RumpleTiltSkin

They felt poor, oh so poor, Joseph Miller and his daughter
It's no fun getting funds pestering people through phones
She spent four years in dorms - biggest gift he ever bought her
In return all that they earned seemed to go to student loans

She would smile sorting files at her mindless occupation
Inside she cried and would've liked a stiff drink
She hoped for a promotion so she'd use her education
That was not what she got, her paper was pink

She got fired, things were dire, what were they to do?
They looked on Craigslist (Yes, that desperate) for a financial guru
All promised maximum funds - one had minimum spin
It was written by a little man called Rumpletiltskin

He said when one is ready to get out of debt
Stay far from the market - that's not a safe bet
And it is less of a gamble by far
To be a Full Tilter or a Pokerstar

But he didn't suggest that anyone ought
To gamble online without being taught
How to make a buck become at least two
And teaching is what he offered to do

She said she had no funds with which to pay
He replied that's no surprise and that's okay
She just had to say that she'd give him the mon-
Ey that she earned from her first tourney won

He taught her patience for the poker grind
Helped her see how to handle the blinds
Taught her the odds for hands of all kinds
Not just handling cards, but playing with minds

Then she spun a few tales - she majored in writing
After six tries she sold one, that was exciting
Since the publication of her literary voice
Let her make a deposit at the site of her choice

She dove in and strove to apply what she'd learned
A little dough was lost and a little more was earned
Low limit games with a conservative style
Meant she would not make much for a while

But the style she chose was the right one to choose
She was in it to win not for fun on a cruise
No retries, no re-buys, not much she could lose
The bigger the risk, the bigger the bruise

She took some blows and losses started to mount
Half the funds gone from her poker account
Up against slow-played aces she hit quads with her jack
And so she doubled her stack and she didn't look back

Next few weeks brought bad beats but most of those hardly dented
Her account but her wins were big so her bankroll was augmented
Unable to hop clubs by night she hoped for clubs by day
Until she'd earned enough to attempt tournament play

Sometimes bad luck made her bust out quite soon
She would start at eleven and be done before noon
But when she reached final tables with a chip lead
She would choose to lose - success led to greed

But she didn't need to tank more - so she thought
Because if she won, how would she be caught?
So she tried a hundred percent, and her first victory meant
That she got a free ride to poker's main event

It was a dream come true, she felt ten feet tall
Then her phone said unknown number so she ignored the call
The message left was short but it wasn't so sweet
It said she made a deal and could not keep her seat

She picked up the phone she was tempted to smash
And screamed at her teacher that she hadn't won cash
He said that it is no matter - "a win is a win
The seat has worth and thus belongs to Rumpletiltskin".

But she wouldn't give up, her tone became frantic
They argued the law and they argued semantics
Each showed steel resolve that was not gonna melt
At last they opted to settle the spat on the felt

Not a normal game since someone could suck
Out on the river and win just from luck
But she could re-claim the seat for her own
By guessing his hole cards before they were shown

The game was heads up hold 'em - no bust outs, just rebuys
As for guessing his hole cards, she'd only get three tries
She needed to make at least one guess per day
There were limits to how long Rumple could stay

On the third hand the small man made ample re-raises
So she made her first guess, and it was "pocket aces"
Then he laughed and guffawed, almost crashed on the floor
Then turned over his cards, showed a jack and a four

The second try came after an hour has passed
When they both got their cards, Rumple mucked them quite fast
She felt by this time she was onto his tricks
And guessed aces again, but he showed her eight six

The clock tocked and ticked as she got her butt kicked,
It was hard not to assume
That the odds of a guess being right were much less
Than that of kings using a broom
Her hard-earned online pay was swept away
As our heroine could not help but lose
The small man kept grinning and spending his winnings
At the hotel bar drinking booze

And as he was drunk, she passed him on his cell
Laughing to a friend about a tell
Which he believed she'd never guess
And what she heard Rumple confess

Was that when eights were what he happened to hold
Rumple would shiver slightly, as if it was cold
But if not looked for it would be hard to detect
So the tournament seat seemed quite safe to expect

Hours later, play was painful, she was once again short-stacked
But during the betting she detected a tremor and decided to act
With no better option to avoid defeat
She guessed pocket eights and won back her seat