Hey, Arlie. Poker Gods here.
How you been? The swelling on that eye gone down a little bit? Any post-traumatic stress from wrestling in the dirt with Chris Moneymaker? Do you still smell like Reno? Enquiring Poker God minds wanna know, dude.
Regardless, I bet you thought we forgot about you and decided to make this whole thing a seven-step challenge. We have one word for you.
Or, to be more precise…neigh.
Listen, man, we’ll be straight with you. We sort of felt like it was a bad decision to put you in an athletic contest against a man like Moneymaker. Slappy, the kindest of the Poker Gods here at Poker God HQ, even suggested we were being cruel. (NB: Slappy has to wash the dishes the rest of this week as punishment for acting like a Poker Mortal. Those are the rules).
It’s time for you to get back in the saddle, kiddo.
You remember ol’ Hercules right? Strong guy? Great physique? Sometimes complained a little much about how much he had to work? Yeah, well, when he got to his eighth labour, he was in for a real treat. I mean, the dude had already cleaned out the stables long ago. Now he had to capture the Mares of Diomedes. These were some bad-ass horses. Some folks say they breathed fire.
Seriously, man. Bad ass horses. It’s a thing.
So, once we got Slappy on the dinner dishes we decided you need to do the same thing. And, broham, you need to do it quickly…or as our Poker God daddies used to say…ya need to get on your horse, son.
If you look out there in your normal poker pasture, you’ll find 12 horses wandering around every freaking day. There’s a big one every week that shows up and struts around like, “Look at me…I’m a BIG horse!”
We don’t care which one you capture. Just get one of them. That’s all we ask. Capture one in five days, and we’ll call this labour complete.
Oh, and, man…we saw how you freaking ravaged Moneymaker, so we’ll make this clear: you don’t have to kill the horse. You just have to capture it. Got that? Bring it into your arms, cuddle with it, tell it you love it, and ask it for…hell, we don’t know? Maybe a little more than it cost you to get to the pasture in the first place.
Good enough? Cool. Get to it then. And again. You’ve got five days. Get to it, son. Get on that horse and ride, ride, ride.
And, hell, why not? If you just can’t do it on your own, we’ll see if we can get one of the crew around here to help you out.
But not Slappy. That guy has dishes to do.