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Stories from 12 years of Casino Industry
I was asked to make a post about some stories within the Casino grounds so I thought I'd share. I have many so I'll do my best to pick the better ones. Some back information: I've been a Casino Dealer for 11 years, I've been a supervisor for five years, and I've been a Surveillance Operator for one year. I've worked at three properties, none of which are connected or owned by the same company. I've worked on : Government/Private/Native American owned casinos.
From Hero to Zero.
At my first Casino, I was one of the first group of people who were trained to deal Roulette . After 4 weeks of working 6PM-3AM then doing roulette training from 3AM-8AM (Not paid) , I actually really enjoyed the game and after about six months I became extremely quick at the number game and the pace of the action was steady with very low margin of errors. Young man walks in, cashes in for $500. He buys in for $2 chips and just loads the board. After a few spins and pretty decent hits, he then changes his chips from $2 to 5$ then to $10 and racks his winnings up to $10,000. It was then, five spins in a row, he loaded the board with some pretty gross bets, and every spin I would hit the ONE number with either NO CHIPS on it, or maybe 1 chip , He lost all $10,000 in a matter of minutes. He leaves , and I go on break. After my break I was going back to the same table and wouldn't you know it, the same young man walks in and cashes in another $500. He tells me he just sold his car outside and this is all that he had left. So we do the same deal, buys in for $2 chips, then slowly starts betting $5 chips, $10, $25...and he makes $10,000 AGAIN. Within the next 25 minutes it was straight agony. Every spin, same thing, he would bet $2500 in chips, and win only $250, $400, and after about a half hour he lost it all . Never saw the guy again. 2) Man down At this property, we are 24 hours for table games. It's currently 5AM , and I'm dealing some $25 Blackjack to this guy. He's probably early thirties , heavy guy. He's sober as can be, but right away I can tell he's been losing. We know how much you've bought in for, how much your down, or up, and I could see he was down $2000+. After about twenty minutes of pure losing, his temper starts to flare.At this point I now have two other guests at my table. Drinking coffee, not saying a word, just losing their money. After losing hand, after hand, this guy looks me straight in the eye, seized up, starts shaking, he can't move. He tries to punch towards me and smashes his stack of chips all over the place and falls backwards to the floor. I call for security, we cannot touch him due to liability . I can't move from my table because, well, liability / casino cash property, all I can do is try to talk to him. As I'm doing so, these other two woman who are sitting at my table just look at me and one says "OK, dealer, cmon lets go " as she taps the table telling me to start dealing and forget about the guy having a stroke on the floor. As security takes him to the ambulance out front, I had to stay behind for a couple minutes and give a statement. I go on break. I come back, and 45 minutes later, he comes right back in with a oxygen tank and keeps gambling for the remainder of the morning. 3) You get a dildo, and YOU get a dildo! On a late summer Saturday night, we had a large event for these massive muscle guys/strongman competition type thing. After their show, I'm at the roulette table , and five of these boys come over to play. They were absolutely hilarious. They were feeling pretty good, cashed in somewhat large amounts and I could tell this was going to be a fun time. After about a hour of dealing to these guys, it's almost midnight, everybody is pretty hammered , I spin the ball, and all five of these guys take out these god damn (what I can only tell was) two feet purple dildos from inside their pants, and wiping them around in the air. The ladies were just loving it, one of the dildos landed in the roulette wheel and we had to shut the table down to re-calibrate the wheel to make sure nothing had been changed. I just remember that night was so much damn fun, I couldn't believe what I was seeing and I would never forget it. 4) Full Moon On this day, I was actually training dealers / supervising them on small games like Three Card poker. We opened the table at 10AM, and this older man came and sat down . He played all day. The jackpot was $21,000 and that was pretty high for this table. He played, and played and played. He's one of the players where you know he's wearing a diaper because he's been drinking coffee/pop all day and hasn't moved in eight hours. As the day went on, this man never moved from his chair. Getting closer to midnight, he was aggravated and said "I need to go have a smoke, I'm getting killed in here". He left, and the very next hand, the lady beside him was dealt the jackpot . He didn't say much, but you could just tell he just hated life at that very moment because had he not gotten up, it would of been his hand. The man calmly took his cane , his hat, jacket, coffee, and left. The next morning I found out when he did leave he drove his car straight through his bank and was arrested. 