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Zahirico1 t1_iy6aln9 wrote

Me : I challenge you to a game of truco richie macmoney R: What are you talking? That's not even a game .he can't do that!
Judge: You know the rules to be qualified as a game it need to exist for a period of time superior to 3 years and at least 1 million people need to know how to play. Choose another game. Me: well truco it's the most popular cars game in Argentina and is at least 50 years old. Here's is the wikipedia page of the game. Judge: Well this is unexpected but it indeed qualified as a valid game R:but that's not fair I don't even know how to play Judge: According to the rules you have 30 minutes to learn how to play and you are allow fo read them during the game if you forget something. R:Dont think you won just because I am not familiar with this truco. 30 minutes later Me: let's play richie! R: I'm gonna destroy you

ME *The thing is I never told riche that in truco cheating is legal. Well I can tell him after the game *

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WoodsTellsTales t1_iy6f113 wrote

“Absolutely not, I refuse. I will not be entertaining such frivolity, it’s beneath me.” He sneered as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

The man was the picture of snobbery. His nose twitched in defiance as his white pressed shirt was tucked within his grey slacks. His feet sported the latest loafers, some foreign leather I probably couldn’t pronounce. His face had one of those fake tans you had to pay for, and it highlighted the point on his nose.

I bent over to stretch the back of my hamstrings before giving my shoelaces a quick tug. They needed to be snug, we’d be running after all. “Now, now Jeffrey, no need to get all uppity.”

Jeffrey’s face went a shade of red. I could tell he was in a stiff debate internally, deciding whether to tell me to shove my challenge someplace unpleasant.

“You know the law, Jeffrey. If you decline, I don’t just get a small piece of your fortune, I get the whole thing.” I flashed him a smug smile knowing he was trapped.

Out of all the rich jerks to challenge, Jeffrey was my guy. He was a bit different from the others. Despite being born into money, I remembered Jeffrey as a child filled with laughter and eyes that lacked any form of prejudice.

My friend.

He was in there, and I was going to get him out.

Jeffrey gave a resigned sigh, “Very well. I accept your challenge.”

“Excellent.” One last tug on my laces and I was ready to go.

“But before I begin…” he gestured around him. “…what are we doing here?”

I slapped my friend on the shoulder. “Jeffrey my good man, this is where the game is.”

His dubious eyes took in the rundown street. Trash littered the sides, and the houses that still stood were rundown and synonymous with the poverty that plagued the area. The street had several large potholes and cracks. It lacked sidewalks and streetlights, but thankfully the sun had a few hours left.

I glanced down at Jeffrey’s loafers before raising my eyebrows, “You sure you want to play in those?”

“Yes, yes. Let’s just get on with it.” He waved me off.

We stared at each other in silence, eyes locked. We both seemed afraid that if we should blink, the other would gain an insurmountable advantage. The silence stretched on and I felt a smile tug at my lips.

Then, the rest of the players arrived.

Tag!” a small girl giggled. “You're it, Mr. Jeffrey!

The crowd of kids and I bolted, and laughter rang through the empty streets.

I looked back at my friend and saw his smile, the same childlike one from long ago, and I knew I had won.

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