Royal Flush sat in his office after opening night feeling quite pleased with himself. The opening of his casino was a big hit. After directing the mob enforcers to Sweetie Belle, he hadn’t seen or heard from them the rest of the night, and his ledger balanced nicely, with no “protection money” expense in red ink. Of course he knew that he couldn’t sit back on his haunches; vice was ever present, especially at a casino, but this time he was determined to thwart his longtime nemesis.
Reflecting on the evening, he began to reminisce about the strange journey that brought him here. It all started when he was a little colt; even before he got his cutie mark, he loved to play games. Not sports, he was rather small for his age and didn’t particularly enjoy running outside, but card games, board games, anything involving chance, strategy and rules he leapt at the opportunity to play. And then one day, when a friend suggested they play for money, his life changed. Sure, games were enjoyable when you were playing for fun, or at most bragging rights, but with real tangible rewards on the line, stakes that both players cared about, the game became something more.
It was during that first game for money, he fondly recalled, that his cutie mark appeared. He was playing poker with a group of friends, not high stakes, only a few bits, but still real cold hard cash. Five card draw was the game, no wilds. It was late in the game, down to him and his best friend, Quick Splint, who of course became a doctor; he remembered the surge of excitement he felt when he flipped over his hand and saw the cards staring back at him; ace, queen, jack, and a ten of spades combined with an ugly looking five of hearts. He eyed his friend slash opponent; his face was a perfectly blank stare. In that moment he knew, just knew that this was his hand to lose. His friend called the big blind, passing control to him. He decided not to waste time with the familiar series of incremental raises; smiling confidently he pushed his small pile of bits into the middle of the table.
Far from being cowed, Quick laughed at him and matched the gesture. “I’ll play these,” he had said with a smirk. The future doctor flipped his cards face up with the relaxed confidence and panache of a pony who knew he had the better hand, and for the moment, he did. Royal Flush found himself staring at a full house, nines over jacks. Not an unbeatable hand but a very good one nevertheless.
“I’ll take one,” was his reply at the time. He flipped over his four matching cards and looked his friend in the eye. Both colts knew that the game was over; either he would draw the king of spades and win, or draw anything else and lose. His hoof shook as he reached for the card on the top of the deck. He hesitated for a moment with his hoof on the top card, he took a deep breath and slowly flipped it over, unable to watch his fate, but equally unable to look away. An instant, yet a lifetime later, he read the king of spades and rejoiced.
He felt a warm glow. He had won. He had put his faith in the cards, and they had rewarded him. Far from being dejected, his friend smiled at him. “Good game buddy, you might want to get yourself to a mirror.” He had been so wrapped up in winning that he had failed to register the soft glow coming from his flank that he was now acutely aware of. He wheeled around to see a shiny spade emblazoned on his flank, the pitch black standing out against his alabaster white coat.
The next day he went to the town hall and changed his name to Royal Flush, a more fitting moniker, and set out to fulfill his destiny; but like so many young colts, he quickly found that the world of gambling was most decidedly not run on sunshine and rainbows.
No, the world of gambling was run on two things: dirty money and sex. Those two things seeped into every aspect of the lifestyle Royal Flush loved. When he worked in Las Pegasus as a blackjack dealer, he quickly learned that casino’s didn’t make enough money from games, even though the house always had the odds in their favor, to stay open. Casinos made their real money by using those games as to launder money for the mob and also provide a legitimate business to front the mob's other nefarious dealings. Every casino had a mob consigliore on staff overseeing the family’s interests. “Mares of the evening” stalked the casino bars offering their services to drunken patrons with both the mob and the casino taking a cut. Backroom poker games and negotiations offered another chance for the house to take a cut, and some families had been known to run their own games with odds that were even more skewed than normal, or outright crooked, because who was there to complain to.
As a lowly dealer, Royal Flush was in no position to change anything, but early on, he vowed to one day run a casino free of the tawdry influences of organized crime and sex for hire. His first venture, the Saddlebag, had gone bust quickly. When he refused to play ball with the mob, they quickly set about ruining his business, smashing his slot machines and intimidating both his patrons and his employees. And a surprising number of patrons stayed away anyway when they found out that his bar was kept free of “escorts”.
