[she almost starts laughing before she remembers the prohibition against sound. as it stands, she muffles her face in her shoulder, the jumpsuit's soft fabric absorbing the noise but not her grin.]

fuck you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Jan pays up her lint promptly, then offers Frank the cards so he can deal the next hand. she's no welch or quitter. he's going to be very rich in jumpsuit fibers at this rate -- perhaps he can knit himself socks with them, or something.]

your turn. dont think this is over

[she wonders what game he plays. more five-card? Texas hold'em?]