“Hit me.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“I said hit me, damn it!  I know how to play blackjack!”

Daphne dealt me another card.

“I would like to say a few words please,” said the pot.  Daphne shushed him.

“Feeling confident?” she asked me.   

“Oh, I’m feeling more than confident,” I said.

“Is this really legal?” Murgatroyd piped up again.  

“That’s for the courts to decide,” said Daphne.  She eyed her cards.  Smirking a little, she laid them out on the table.  She had a twenty.  “How do you like that?  You’ll need a twenty-one to win the lad here.”   

“I must protest this!  Strongly!” said Murgatroyd.  

“I hope you like the taste of my moist, delicious vulva, because you are about to suck it,” I told her.  I laid down my cards.  Twenty one.

Daphne’s face went sour.  “Rats.”

“Welcome to the Chatterjee household,” I told Murgatroyd.  “You’ll have to excuse the mess.”

“It…you…we…”  Murgatroyd sputtered for a while.  Then his shoulders slumped   “Man, forget it.  Whatever.”

“Fetch my tiger skins, Lambkin.  They’re downstairs on the coffee table.”

“Fine.”

“And if we have time, I need you to refill the goblets with new blood.”  

“Sure.  Why not?”

“You don’t have a problem with that do you?”

He let out a sigh.  “Why would I?”