5) Slick Robber I actually give props to people who can actually pull this off. This story may confuse you so I'll try and explain things as best as possible. A lot of casinos have machines as soon as you walk through the front doors. A man walks up to one of these machines and sticks in HIS $100 bill. He doesn't gamble it, instead he hits the cash out button and gets a $100 TITO ticket where he then takes the ticket to the ATM machine to get his $100. Now remember, his Original $100 is in the slot machine. He then takes the $100 from the ATM and goes back to the same machine, and repeats this process over a hundred times. Essentially he's taking money from the ATM, and loading up the Slot Machine . Now he knows he can't do it too much because if the slot machine gets full of money, the machine will shut down and the slow attendant will have to take all the cash out. So he deposits over $10,000 , then has a small crowbar, he cracks the machine open and makes a run out the front door. To my knowledge he was never caught . But damn, that was pretty smart . EDIT: 6) Mental Health is a thing. 10PM man walks in to play some high limit BlackJack. This guy knows the game and played well. Dressed nice, drank juice/tea , a little bit of a attitude, cashed in over $10,000. When this man was half way down his buy in, he said something a long the lines of "If I don't win here tonight, I'm going to go set myself on fire." I wasn't sure if he was serious because when people are down, they tend to say a lot of nonsense. I actually left early that night, and from a third party was told he did exactly that in the parking lot. The next day it was clear something terrible had gone wrong in the parking lot . EDIT: 7) Nothing good happens after midnight After a busy Saturday night, I was dealing a mix of games, and during this story I was in the middle of Blackjack. I had one young kid (probably 19) sitting in the middle, one older male probably in his later 40's sitting beside him on his right, and I had a really nice couple in their 20's sitting together at the other side. This young kid wasn't playing just sort of watching, and ever time the old man won he would give this young guy some of his winnings. The older man, was a wine drinker, and he had black between all of his teeth, I'll never forget. He's a little drunk but nothing terrible. As the night goes on, the older man goes and uses the washroom, at which point the couple asked the young guy "Oh was that your dad?" and the young guy says "Hah, no I wish!". The couple and I just looked at each other. This old guy, was in complete control over this kid. Absolutely disgusting. The night ends, and I find out the couple called a few of their friends, and they all waited outside by this old mans truck and beat the living hell out of him. 40 years old, sleeping with a 19 year old, completely brain washed . Very weird. 8) That one co-worker where you just wish they would quit. One of our co-workers, nice guy but had a very big ego and we as employees just sorta left him alone. One day he had enough of the atmosphere and quit. Now usually when you quit, you cannot come back until you paperwork is finalized. How ever, HR was in that day, and he was given the paperwork the very next day. He came in, cashed in $1000, and made $50,000 in about a hour at the Baccarat table. My manager, was extremely annoyed, because now this guy is just mocking the casino and having the time of his life (Thanks for the big tip by the way :) ) and so he decides to call it quits. He wants to ban himself and he wants $50,000 in cash. The casino says Nope, we are going to give you a cheque. Now here's the thing, most business people will take the cheque, how ever you CANT CASH the cheque until the following monday because it's on that day where the funds are available. The casino on the other hand will cash their own check in anytime , because they want you to play. So this guy pretty much said go to hell I want my cash, and he called the police. Police show up, and management promptly gave him the cash.I though it was absolutely hilarious . 