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The Arsenal Files 8
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The Arsenal Files Collection #8 (Arsenal Computer) (1996).ISO
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rubyv60.zip
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RUBY60-9
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1996-08-31
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4KB
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77 lines
Copyright 1996 (c)
IT IS BETTER TO SNOOKER, THAN BE ONE
A Ruby D. Begonia Pearl
From the Gimp it and veep series
"What color are the leaves this year?"
"What color were the leaves last year?"
"It's a bore." --From GiGi
"Deal the cards," the losers were hollering.
Ruby sashayed into the room, approaching the hanging lamp over
the green baize of the table. She came into the light slowly so
that at first the players thought the green caste was a lighting
reflection. As her image defined, they saw she really *was* wearing
chartreuse fishnets.
The clear plastic living-fish-filled globes of her stiletto
heels echoed eerily. First, they saw shoes with fish, then
chartreuse fishnets encasing rather shapely legs, then a silver
leather mini-skirt and a silver sequin boustierre, bare shoulders
rising therefrom. Her collarbones sounded painfully hollow when
thunked by the drop dangle ornaments at the end of her pierced
earchains. The ornaments looked suspiciously like Harley parts.
"Hi, boys," she drawled MaeWestishly. "Anybody got a banana?"
"This ain't no fruit bowl party, doll," said the campaign
manager.
"This is a rather specialized grouping, Miss, uh--" began the
advance P.R.man.
"Miss, uh, Begonia, but you can drop the 'uh'," said Ruby.
"Ruby D. Begonia. The D's for Delilah. Sometimes people think I'm
Della Street, but I'm not," she said.
"Oh, goodie," she said, rubbing her hands together. "Let's
play snooker." Snooker was Ruby's religion. That and Tu-Tu.
"And what are you doing here?" asked the candidate.
"I thought we'd play a little five-card draw," Ruby said,
indicating her deck of cards.
"We don't play cards with ladies," said the P.R. man.
"I'm no lady," said Ruby. "You should fasten your seatbelt,
it's gonna be a bumpy night."
Ruby cleaned up in the card game and the campaign manager
later looked perplexed. He held a mini-computer with which he did
calculations, and every once in a while he murmured something like
"that's not possible." Ruby cashed in her chips and looked at the
candidate.
"I'll be bach," she drawled, "for double or nothin. We'll
decide this political race like sportsmen, right here at the card
table."
"You expect to elect the next President by playing cards?"
asked the campaign manager, shocked.
"Why not?" said Ruby. "Look-it, Del's grandaddy said it's like
boys--you put 'em in a bag and shake 'em up, and whatever comes
out's fine. There ain't no difference in 'em," said Ruby. "No
difference in boys, or husbands, or bosses, for sure."
"But this is the President of this country," said the P.R.
man, clearly as shocked as the campaign manager. "The President!"
he repeated, as though Ruby were as dense as her unconcerned
expression indicated. "He has power. He can declare war."
"Nah, somebody's always watchin' him," said Ruby, waving her
hand dismissively. "I'm a'betcha he don't even go to the john alone.
The President can't do squat without somebody making a fuss, and
sometimes, when they make a big stink, he don't get to do it at
all.
"So what do you say, boys?" she asked. "Double or nothin next
time?"
"Yes," said a heretofore silent Republican.
The others looked at him in wide-mouthed wonder. Ruby nodded
and turned on her heel and departed.
"Pardon me, sir, but are you nuts?" the P.R. man asked the
gentleman who'd agreed to Ruby's terms. "Now you're gonna play
cards for the job?"
"Hey, I shuffle-stepped that abortion issue and I got the
next-best running mate after Colin Powell passed. I'll wear the
clown nose if I have to," said the candidate. "But check on that
bathroom thing, will you?"
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