A while back, I was in the Bucket O' Blood saloon in Virginia City. Four guys were playing poker at a table in back. I grabbed a stack of napkins and a pen and wrote…

The Game by "Buck Branson"

The drifter rode in on a Panhead chop,
his watch said half past noon.
He found some space in front of a place
called The Bloody Stump saloon.

His eyes soon fell on a sight he knew well
a game for him created.
Five card stud was the name of that game
so he ordered a beer and waited.

He nursed his brew for an hour or two
‘till a seat opened up in the game,
then he pulled out his stash of foldin’ cash
and told everybody his name.

One of the players was a seasoned pro;
one look would tell you that.
From his shiny boots and his greasy smile
to the top of his derby hat.

The son of a bitch had a nervous twitch,
played his cards close to his vest,
while another galoot had a gun in his boo
bettin’ hard, like a man possessed.

The drifter looked from face to face
and met each steely gaze.
“I’ll see your twenty bucks,” he said,
“and then I’m gonna raise.”

The game went on for two days straight
and Lady Luck grew fickle,
then the gambler pulled a shifty move
that got him in a pickle.

He dropped a card, and reaching down,
he hid it with his toes,
then slipped an ace out of his sleeve
and palmed it as he rose.

The drifter saw his furtive move
and it couldn’t be denied.
He pulled a 6 inch skinnin’ knife
and held it at his side.

The gambler grinned and spread his hand
upon the battered felt,
but the drifter knew the hand he showed
was not what he’d been dealt.

He reached across the table
and grabbed the gambler’s coat
he raised that blade of ice cold steel
and pressed it to his throat.

“Raise your foot” the drifter said
as the knife blade dug in deeper,
and under that shoe was a lowly deuce
a far cry from a keeper.

The players all grew silent,
the gambler poured with sweat;
he knew it was as close to death
as ever he would get.

No lives were ever lost that day;
no soul would fly untethered,
but the gambler left without a dime,
his bare ass tarred and feathered.