“So, this is the four round?”
“No, it’s the three round.”
“So it’s not the four round.”
“No. It’s the three round.”
“The three round.”
“Yes. The three round.”
“Not the four.”
“No.”
“We did four already.”
“Yes.”
“So this is the –”
“Oy, just DEAL THE CARDS!”

“Nice work taking that trick. Which I needed. You know where that trick would look really good, actually?”
“If you say ‘up your butt’ ONE MORE TIME, I am stuffing you down the garbage dispo–”
“IN YOUR NOSTRI–”
“It’s only a game, Sa–”
“Aaaaaaaaand you. You do not talk to me.”
“Isn’t this fun, guys?”
“Could you just SHUT UP.”

“…What?”
“‘What’? ‘WHAT’? Listen to this one now all, ‘Trump, vas ist das, I don’t know,’ YOU’RE NOT FOOLING ANYONE.”
“I’m supposed to know a nine is the high card?”
“Gen knew.”
“Oh, here we g–”
“Gen cheats, everyone knows this.”
“I’m sitting right here.”
“So? Everyone knows.”
“I…fine.”
“So if everyone knows –”
“OKAY, DAD.”

“The marriage…is off.”
“What did they do?”
“Oh, not theirs. Ours. Club-hoarder.”
“Every time with this.”
“You are hoarding the –”
“Do you want to throw a card please? Today?”
“Hell, throw them all, at least that way they’ll be shuffled properly.”
“You, quiet down.”
“Don’t talk to her like she’s a dog. …Not one word, Mr. S.”
“Throw a card. Throw it to Reno, I don’t care, but it’s your turn, so can we just get on with –”
“Fine, fine, all right.”
“NOT THAT CARD.”

“Eleven for me, Dad.”
“I heard you.”
“Then why did you put a one down there.”
“Oops.”
“‘Oops.’ Nice try, old man. [yoink] Let’s just check your math he– one-twelve?”
“Who has one-twelve?”
“Gen cheats, everyone knows this.”
“I’m not keeping score, Dad.”
“Well then obviously the two of you are in league somehow, with the –”
“I’m not even sitting next to him, how am I cheati–”
“Somebody’s cheating. Look at this. This isn’t even an Arabic numeral.”
“Fine, you keep score with everyone screaming at –”
“What is that, is that a rho? Dad, this is low, even for you.”
“What did I do?”
“Her dad, Dad. Not you.”
“Oh, he probably did something.”
“I’m not talking to you. Nobody’s talking to you.”
“I didn’t even want that trick!”
“But you took it. With a jack. I rest my case.”
“Sarah, keep score.”
“I don’t want to keep score.”
“Then give me back the sheet, please. And don’t point that pencil at me.”
“Who’s winning?”
“Dad. He has a billion and psi points.”
“Dad is winning?”
“Their dad, Jaygen. Not ours.”
“Anyone have an Advil?”

“Whose seven is that?”
“…”
“WHOSE SEVEN I–”
“Mine.”
“It’s yours.”
“It’s mine, what?”
“Do it, Mr. S.”
“Do what? What?”
“Do it. Pull the trigger.”
“Not again. Sarah, do not tell your brother to call your future father-in-law once removed a di–”
“Do it, Mr. S. Ma, stay out of it.”
“You stay out of it, that’s not even your six!”
“That was my ace, and for your information, I had a plan and now it is ruined, DO IT, MR. S.”
“Nnnnnnnnn-deeeehhhhhck-heeeeeead-eh!”
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
“I told you we should score it the other way, this is chaos!”
“This is not about scoring. This is about you picking on me with medium trump!”
“When, when did you say this, in the bathroom, I didn’t hear this.”
“Who goes to the bathroom during a hand?”
“Maybe that’s where he got these shitty cards, this hand is a foot. Where’d you find this, in the tank?”
“Cheaters, is who. Please tell me this isn’t the last of that Riesling or I’m going to kill myself.”
“It’s the last of that Riesling. Here’s a fork.”
“Oh, you now?”
“Let me show you how to use that, Ma.”
“We’re committing felonies over a seven. What kind of rrrrrank ah-mah-tours –”
“Nnnnnnnnn-deeeehhhhhck-heeeeeead-zzzeh!”
“Mr. S, that’ll do.”
“You’re damn right that’ll do, tell it to Middle Trumpy Sales over here.”

“Sarah?”
“One.”
“That’s your only functioning finger? You couldn’t use your index –”
“No, I could not, because your husband just –”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to not bid one, nnnnnnn–”
“Hey, you dealt, it’s your own fault.”
“You also smelt, ha ha ha.”
“Shut up, Gen.”
“You shut up.”
“Make me.”
“I’ll make her.”
“Dad! Whose side are you on?”
“Hers. You cheat, everyone knows this.”
“I’ll make you BOTH wear yellow taffeta.”
“Make him wear yellow taffeta, he’s the one whose one bid scr–”
“All right all right ALL RIGHT, Jaygen, go.”
“…”
“What in the Sam Hill kind of lead is that?”
“…The kind where I got? One card? …What!”

“…You.”
“…YOU!”
“And you two! What’s with the giggling!”
“How am I out of wine again?”
“Okay, so Sarah burned, as we can see from the bird. Argen?”
“This! Is a nightmare!”
“So, ten.”
“Are you licking the cards?”

