(http://collider.com/wp-content/uploads/Colin-Farrell12.jpg)<br/><br/>The night before David McTaggert had had himself a wonderful night at poker. A lovely Englishman had lost his entire condo in downtown London to David in a single hand, and that wasn't even his best game of the night. Later that evening, he'd wandered into a game with a girl who looked like she was barely college age, and the girl had been doing very well when David sat down. Eventually the girl's stack had whittled down, down, down until she was practically at the felt, when she made one final hail mary play - she'd bet herself, to match the three hundred thousand dollars in the pot. David had glanced at the board, put her on a full house Queens over Kings, looked at his own cards, and gladly taken the bet. Sure enough, she was Queens over Kings, which sadly didn't hold up to David's four King hand. And he'd watched that girl, crestfallen, look down and almost start crying. He'd given her twenty-four hours to get her things together and show up at his condo, and then, just twelve hours later, he got the call - the girl wanted to go double-or-nothing, and she'd sent a picture of what, or rather, who, she wanted to stake. Never let it be said David wasn't a gambling man, and this certainly seemed too good to pass up, so he told her to show up with her friend that night, and they'd go again, but this time, they'd be playing in his condo, with a dealer from the casino floor to take care of the game until it wrapped up, and David would have his share on him, in cash. He'd heard the girl's voice pause a moment before she agreed.<br/><br/>His condo was the top four floors of the casino hotel tower, the kind of lavish home that most people only dreamed about. He sat at the poker table that he'd had put in the center of his living room before moving over to the bar off to the side of the massive space. Three or four couches, several lounge chairs... the place was swanky to say the very least. His black hair was slicked back, that goatee neatly trimmed, dressed in a black button up shirt and black silk slacks, that devilish smile widening a little bit as he sipped from his scotch that was older than his opponent and her friend combined, he imagined. They were due any minute. Win or lose, this would certainly be an evening to remember... and David McTaggert never played to lose.