Chapter 11: The One with the Poker Game
Place Change: Monica's Apartment, January 10, 1995 (POV: Joey Tribbiani)
The air in Monica's apartment was thick with a nervous, competitive energy, a strange blend of Monica's intense need for perfection and the group's general flailing. Joey Tribbiani, however, felt none of this. He was in his element. He was a master of his domain. He was a poker savant. He was… "Joey the Slicer."
He stood at the head of the table, his chest puffed out, a deck of cards in his hands. He fanned them with a flair that was more about showmanship than skill, a magician who only knew one trick: dramatic presentation.
"Alright, everybody, listen up," he announced, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that was meant to be intimidating but mostly just sounded like he had a sore throat. "Tonight, you are not playing against Joey. You are playing against 'Joey the Slicer.' And I'm warning you now, I slice my opponents with a calm, surgical precision that you have never seen. I'm like a doctor, but for poker. A… poker-doctor. I see your weaknesses. I see your tells. When you have a good hand, you breathe in through your nose, a little puff of air. When you're bluffing, you blink. Twice. Everyone knows that. Except you, because I just told you." He punctuated the last sentence with a wink and a dramatic flourish of his hands, which somehow resulted in him dropping one of the cards on the floor. He quickly scooped it up and pretended it never happened.
"'Joey the Slicer.' Yeah, that's a good name. It sounds tough. Like a butcher. Or a guy who just really likes to slice things. The butt-double thing didn't work out, but this poker thing… this is my thing. This is where I'll make my money. My candy chip money. I'm gonna buy so much candy with these. A whole store full of candy. And I'll get to eat all of it. Except for the ones with coconut. Those are gross. Gross and chewy. I'm gonna make so much money, I'll be able to eat pizza for every meal. And not just pizza. Expensive pizza. With fancy toppings. Like… like… extra pepperoni! Yeah!"
Across the table, Monica, however, was not amused. She was in a state of high-strung, culinary and competitive bliss. She was arranging the poker chips in perfectly symmetrical stacks, a ruler laid out on the table to ensure each stack was exactly the same height. She then took a small, lint-free cloth and meticulously wiped down the poker table, even though it had just been cleaned five minutes ago.
"It's 'Joey the Slicer' because you always slice your sandwiches in half, Joey," she said, not looking up from her task. "And Ross, you are not touching these chips until your hands have been sanitized. I don't know where those hands have been, and I don't want their germs on my chips. I spent a very long time organizing these by color and size, and I will not have them desecrated by your… paleontological filth."
Ross, who was nervously fiddling with a coaster, just sighed. "Monica, it's not 'filth.' It's… it's history. It's the dust of ages. It's the residue of a world long gone. And I'm just trying to… play poker. With my friends. My friends who are being weird about poker."
Adam, meanwhile, was in a corner, a small, knowing smirk on his face. He had a plan. He had a System-driven plan. "Alright, Mr. Omniscient Dating System. Poker night. A casual meetup with a lot of pressure. How do I charm Monica Bellucci at a casual meetup? A woman of her stature probably doesn't just hang out at Central Perk."
[SYSTEM: MEET MONICA BELLUCCI AT A BOOKSTORE, JANUARY 10, 1995. DISCUSS HER FAVORITE NOVEL.]
A quiet, confident smile spread across Adam's face. "A bookstore. Perfect. A little bit of intellectualism, a little bit of charm, a little bit of… a prank." He then discreetly reached over and, in one smooth motion, swapped Monica's neat stacks of poker chips with a bag of multi-colored, fruit-flavored gummy bears. He then grinned, waiting for the chaos.
"Okay, everyone," Monica said, grabbing her stack of chips. "Let's begin the game of… hey! What is this?! Adam! These are… these are gummy bears! These are not poker chips! These are… an abomination! They're sticky! They're gummy! They're… they're going to get all over my table! My perfectly clean, perfectly sanitized table!"