9) No good deed goes un punished I was dealing Three Card Poker, and the jackpot was around $17,000. This old man (a regular) was sitting there all day grinding it out. Super nice guy, always a pleasure to deal to. Well, after hours of playing, he stands up and says "Hey john!, can you come here for a minute?" so his buddy John comes over. He says to John "I need to go take a piss real quick, can you play my card until I get back?" John agrees . John takes the chips and I stop him and explain he can't play his friends chips, he needs to cash in and play his own. And he does. Welp, second hand out and bam, doesn't he win it. The old man comes back and is so happy, he can't believe it. John, took his $17,000, didn't say a word to his "buddy" and walked away. I never felt so much hatred in all my life. Didn't give him a dollar, not a thank you, nothing. The old man sits back down again, the progressive resets to $2500, and he sat there grinding away again. 10) The Top Knot I had this player , young guy, who was born into a fortune. One of his relatives passed away and left him a pretty big sizable amount of money, so he played poker every single day for the rest of his days. I will add, he IS a good player. I did not enjoy his company just because of the "Know-it-All" attitude, but he was good. We'll call him John. John is 5'10, and well build, with muscle. John also decided today was the day to show off his Top Knot. (google top knot if you're not sure what I mean) So he sits down, and he's absolutely KILLING the table. Every hand, after hand, after hand. And because he's in such a good mood, he's playing any two cards, calling any $500 bet, and he's just dominating. This one guy at the table decided he had enough. He got up, without saying a word and left. A moment later, he comes back in, walks behind John, and takes a pair of scissors , and cuts off his Top Knot. I for one couldn't believe it, dying laughing inside, and it just turned into one big brawl. That was a good day. 11) That one bad seed One of my best friends who I haven't seen in YEARS ended up being part of the crew. Was kind of nice to catch up. We never really got along as we grew up because he has a very high picture of himself . He wanted that 10/10 woman. A mansion, and a new Corvette. So every month or so we would all go up to the other casino to play. I myself would bring no more than $500, but I couldn't understand how this guy (we'll call him Kyle) was spending THOUSANDS of dollars at the tables. So this wen on for a few months. Well, one day, as we're closing the casino, he and I are in the High Limit room and we're getting ready to close the tables. We are told to take the chips out, count them, put them back, sign this piece of paper and that's it. Well as the supervisor was locking the tray, the piece of paper fell to the floor, so she asked Kyle to grab the piece of paper. As he bends over, a great big $500 chip falls right out of his sock. Kyle was fired immediately , but it all made sense. They offered Kyle a deal where if he replaced all the stolen chips they would not make it public. Not sure how that turned out. 12) If I ever decide to write a book, this will be the last chapter: <3 After working at my first Casino for five years, I met a Indian woman who was visiting from another part of the country. During this time I was explaining a game to her, which honestly I don't think she even cared. She explained she was visiting and sight seeing , and that was that.Well, two years later I ended up moving to the other side of the country and transferred casinos, and low and behold she worked there as a Dealer. We got married , and it's been 5 years. 13) The Tip One of our tables that we've had for a couple years had a progressive jackpot that had reached $100,000. The dealer at the table was sitting pretty lonely. Nobody really played the game because people knew it was extremely difficult to win the jackpot. My memory is a tad foggy, but you somehow needed to flop the royal flush. This young guy sits down and says to the dealer, we'll call him John. "John, if you pay me that jackpot, I will tip you $10,000" Well John started dealing, and about a half hour into his shift, he F*cking did it. He dealt him the royal. And you know something?This young lad, kept his word, and he made sure there was a audience, and he tipped exactly $10,000. That was a moment right there. That pay cheque was real nice. I think we all got about $500 more than usual. The moment that jackpot was awarded they got rid of the table because the money it was making was not near what the casino wanted. I'm sure there have been bigger tips at other casinos, but that was something special . 14) The Lawsuit Now this story I'm going to have to beat around the bush a bit due to the nature of what happened. I can't won't answer any questions that you may have on this topic other than what I have to say because it had a lot of publicity . The waitresses at this casino had to wear very thin sexy clothes. Not borderline legal, but it was noticed. One day they called all the waitresses to come in and explained they were changing their outfit to something even more sexier. Now these new dresses were very very borderline legal . The staff said No way. We're not wearing that.So , friday night comes, and the staff work their whole shift, then at the end of their shift were called into a meeting and were all fired. Welp, one of those ladies father was a pretty big time lawyer. Brough the casino to court and won. They won big. Good for them. We had no waitresses for a couple days haha. Thanks for reading along, I have many more I can add as the day goes on, those were just some off the top of my head. Feel free to ask any questions of the Casino industry. I don't really have many stories about the surveillance department because that's the one area where I can't really say a whole lot due to its privacy and contracts I was and still am under.
