“Don’t think that means I can shapeshift or whatever,” he tells you, chuckling. “I’m no lycanthrope, no changeling.”

That’s a relief.

“I’m just here to play,” and he deals you two cards, one face up, one down. He peeks at his hidden card. Don’t bother with yours.

“Betting blind,” he says, “ballsy. Gonna hit myself.” He’s got twenty showing now. Your top card’s an ace. Don’t bother to look at your bottom card, you can’t change it now. Don’t–

“Oh, that’s poor practice,” frowns Alan Arkin, as the Nine of Spades chews off your hand.