Building somethings is hard. It takes time and effort, blood and sweat; sometimes a lifetime. Unlike the act of destruction."KAPOW!" Something that took a lifetime to create can be obliterated in a blink of an eye.

For Gates, his Big O'Tragedy, the destruction of his life, had left him devastated. Now, he was stuck trying build a new life and his new life was nothing but a world of pain. It drove him nuts. The more pain he felt, the more the world got to him. So he took pills to keep from killing someone.

The pills numbed him to a dead silence, made him a passionless tin-man. What's a life without passion? A death sentence.

Restless, he went out looking for a spark. Sometimes he'd wind up at Leon's Joint—a hole in the wall Go-Go Bar where the beer was cheap and the girls were easy. They also had great BBQ and the locals loved it. But most nights, Gates ended up at Las Vegas' dirty little secret...the Singrin.

* * *

Gates had gotten into the Singrin back when the doctors cut him off and the street drugs landed him in the hospital. Desperate for a fix, fate led him to Manny the limo driver, who knew just where to take him.

The Singrin was a private club that operated like a cult for the rich and powerful. Members were given a gold coin with a demonic form of Sock and Buskin (comedy and tragedy)—a horned sinister face on one side of the coin and a fanged grinning face on the other.

Manny had found a Singrin coin on a guy who'd died in his limo. He used it to sneak Gates in as rockstar Vince Van-Halen. Gates had the look; thin, strung out, and had the rock and roll hair. Manny had topped off the persona with a fashionable over-sized pair of woman's sunglasses and Vince Van-Halen was born. Gates looked as if he belonged on the cover of Rolling Stone.

The Singrin's atmosphere was electric. Beautiful naked women prowled the floors pulling men into the shadows. The lights of the casino drew others like moths to a flame. There was a poison for every saint and sinner. Gates found his, drugs aplenty, and all easy to get as walking into a Denny's and ordering a piece of pie.

Like the Sirens in Homer's Odyssey, the Singrin was a place of temptation that lead men to their downfall. Though Gates had only gone to the Singrin for drugs, he soon got caught up in a dangerous affair with Poker

Poker brought Gates back from the dead. A new life. Gave him the spark he'd been looking for. It was like police work. A table full of suspects all hiding behind a wall of cards and in the end, the winner was either the one who solved the case or got away with the crime.

When Gates started playing, he was literally giving his money away. He was so doped up, he wasn't conscious of what he was doing. On one occasion, Gates didn't take his pain pills. He played in pain and to his surprise...he won.

He later realized there was a connection between winning and his pain. At times, he could practically see what cards he would get. It was a jinx. A gift, but like the Monkey's Paw, the gift came with a price.

The day after he couldn't move and felt he was being cut by a thousand razor blades. Pills didn't work. Neither did morphine. He'd regressed back to his first days at the hotel where all he did was sit on the balcony and watch the world go by.

Gates thought about how they used to call him Little Skywalker at the Las Vegas Police Department because of his ability to solve cases with a hunch. There was a term for it, clairvoyance. What he had back then was enough to solve cases. What he had now, with his pain, let him sense the cards before they got into his hands. A phenomenon. A life changer.

Gates realized this was his chance to get his revenge on LIFE for all the misery it had put him through, for the destruction of what he loved. He'd been a straight arrow all his life, but LIFE is not won by straight arrows, that's why he'd lost.

Now he had leverage. He had power. The gift gave him the power to win. To beat life. To get his due and win the World Poker Tournament and the eight million dollar prize. He was no longer going to be at the mercy of LIFE.

* * *

Gates took to figuring out the gift. He visited every casino from Las Vegas to Reno. He'd even visited a Medicine Man in Arizona. He blew through his money and borrowed from loan sharks. Nine months later and fifty thousand in debt, and a couple marks on his life, Gates thought he'd figured out the gift and his final test was waiting at the Singrin.

Ivan Smirnoff was not only a notorious mobster who snapped men's necks with one hand, and the owner of the Singrin, but he was also a World Poker Champion, five years, now retired. If Gates could beat Ivan then he'd know he could win the Poker Tournament. He also needed a hundred grand to enter the tournament so he'd use the winnings from the Singrin.

* * *

So Gates went to play Ivan to test the gift. He'd discovered painkillers (downers) killed his powers while cocaine (uppers) enhanced it, though using coke gave him the shakes and nose bleeds. But with Ivan, he wasn't taking any chances.

It didn't take long before Gates had a great big wall of chips in front of him. He knew if he wanted to get to Ivan, he needed a commotion. The big man hid like a spider, but was always watching.

Gates continued to win and he was in pain. He wanted his pain pills desperately, but knew he needed pain to keep his powers going. He was drenched in sweat and his hands trembled. He looked like a junkie going through withdrawal, but to Ringo, the pit-boss at the Singrin, Gates looked like a cheat.

* * *

Ringo could smell a cheat a mile away. He watched Gates like a snake watching a mouse. Gates saw Ringo looking at him and cringed. He had not planned for Ringo and from what he'd heard about him, it was best to just avoid him.

Ringo reeked of Eurotrash elegance and had an arrogance he passed off as sophistication. With a pointed nose and bulging eyes, his appearance was disturbing. Though he wasn't very formidable, at five foot-seven, Ringo was a real mad-hatter and got pleasure from inflicting pain.

A crowd had gathered around Gates. Each time he won they raved with excitement. Every three or four hands, a new dealer took over and the crowd cheered and laughed. It was comical.