“You know that bonding we did earlier? About how we both hate raisins?”
“Who saw this coming? Anyone else?”
“Yeah, well, consider yourself de-bonded, because NO NO NO, WHY WOULD YOU PLAY THAT CARD, WHY?”
“I’m supposed to help your ass? YOU’RE A DEVILS FAN!”
“What the — what? Devils, schmevils, you’re not even following suit!”
“I don’t have that suit!”
“We’re talking about hockey now?”
“Just play a card so Ma can take that trick and I can get down the happy business of beating your son to de–”
“Whatever, fine, here.”
“You’re playing that?”
“Did she not just say ‘play a card’? I played a card! I’m not the one cheating!”
“Oh is that so.”
“Nnnnnnnnn-deeeehhhhhck-heeeeeead-zzzeh!”
“That’s helping.”
“I agree. …Stop drinking out of my glass or I’m chopping your face off with this…this…”
“Salt spoon.”
“Salt spoon! Fear me!”
“Shut up, Ma.”
“You shut up.”
“Not you, her Ma.”
“Nineteen hours in labor. For this.”
“Spades aren’t trump, you know.”
“I…crap.”
“Eeeeeee-yeeeeeeees.”
“Zip it, Stretch.”

“No, see, these are Argen’s, these are Shelgen’s –”
“Just start over.”
“No, no, it’s fine, just take these cards, and these are…wait.”
“Just start over!”
“She doesn’t need to start over, it’s fine, just deal one more over here –”
“I have five cards.”
“It’s the five round.”
“It’s the four round.”
“It’s the five round.”
“No, it’s the four round.”
“Then why do I have five cards?”
“SARAH, NOT ONE –”
“Because Ma is a mor–”
“Fine, YOU deal if you’re so great.”
“It’s the four round, though.”
“It’s your turn.”
“No, it’s my turn.”
“That’s what I just. Said.”
“We know that, shut up.”
“But if I have five cards –”
“What, just start over, who cares!”
“Just flip the extra card over and that’s tru–”
“I have five cards also.”
“Fine, I’m starting over.”
“No, just put it b–”
“No trump? Dude. Start over, fuck that.”
“Wait, but I have a –”
“Nobody cares, we’re starting over.”
“I care.”
“Nobody who counts cares. Ma, just –”
“Could we not shuffle the spots off the cards, please?”
“Oh, sorry, Dad, do you have to be someplace?”
“She already dealt them, what’s the freakin’ difference?”
“This is my point.”
“But it’s the five round.”
“IT’S THE FOUR ROUND, NNNNNNNNN-DEEEEHHHHHCK-HEEEEEEAD-ZZEH!”
“Why are you starting with Gen?”
“You wanted her to stop shuffling, Dad, this is what you get.”
“Enough with the yelling.”
“I WASN’T YELLING. THIS? IS YELLING.”
“…WHAAAT?”
“Don’t encourage her, please.”
“You shut up!”
“I didn’t –”
“You were thinking it. …Whose cards are these.”
“Maybe if you were paying attention instead of screaming in your father’s face –”
“Don’t stick up for him, he gave you an omega last time.”
“That’s a two.”
“A TWO? I HAD A TWELVE! This scoring, it’s madness, I can’t take it.”
“You think Gen cheats? This man is a parent.”
“What, are these Cyrillic letters?”
“He goes to church. He lies to God.”
“Who doesn’t. Whose bid is it?”
“This is unnecessary melodrama, in my opinion.”
“Shame, Father. SHAME!”
“Aramaic? Who scores in Aramaic?”
“‘Father’?”
“He’s left-handed.”
“That is not an excuse.”
“And that is not a three.”
“Can we bid now, or should I run out for an adult diaper?”
“Pick up some shiraz while you’re out.”

“I won! I won! I won I won I won!”
“Shelgen, get the car.”
“She won? She’s an English major!”
“A cheating English major. GET THE CAR.”
“Look who’s talking, um — hieroglyphic scoring guy!”
“Yeah, good one.”
“Shut up.”
“Is she trying to sing the Wide World of Sports theme?”
“Guess she didn’t win a bucket to carry that tune in.”
“I won I won I won! I won I won I won!”
“This is a new low, dignity-wise.”
“Well…it’s a low. I don’t know how new it is.”
“It’s a low for YOU! Because you didn’t WIN!”
“GET THE CAR!”
“Nnnnnnnnn-deeeehhhhhck-heeeeeead-zzzeh!”
“Can’t you just say ‘dickheads’ like a normal person?”
“Normal people call their families ‘dickheads’?”
“‘Normal people’?”
“Where’d you put that fork, Ma?”
“It’s IN THE CAR!”
“What’s with the screaming, I’m standing right here.”
“Okay, well…see you guys at Christmas?”
“Are we taking pie?”
“Get your coat.”
“Consolation prize? Pie?”
“Who took my gloves?”
“I think the beeg weener over there is holding them.”
“Or stealing them.”
“It’s fine, I’ll just freeze to death.”
“Bye!”
“Pie?”
“They’re not leaving, she can’t find her gloves.”
“Okay, so, Christmas. Hanukkah?”
“Prepare to be assimilated. By Hanukkah Harry.”
“Wait, he was scoring in Hebrew?”
“Ma, we’re not Jewish, just a reminder.”
“We aren’t?”
“Not you. My Ma.”
“We’d better let them leave before they call the cops.”
“So you’re not taking pie?”

November 28, 2005

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