Badly

Three minutes to play with if she won. Two chances to not pull a low card and have to endure another round of Alma beating on her. She'd only lost her sneakers and socks, but it could get so much worse. Surviving three minutes could be catastrophic after everything that had happened thus far.

"I'll pick first," said Imogen.

She reached toward the deck and pulled the top card. Her luck had finally turned for the better. Out came the two. The card that would have damned her she'd managed to hit on a free pick. She let out a sigh of relief as she threw it down next to the main deck.

Alma narrowed her eyes. The wheels were turning in her head. She shouldn't have offered that deal. Already, she would have been guaranteed another three minutes to continue her punishment and humiliation of Imogen. Slow and steady, she was loving it.

She snatched a card from the top of the deck, knowing Imogen would then have the opportunity to beat it. Alma turned it over between her fingers. The six of diamonds stared back at her. Alma tried not to let her nerves show. It was a low card. Nearly everything could beat it. This could mean trouble.

Imogen's heart raced. This was her chance. Alma had finally pulled out a low card and discarded one from the deck. It was finally time to get some revenge on the redhead after not getting a single hit on her.

She picked another card off the deck and brought it to her in a flash, not daring to look at it immediately, or show it to Alma. Imogen hoped to draw this out for as long as possible to allow the realization to sink in for her opponent. Turning the card over so they could both see it. Two cards, and she found herself now looking at the five of clubs.

Alma burst out laughing, one more of relief than malice. That was Imogen's best chance, and she'd blown it. The three minutes were hers.

"Oh, you're in so much trouble," Alma crowed.