Gates wondered how long he had to keep going. He couldn't keep winning without doing some serious damage. A migraine was already setting in. Using the gift, it was best to go in for a quick kill. Long dragged out games took their toll and the side effects got worse.

The crowd around Gates murmured and a wave of excitement rose through the casino. Everyone turned their heads to the back of the room. Gates looked back, curious to what was happening. Then he sighed in relief, as his fears were extinguished when out from the shadows Ivan Smirnoff appeared.

Ivan Smirnoff came into the light. The people in the casino cheered as if they were seeing movie star. Ivan was a big fella, standing at six-five, and had large sledge hammer hands with gold rings on each finger. A big Rolex decorated his arm like a hood ornament and around his neck was a medallion of a bull.

Gates saw Ivan coming and felt a rush of fear. The man was monstrous. He could see why they called him Ivan the Terrible.

"Yo, Ivan, my man," said Gates, and he put up his hand for a hi-five. "Don't leave me hanging, bro." But Ivan did.

"What's your name, comrade," Ivan said, with a Russian accent.

"The guest list says he's Vince Van-Halen, but he's a fake," said Ringo.

"The name's Gates, no first name, no last name, just Gates."

"Game over, Mr. Gates. Time for you to leave," said Ivan.

"You can't be serious. I can't leave now, I'm on the best streak of my life."

"Adios, cowboy," said Ringo, and he pulled Gates out of his seat.

"Take it easy, Igor," said Gates, pushing Ringo back.

"The name is Ringo you idiot."

"Ringo, Dingo, what's the difference. It's all French to me," said Gates. "Ivan, baby, I'm really not feeling the love here. This isn't the VIP treatment I read about in the brochure. I'm gonna have to give this place a bad review."

The whole casino had stopped. All eyes were on Gates and Ivan and Gates was aware of the eyes. He was counting on them. He was going to play to the court of public opinion. If he couldn't sway Ivan to play him then maybe the hundreds of people watching could. Gates downed a Scotch then proceeded to spin his web.

"Time for you to leave, Mr. Gates," said Ivan.

"Fine, but before I go, Ivan, answer me this...are you a King or a Thief," said Gates.

"What?" said Ivan.

"Poker is game of kings and thieves. Kings play for glory. Thieves play for money. You don't look like you need money, Ivan. You look like a man who plays to be the best. But to be the best, you have to play the best. Ivan, baby...I'm your greatest opponent. I'm your white whale. You kick me out of here and you'll miss the best opportunity of your life. You think I'm cheating, but I'm not. I'm just that good. I'm giving you a chance to see if you really are the greatest poker player in the world," said Gates.

"Nyet, I'm already the best. I'm the World Champion for five years," said Ivan.

"Yeah, but was it real? I saw the tapes. You swept through them like a hurricane. Ran over them like a bull. It was too easy. I'm not saying it was rigged, I'm saying they were not at your level. You're a true competitor, Ivan, and deep inside I know you seek the perfect rival to test how good you really are. I'm giving you that chance at real glory, not bullshit trophies on the mantle. Let's play, Ivan. You and me. Mano-a-Mano," said Gates.

The room was quiet. Everyone was in suspense. Gates saw he had captivated the crowd.

"What's everybody think about that? Everyone wanna see me and Ivan play?" said Gates.

The crowd in the casino cheered the idea and even Ivan looked as if he'd been sold.

"Don't listen to him, Ivan," said Ringo. "He's a fool. I checked his account. He buys drugs here every week. He's a junkie."

"I don't deny it. I have a pain management problem that I take many, many, many pills for. Most days, I'm high as a kite but not today. Today, I'm suffering and I did it just for you, Ivan. So I can be at my best. Don't let this once in lifetime chance get away," said Gates.

"Nyet!" said Ivan. "Nice speech. You could sell cars with your mouth but I know a con-man when I see one. I didn't win all those poker tournaments because I was a soft minded fool. I can bullshit better than anyone. Now let's go."

Ringo pulled Gates out of his chair and a couple of security guards walked him to the back of the casino. Gates saw a door. It was a door to somewhere and if he went in, he knew he was never coming out. Gates broke free from security then like a lunatic, he charged Ivan.

He rammed the large man but bounced off like rock hitting a wall. Ivan was as solid as a bag of cement. Gates punched him several times, but it didn't even phase him. Ivan laughed and picked Gates up by the neck. Gates dangled in the air, trying to pry Ivan's iron grip.

"You are the fly and I am the spider," said Ivan, and squeezed Gates' neck.

"You kill me, Ivan, and you're done. I know what you are (a killer), but those people out there, don't have a clue. You know what kind of people they are, and if they see you're a monster, goodbye Singrin. You won't even be able to turn this place into a car wash. Just remember, Ivan, they're watching. Maybe the cops can't shut you down, but they can," said Gates.

Ivan looked around and saw the crowd watching, with their judging eyes, and he put Gates down.

"Let me kill him, Ivan, he talks too much," said Ringo.

"No, he's right," said Ivan. "These people live in a bubble allergic to reality. A tiny spec of truth and they'd run from this place like it was a contagious disease. You may prove to be a worthy adversary, Mr. Gates. After all, you planned all this. I'm sure this is all going to according to your plan. Or maybe not, eh? Was this your last hand? You played it well. Ah, when a man has everything, what's left? Sport. True competition. Something real. If you are half as good as you say, then it will be a true battle of...kings. King or Thief? You have a way with words. Alright, we play but my terms."

"I'm listening," said Gates.

"You win you live...you lose you die. Maybe you don't die today, but we find you," said Ivan.

"Fair enough," said Gates. It was the best offer he was going to get.