Rockman looked down at pocket 8’s—the snowmen. Nothing too flashy, but they’ve been known to cause a blizzard or two.
Across the table, Keystoned picked up pocket Queens. You could almost hear the royal trumpets. Confident raise pre-flop, naturally. Rockman just called, nice and casual.
Then came the flop: 8 – 8 – K.
Rockman didn’t just hit—it was like he bought the mountain, the lodge, and the ski lift all in one card flip. Quads, baby. The avalanche had begun.
Keystoned. meanwhile, was in dreamland. Those Queens looked like they were about to waltz straight to victory. He kept firing chips into the pot, certain he was ahead.
Rockman? Stone cold. Just flat calling, like he was ordering another round of wings.
By the river, Keystoned was already rehearsing his winner’s speech. Then Rockman turned over the snowmen, now upgraded to a demolition crew of quads.
The table erupted. Poor Keystoned's Queens went from royal to ruin in about half a second.
Moral of the hand? Against Rockman’s snowmen, sometimes the crown gets buried in the avalanche.
