Companion piece to the previous Snapshot, Desperate Measures.

God! I love the way he plays poker. Look at the way them cards are flyin' between his hands. He can make 'em do anything he wants. There. See that? One flick of a finger, and the cards are slidin' across the table, stopping right where he wants 'em.

I pick up my cards, but can't concentrate on what I got. I lose the first hand ta Ez, but I don't mind. He's got that smirky grin lurkin' in his eyes and I love that. Means a whole lotta fun after the game, if y'know what I mean. Man just loves ta win at the poker table.

I don't rightly understand how he can deal them cards and keep talkin' round the table, keepin' track of what everybody's been sayin'. I can't seem ta get my eyes offa those hands. Them cards'd sit up and beg if he wanted 'em to. Course, they ain't the only ones willin' ta sit up an beg for what those hands can do.

This is useless. I can't never seem ta play right when Ezra's dealin' our games. His hands are damned distractin'. I'd better fold before he cleans me out, cause my Ez don't play favorites when it comes ta poker an' I like my money where it is.

Wonder what it would take ta rattle that poker face?