The group, of course, was in hysterics. Even Ross, who was moping, had to stifle a laugh. Chandler, meanwhile, was just shaking his head, a long, sarcastic sigh escaping his lips. "Oh, look, a prank. I haven't seen one of those since… well, since Adam put decaf in Monica's coffee beans. This is… this is groundbreaking. This is a game-changer. I'm going to go call my mom and tell her about this. She's going to be so proud."
Rachel, however, was in a full-blown panic. She was getting ready for a job interview. She was frantically rummaging through her purse, her hands trembling. "I can't do this," she stammered, her voice high and tight. "I can't do this. My resume is all wrong, my outfit is all wrong, and I'm going to make a fool of myself. I'm going to go in there and they're going to be like, 'So, what are your qualifications?' and I'm going to be like, 'I'm really good at making coffee.' And then they're going to laugh at me! They're going to laugh at me and then they're going to hire a man! A man who is not good at making coffee!"
The group just looked at her with a mixture of concern and amusement. Ross, meanwhile, just sulked. "You'll do great, Rachel. You'll do great. But you know, it's not really a job, it's a… a career. A real job. A job that a man would do. And I know a lot about… jobs. I know a lot about… everything. So if you need any advice, just ask me. I'm an expert on everything."
Place Change: Central Perk, January 10, 1995 (POV: Monica Geller)
The air in Central Perk was a chaotic symphony of coffee grinders, clinking mugs, and the frantic, high-pitched whining of Rachel Green. Monica, still fuming from the gummy bear incident, sat on the orange couch, clutching a mug of coffee as if it were a life raft in a sea of despair. She was trying to listen to Rachel's panicked monologue, but her mind kept drifting back to Adam. The gummy bears. The smug smirk. The utter audacity.
"How dare he? How DARE he? I spent an hour arranging those chips. An HOUR. And he just… he just swapped them out with gummy bears! Gummy bears! They're sticky, they're messy, they're… they're unorganized! He thinks he's so clever. He thinks he's so funny. Well, I'll show him. I'll show him what a real prank looks like. I'll show him what it means to mess with Monica Geller. I'm a master of revenge. A master of… organization. And I'm going to organize his life into a series of horrible, terrible pranks. And he's not going to see it coming."
Rachel, meanwhile, was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack. "I just… I just don't know what to say! What if they ask me about… fashion? What if they ask me about… fabric? What if they ask me about… the difference between a high-waisted pant and a… a regular-waisted pant? I don't know! I don't know the difference! I just wear the pants! I just… wear them!" Rachel's voice was high and tight, and she was gesticulating wildly, almost knocking over a small pile of muffins on the counter.
Phoebe, ever the eccentric, offered her support in the only way she knew how. "Rachel, don't worry about it. Just think of the job interview as a performance. You are the star of your own play! And the director, he's not really a director, he's a… a magical unicorn. And he's going to give you a job because you have a beautiful soul! And… and you're wearing a beautiful dress! A beautiful, beautiful dress!" Phoebe then took a deep breath and looked Rachel in the eye. "And if he asks you about the pants, just tell him that the pants are a metaphor for the human condition. The high-waisted pants are a metaphor for our dreams. The regular-waisted pants are a metaphor for our… our legs. Our very, very regular legs."
Across the couch, Chandler was in the middle of a long, sarcastic monologue, aimed directly at Joey, who was still boasting about his poker skills. "'Joey the Slicer.' That's what they call you, huh? That's what they call you because you slice your sandwiches. You know what they call me? They call me 'Chandler the Wit.' Because I am witty. I'm so witty, I can make a joke about you being 'Joey the Slicer' for at least five minutes straight. And I'm not even done yet. So, I have a new nickname for you. I'm going to call you 'Joey the Loser.' Because you're going to lose all of your gummy bears to Monica the Magnificent."
Joey just looked at him, his face a mask of simple confusion. "What? But I'm 'Joey the Slicer.' You just said that."
