"How are you so bloody good at poker?" I complained, sliding my pieces to Holmes' side of the table. Fortunately, we had settled on rocks representing our bids, not actual money, or I would be well on my way to destitute.
He smirked. "It goes with my profession, my dear Watson. You need to work on your tics. Are you ready to withdraw?"
"Oh, no. We're snowed in, and before we're shoveled out, I intend to win back my rocks. The game is afoot."
Holmes smiled and lay down his three kings.
"Snowed in"-from ME!