His lesson learned, he escaped to Ponyville in the hopes of starting fresh. Ponyville offered several reasons that he assumed would make it a refuge from the plagues that ravaged legalized gambling. For one, Ponyville was a small town, with no crime to speak of. And even better, Princess Twilight herself lived there. Surely even the mob would think twice about attempting to set up shop in her backyard. But never in his wildest dreams did he possibly imagine that the answer to his problems would just show up on his doorstep in the guise of the most ridiculously adorable filly ever. He had been prepared for a long, hard slog in his war against vice to save the thing he loved; now he had been handed the most powerful force he had ever seen, and he had no intention of wasting it.
***
“I’m on vacation and I was hoping I that you would have ah..somepony to play with on staff. Y’know, a filly who likes to have a good time, wouldn’t mind coming up to my room for a little private gaming with me and my buddy.”
Royal Flush listened to the request, trying to hide his disgust. Why should ponies assume that he kept prostitutes on staff? Because other casinos did? That’s what he was railing against. Last night he had politely fielded a request for “private entertainment” and told anypony who asked that no, he didn’t offer that service, but tonight his answer would be different. It was once again time to deploy the nuclear option.
“As a matter of fact we have just the pony. Her name is Sweetie Belle and she can be up to your room within the hour.”
“She sounds perfect.”
“Oh she is.”
Sweetie Belle reported for her second shift at the casino eager for her to continue her adventure, so she was surprised when Royal Flush asked her back into his office rather than sending her out to the blackjack table.
“Hi Mr. Flush. Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?”
“Nope, I just have a different job for you tonight.”
Sweetie smiled her impossibly devastating smile. “You can count on me sir!”
“I knew I could. A guest has requested a private dealer to play games with him and a friend. Since you’re the most fun dealer we have, I told him I’d send you up.”
“Oh wow, umm are you sure I’m ready? I’ve only been working here for a day.”
“You’ll be fine.” Royal Flush walked over to a cabinet, and much to Sweetie’s surprise, he pulled out a few board games along with a deck of cards and poker chips. “Here, this should be everything you need to have a good time. If you need something else just call down to the front desk and I’ll send someone up. The guests are named Braeburn and Thunderlane, and they are in room 202.”
“Yes sir,” Royal Flush could only grin as she bounded out of his office with the games stuffed in her saddlebags.
Sweetie knocked on the door, only to be greeted by two very surprised looking stallions. “Can I help you? I don’t want to buy any cookies if that’s why you’re here.” Braeburn said hoping to get rid of this uninvited guest before his entertainment arrived.
Sweetie was caught off guard; they knew she was coming right? “Are you Braeburn and Thunderlane? I’m Sweetie Belle. Mr. Flush sent me up here to play some games. I brought Monopony and Snakes and Ladders and Candyland, but if you have a game you’d rather play, we can do that too. I’m a real fast learner.”
For the second time, Sweetie found two stallions looking at her slackjawed. “Just a second there Sweetie, I’m uhh gonna talk to my buddy here for a sec.” Thunderlane said ushering a still slackjawed Braeburn into the room.
The pair retreated into the room and began to speak in a low whisper.
“This is soo not what I had in mind. I should report this guy to the better business bureau.” Braeburn whispered in a tone of voice that was somwhere between annoyed and angry .
“What are ya goin’ say? I ordered a hooker and he sent up a filly with board games. Who do you think gets arrested in that scenario?” Thunderlane replied, playing the voice of reason.
“But...”
Sweetie Belle couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she was beginning to get worried that they didn’t want to play with her, and it would be bad for the casino if ponies didn’t think she was fun.
“Umm please give me a chance, I’m lots of fun, everpony says so,” she said with her wide eyes and unintentionally adorable pout.
“You don’t even know what fun is,” Braeburn muttered under his breath.
“Hey look at it this way, when Gala asks what we did this weekend, you won’t have to lie to her,” Thunderlane whispered to his disappointed friend.
Braeburn let out a groan as Thunderlane turned to Sweetie Belle with a smile.
“Sorry bout that Sweetie, we couldn’t decide what we wanted to play first. Monopony okay with you?”
“Yay! I call the carriage,” Sweetie said as she happily bounced into the room, prepared for a night of fun.
Thunderlane began to set up the Monopony board as Braeburn very quickly shoved an assortment of products that he had hoped to use (that were unsuitable for the eyes of a filly) into the drawers of the nightstand.
“You forgot a pair of hoofcuffs?” Sweetie pointed out. “Did you want to play cops and robbers later?”
Braeburn turned a shade of bright red befitting his name “No, no that’s okay. Lets just play Monopony,” he said quickly, shoving the last of his own toys and games out of view..
Sweetie Belle was confused as to why anypony wouldn’t want to play cops and robbers, but she just shrugged and turned her attention back to the game board.