Rough Night at The Running Bear Casino (PAGE 2 of 2)
PAGE 2 of 2 **** * **** Hussein nudged his brother Iqbal and aimed his chin toward the bar. “Look, a fat, stupid American has finally managed some success.” Iqbal smirked, “It is the only way the infidels can succeed. They have no education and no skills to do anything useful. They don’t even worship their own God anymore, only money and fame. They will soon learn better…” The brothers were out enjoying a night of revelry, with a few more planned when they reached the city. The celebrations were a last reward before they fulfilled their mission and achieved True Paradise through martyrdom. Hussein was superstitious and hoped to find success at gambling before they took the great risk that if successful, would help to sustain their cause. They’d grown up in this land of debauchery and foolishness but had been taught from the first to honor their own Beliefs and culture above anything the Americans professed. Hussein was on roll number five of what he intended to be a short run. He wished to win five times for the Five Pillars of Islam, the name of his cell in the latest great Jihad. He blew on the dice and tossed. The small cubes bounced against the back side of the pit and tumbled end over end as he watched breathlessly. “Another ten!” the barker called. And pushed the winnings toward Hussein. He placed a minimum bet and rolled once more. He had already left the table before the barker called, “Snakeyes! Next roller please.” He held up his chips triumphantly, “Iqbal, more money from roll number five! I kept the bet in place for five rolls, I left only the minimum for the last roll, it is a Sign! We are fated to succeed. We will meet the others tomorrow, go over the plan, and then have a few last nights to revel in this world…” Iqbal patted his brother on the shoulder, “There is something I would like more than winning chips. He nodded toward the bar and the attractive and sinuous young local who worked behind it, steadily polishing glasses. Hussein watched for a moment, unsure whether his brother meant the alcoholic drinks that had been forbidden until now or the woman. Knowing Iqbal, he assumed both. “As you wish brother. Take your mortal enjoyments while you can. She looks a little sullen though, frown, lowered brows, I like the happy ones.” Iqbal’s serpent-like smile widened, “She will look better when I have freed her from the miseries of the uncircumcised. She will enjoy a real man. Who knows? Maybe I will convert her so that we can meet again in Paradise.” With that, he surged away from his brother and slithered up to the bar opposite the young First Nations maid. “Good evening, I noticed that you do not have many customers at the bar. It seems odd that so beautiful a creature as yourself would not attract more company.” The woman ignored him, intently focused on her task. He tried again, “Perhaps I must order a drink to remain at the bar? If so, a gin and tonic if you please.” She continued to polish the glass. He leaned forward, “Did you hear me?” he inquired in an annoyed tone. “Perhaps you have no business because you are surly and unhelpful.” She looked at him and delivered a smirk that appeared to be far more evil than anything he could ever hope to muster, despite his thin, reptilian lips and predatory mind, “We don’t want customers to linger at the bar, getting drunk and building from misery to anger over their losses. We want them playing… and losing.” She leaned toward him and glared into his own eyes that he normally considered flinty and daunting. “You know about losing, don’t you?” Hussein noted that the large man at the end of the bar in the “Security” shirt had begun stumping toward them. “Iqbal, perhaps it is time to go look for other entertainment.” Iqbal ignored him, he was trapped in the serpent’s gaze, like a mouse dropped into a snake’s tank to be devoured while its owner watched with perverse interest. Hussein reached for his brother to tug at his arm but never got the chance. The big security officer seized his hand, drew it to his too wide chest and turned. The weight of the man drew him away from his brother and caused him to