?" Jimmy sighed, asking the man who was infamous for winning stat poker pretty much every time he played. In retrospect, he wondered why he even invited him.

           "Oh, you do not want to know what I've been doing to kill so much silverfish," Sausage giggled. Everyone nodded. They'd learned from experience of playing with him before that it was best to not ask Sausage why certain stats of his were so high. "Okay, since everyone's tossed in all their money with the exception of the sheriff," Roswell said, "Let's begin. Lizzie, the wand, if you please."

           Lizzie handed him a strange flexible black stick that she called a wand. She never told anyone where exactly she'd gotten the wand, but she claimed that it was a lie detector. If it was pointed at someone who was talking with absolute veracity, then nothing would happen. If they were lying, then the wand would beat them on the head until they confessed the truth. Lizzie had mentioned to the sheriff that she had this wand a while back, and since then, Jimmy had been borrowing it for stat poker, just to be sure everyone was telling the truth about their stats.

           So Roswell took the wand and pointed it at Jimmy. "Shoot," The old sheriff said. Jimmy sighed and tried to remember how much silverfish he'd killed. "Around seven, I think, I don't really remember," He said. The wand did nothing. Roswell pointed it at fWhip, who proudly said, "Seventy eight!" The wand jumped out of the old sheriff's hands and started to hit him on the head. "Ow, okay! It was seventy seven!" The wand dropped to the floor and Lizzie picked it up and pointed it at herself.

           "Ninety nine," She grinned and fWhip looked at her in disbelief. "Wha- how?!" "I told you Animalia has messy attics," Lizzie said smugly. "Ooh, my turn!" Sausage grabbed the wand and pointed it at himself too. "Two hundred and two!" He said. Everyone watched the wand with bated breath. It did absolutely nothing. Everyone glanced at Sausage, who was doing a little victory dance.

           "How have you killed over two hundred silverfish?" fWhip asked. Sausage winked and opened his mouth to reply, but Lizzie beat him to it. "We don't ask," She said for him, and Sausage nodded. "Don't dance just yet, young man," Roswell said with a hint of something else in his voice. "You still haven't beaten me." "Oh, give it up," Jimmy said, sighing heavily, head buried in his hands. "Sausage won and now all my diamonds are down the drain." I really need to stop inviting Sausage, Jimmy added silently to himself.

            The sheriff patted him gently on the shoulder. "Now, now, sheriff, don't say all your eggs are rotten before they hatch. Now, the wand, please?" Sausage pointed the wand at him and Roswell started speaking, slowly and surely. "I, Roswell Jameson the sixteenth, hereby promise that I have indeed killed over three hundred and eighty silverfish in the abandoned mineshaft near Tumble Town that I had been trapped in for I don't know how many decades, and I therefore win this round of stat poker."

           Everyone's eyes widened and stared at the wand. The wand would decide the winner of not only this round, but of the whole game, because everyone had just thrown in all their diamonds and therefore couldn't play anymore after this. Whoever won would go home with everyone's money. Sausage leaned forward in his seat, and he wasn't the only one. Jimmy too was hoping against hope that the old sheriff hadn't just doomed all of his diamonds. And right before their eyes, the wand that sat in Sausage's hand did absolutely nothing and proved that Roswell Jameson the sixteenth had won the game.

           "Yes!" Jimmy cheered, jumping out of his chair and doing a victory dance too, even if he hadn't won. In his opinion, if the old sheriff won, then he did too, because it was his diamonds that were on the line. Lizzie and fWhip sank in their seat, the defeat weighing heavily on them. They'd just lost all their winnings. Sausage, on the other hand, looked curious rather than glum.

            "Hey, old sheriff, how'd you end up stuck in a mineshaft?" He asked. Roswell laughed and leaned back in his seat, shoving all the diamonds on the table into a sack for him to carry home. "Oh, that's quite the story to tell. Quite the story indeed."