Adam, meanwhile, was sharing his bookstore plan with the group. "Wait, hold on a second. System, I have a new question. What's the optimal time for the bookstore meetup? I don't want to seem too eager."
[SYSTEM: OPTIMAL TIME IS 4:00 PM. MONICA BELLUCCI WILL BE BROWZING THE FICTION SECTION.]
"I'm meeting a friend at a bookstore," Adam said, a casual shrug of his shoulders. "She's got a new project, and I just want to talk about her favorite book."
Chandler, ever the mocker, just shook his head. "A bookstore? Adam, you're not a book guy. You're a… a prank guy. You're a guy who puts gummy bears in other people's poker chips. You're not a guy who reads books. The only book you've ever read is a comic book. A comic book about a guy who has a dating system."
Just then, Rachel, who had been listening intently, just stuttered, "M-M-M-Monica Bellucci? Y-you're meeting M-M-M-Monica Bellucci? The supermodel? The actress? The… the goddess?! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" She then, of course, spilled her coffee all over herself, which was a fitting end to a very, very chaotic scene.
Time Change: Later at Monica's Apartment, January 10, 1995 (POV: Joey Tribbiani)
The game of poker was in full swing, and Monica was smug. She had her own deck of cards, a deck of cards that she had rigged with the precision of a master thief. Every hand, she had a royal flush. Every hand, she won. Every hand, she just smirked. Her pile of gummy bears—which she had reluctantly accepted as the new chips—was a towering mountain of victory.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "I'm just… really good at poker. I'm a poker savant. They call me… 'Monica the Magnificent.' Because I'm magnificent at poker! And I'm winning all of your gummy bears! I'm going to eat them all! I'm going to eat them all and then I'm going to have a tummy ache and then I'm going to get revenge on Adam!"
Ross, meanwhile, was still sulking. He was losing all of his gummy bears, and he was taking it very personally. He was also taking it as a sign that he was a failure. A failure at poker, a failure at love, a failure at… life. "You know, Rachel's job is just… a job. It's not a career. It's not a real job. It's a… a stepping stone. A stepping stone to… a real job. A job where you don't have to… sell things. A job where you don't have to… talk to people. A job where you can just… sit in a dark room and look at bones. And then you can get a career. A real career. A man's career."
Joey, meanwhile, was in a full-blown panic. He had been bluffing the entire game, and he had lost all of his gummy bears. He was just sitting there, staring at the empty space in front of him, his face a mask of simple confusion. "I'm a failure! I'm a terrible poker player! I'm a terrible butt double! I'm a… I'm a terrible friend!"
Adam, meanwhile, just sat back and watched, a small, amused smile on his face. He had a plan. A System-driven plan. He was going to meet Monica Bellucci. He was going to charm her with his book talk. He was going to be a new man. And Monica… she was going to be so mad. So very, very mad.
Place Change: Central Perk a few days later, January 12, 1995 (POV: Adam Stields)
The hustle and bustle of Central Perk was a familiar comfort to Adam, a place where he could sit back, a coffee in hand, and observe the beautiful chaos that was his new life. He was a man who was used to the quiet life of a transmigrated actor, but he was quickly learning to love the loud, beautiful chaos of his new friends. And he had a new plan. A new System-driven plan.
"Alright, Mr. Omniscient Dating System. I did it. I met Monica Bellucci. I charmed her with my book talk. I was a master of charm. A master of… intellectualism. A master of… everything. Now what? What's the next step? I need to keep the momentum going. I need to keep the charm flowing. I need a new plan. A new, grand, romantic gesture."
[SYSTEM: PLAN A DATE WITH MONICA BELLUCCI. TAKE HER TO A FANCY RESTAURANT, FEBRUARY 14, 1995.]
Adam smiled to himself. "Valentine's Day. Perfect. A romantic date. A fancy restaurant. A little bit of romance, a little bit of… a prank. Monica is going to be so mad. So very, very mad." He then discreetly reached over and, in one smooth motion, swapped Monica's sugar with salt. He then grinned, waiting for the chaos.
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