spin around so that he ended up facing the goon with his brother beyond the man and in the clutches of the Serpent Woman. The ham-fisted gargantuan continued to twist the hand he gripped until the pressure caused Hussein sever pain. He grunted and bent into the angle of his wrist to relieve the distress. He found himself bent forward and looking up desperately toward the man’s face. The security staffer smiled, his square, blunt teeth showing dark behind an almost lipless mouth. His wide back and chest, covered in body armor under his shirt made him appear like a monster-sized… Turtle. Hussein felt himself lifted and placed behind the bar. His brother soon slithered over the top and fell to the floor beside him, smiling beatifically. Hussein opened his mouth to scream for help, but a large, blunt fist crashed into the side of his head and he saw stars… seven of them, like the Holy... The fist descended once more, and he saw only darkness. **** * **** Fr. Danilo Bayani was immensely enjoying his latest trip to the continental USA. He had visited Hawaii many years ago, and New York City more recently, but this was his first tour of the grand landbound spaces that this country offered. He’d managed to roam so far from his origins in Manila. Now, in his twilight years, he longed to see what he could of God’s Green Earth. All on the payroll of The Vatican while they cleanse the records of those hateful… allegations. The bitter thoughts raced across his mind. Of course he was a sinner, he was only mortal. He’d been expiated of those sins and had paid an enormous price to continue serving in his capacity as a parish priest. He forced his mind to return to the moment and more enjoyable pursuits. He noted the hirsute and similar appearing pair of men who had gone to the bar and wondered why the Security officer approached them, but his attention was called once more to the round of Texas Hold’em and his table mates. When he again had a moment to look, no one was at the bar, in front or behind… curious, he thought, but he quickly refocused his attention on the fascinating new game he was in the process of learning. He was familiar with Poker, so it wasn’t difficult to learn. He liked the high level of interaction that this version of the old game allowed. He’d done well, certainly gained enough to fund extracurricular activities during the rest of his current sabbatical. He’d been disturbed by the overall atmosphere of this place when he’d arrived. He did not care for the numerous paintings and sculptures of Ancient Native Deities and Spirits. They seemed to be mostly images of the Dark Beings of various Tribal cultures. He loved to study diverse cultures, but this place was an amalgamation of cultures, built for mutual support by several Tribes in the region. Much of the artwork was schlocky and clearly intended to cater to the garish and sordid tastes of the vapid gambling set. Some part of him did not feel… welcome, as though he had intruded on some private Place, set aside for Other Gods. He shook off the depressing musings… There areNO Other Gods, he reassured himself. He soon stepped away from the table to take care of personal needs and to decide what he should do with the rest of his night. Perhaps he would visit the White Dove Restaurant & Ballroom on the other side of the hotel lobby from the casino. It boasted a good reputation according to online reviews, even though it was a simple buffet style with a dance floor to one side. He liked the name, it was… peaceful he decided. He soon had a selection of food piled onto a plate and was seated near the dance floor. The place was sparsely occupied, so his hopes of being able to watch dancers as he ate were dashed. Still, the food was good enough. A little bland, but that was necessary in a place that acted as a crossroads of cultures. There was a spice table at the end of the primary row of entrees. He’d helped himself, yet nothing seemed to attach to his taste buds. The combination of eating nearly alone, having no one with energy around him, and the tasteless food soon had him growing restless. He finished up his repast and left the table to go out to the final section of the complex he had not visited, the River Overlook. As he passed the table nearest the entrance, he saw a stout man in a rumpled sport coat, who glared daggers at him, eyes focused on his crucifix, the only outward sign of his profession. The man appeared to be so hostile, that he paused for a moment to determine whether he’d done anything to offend the fellow. “Excuse me sir, have I offended you in some way?” The man looked startled. He was apparently unused to being confronted about his demeanor or behavior. He scowled, “Don’t like that thing you have around your neck. You Catholics are all Hell-bound. No concept of righteousness. Not that you’d understand, you people don’t even read The Book. You listen to your priests and pope and disregard The Word. All the kneeling and ritual prayers in the world won’t save you in the end. Go back to your idols and beads and leave me alone to seek Heaven.” Fr. Bayani was startled by the vehemence with which the man spoke. He hadn’t been attacked directly for his Faith in years. “Sir, I’m not sure what Religion you practice, but I am a man of God, a consecrated priest of the Holy Church. I assure you that I understand more than most, if not as much as I would like. I meant no harm and wish you a peaceful night.” With that, he started to walk past the man, but the man rose from his table and pointed his finger, “Your pope is the Anti-Christ, and your Church is a place of Satan! Look to the Bible for your salvation before it’s too late.” Fr. Bayani increased his pace and continued on his journey to the River Overlook. He would need the peace and tranquility that nature and the sound of flowing water would provide to settle his roiling mind. **** * **** Pastor Bill resumed his seat and shook his head, “Fool, doesn’t know that he’s risking his soul, courting Damnation.” He’d had a bad run at the tables over at the casino. His Denomination frowned on games of chance, but he had needed the money. One of his congregation had come up pregnant and they had to get it resolved before the three-month deadline for abortions. He knew that if his wife found out about Carmen, then she would divorce him. He was here to break every major rule that he professed to hold dear each week. His plan for quick money had failed, so he’d visited the bar. Now he hoped that eating would guide him back to sobriety. He had to think of another plan. Seeing that… priest had annoyed him. Had he not been inebriated, he would never have said what he did, nor stared so rudely in the first place. Yet he wanted someone on whom to vent the anger he felt, that arose from fear and he’d always disliked the papists. If his wife divorced him, if the scandal involving the woman who cleaned the church all week and then occupied the back pew every Sunday ever broke; he would lose his ministry, his livelihood. His degree in Theology would be worthless. He might be able to get a job teaching, at some secular school, but most would not hire fervent Christians like himself. He stared dejectedly at his plate of food that had contained more spice and flavors than he liked, a shadow passed in his periphery. It was low-slung and blurred just a bit as it loped along the wall. He thought he heard an odd laugh, somewhere between human and… canine? Maybe a little like a hyena might sound, or so he imagined. There was a manic quality to the laughter. A jest that was on him so that only the other Entity knew what it was. It was the wicked laughter of children at play, who’d decided to target a fat kid with glasses.A kid whose parents had been abusive addicts but who later “got right” through religious-based recovery programs.Their faith had led him to his own, but he’d never really lost those early traumas of being unaccepted by his peers and being beaten by people who later professed faith above all. A mocking whine, definitely doggish, his now sobering consciousness informed him. Something was making fun of him, teasing him from the shadows. He looked around for staff members or other customers but found himself alone. The dining area and the dance floor were deserted. It was odd, there was almost always someone at the buffet service tables. He looked over to the kitchen doors in hopes that one of the employees would burst through with a fresh serving of chicken wings or whatever tray had been emptied. He saw dark figures move past the clouded round windows on the swinging doors and temporarily occlude the bright kitchen lights within, but they were indistinct blobs, and appeared to be focused on tasks of their own choosing rather than service of his needs. He stood and realized that he was more intoxicated than he’d realized. He immediately resumed his seat and bent forward to regain his balance and bearings… and to swallow his rising gorge. When he sat up again, a dark, shaggy form perched in the chair across from him. The figure was no more than a silhouette, a raggedly hewn shadow. Yet there were eyes. Sinister golden gleams appeared and blinked at him. He heard a heavy, panting sort of breathing and a gust of foul-smelling carnivore breath assaulted his olfactory senses. “Who? Er, what are you doing at my table?” he asked in a mushy, confused manner. Still fighting off waves of nausea. He could not see it very well in the poorly illuminated dining room, but his impression was that the... Being… smiled at him: a gaping, lolling smile, with a tongue dangling out to one side and sharp canines gleaming. “I thought I would check on you my righteous friend. You seem to be upset, unhappy. You nipped and barked at that other person who shares your Faith. I thought perhaps there was a deeper concern preying on your conscience?” Pastor Bill had to force himself to think through what this… person? Had said to him. Likely some hippie-dippy weirdo. “That guy was a Catholic priest, we’re nowhere near the same Religion.” Once more he heard the chortling laughter that was now very clear, “I’m sure you think it’s different. Those of his specific religion, came to these lands many years ago. They were the first of you Christians to arrive. The rest have been simple variations on a theme. The problems began, when your co-religionists assumed that only your God exists; that all of the local Gods and Spirits were instead Demons and Dark Powers. Instead of trying to show that yours is a better Way, you Christians insisted that yours is the only Way. You’ve forgotten that in Ancient Times, people held True to Deities who were attached to local communities or to the land and features around them; geographically and ethnically relevant. You have gone from subsuming and incorporating Older Gods as Angels and Saints, to Demonizing Them, and now in your hubris, to denying Them altogether.” He shook His head. “Too bad really, it creates an Adversarial relationship.” He chuckled at some joke that Pastor Bill was still too drunk to comprehend. Pastor Bill had grown increasingly fearful as the Voice intoned Its Philosophies. He wanted to refute that Voice, to deny Its very Existence. Yet he feared Its Wrath more than anything he’d ever feared, even the Fires of Hell. Instead of making a stand and arguing his faith, he staggered to his feet and ran, stumbled, blindly toward the kitchen and the pale, ghostly figures within. Surely someone within would save him! The sardonic laughter chortled after him and chased him into the too bright lights, descending into the yips and howls of Coyote even as the doors swung shut behind him. He looked around at the glowing white figures who halted in their various progresses to stare at him. Their eyes! There were none, just empty sockets, faces slack, with gaping, lamprey maws. He heard a new sound as they swarmed him… his own forlorn screams of ultimate agony. **** * **** Fr. Bayani stood out on the River Overlook platform and enjoyed the solitude that had so recently left him restless. There were plenty of noises out across the flowing torrent: the water itself, as it passed over hidden objects, fish as they leapt from its embrace to kiss the night air, frogs and insects, and the warbling, mournful sounds of a loon, and the soft sigh of the wind as it passed through the verdant landscape. This is much more peaceful than the White Dove he thought. He had some trouble shaking off ruminations on the verbal assault from the strange, possibly drunken man in the restaurant. He decided that he would pray for the man, that he would one day soon find The True Faith. Sometimes that was all one could do for the short-sighted. He heard a deep, coughing hiss out in the dark. He was startled but quickly realized that it was an American Alligator, cousin to creatures he had observed in many places around the planet. He was truly content, at one with Nature in all Her Glory… in all the natural splendor of Creation! he immediately corrected himself. A sound impinged on his senses as it slowly rose and obscured the others… it was a lapping sound at first, more like ocean waves on a beach than the banks of a river. Waves, at cross purposes to the flow of the river, slapped at the base of the platform. Soon they sounds evolved into splashes, as if something very large approached the River Overlook platform. He leaned over the rail to have a closer look. Perhaps it was a large water creature or a boat… maybe a ‘gator as the locals called the big reptiles. He peered down at the dim rippling surface below. At first, he was unable to discern anything but small reflections on the water as it swirled and lapped; then from below the surface, he spotted an eye, a too large eye! It glowed from within with a sickly luminescence akin to that produced by deep growing fungi. As he stared in horror, he saw a mouth gape below the eye, and enormous frog-like opening with no teeth but serrated lips, like some monstrous catfish. As he stared, too much in shock to act, he suddenly felt his body wrapped in strong, leprous flesh and he quickly lost his ability to breathe. The last sight he saw before he plunged over the safety rail was the thin, grey, first light of dawn. **** * **** Chief Harry Whitehorse gazed around at his fellow chiefs and Shamans from various local Tribes, “So, are The Dark Ones satisfied once again? Have They sated their appetites on strangers so that our peoples will be safe for another year?” Affirmative rumbles muttered around the conference room. Red Wolf, a Shaman, spoke from near the back row, “They are not only satisfied but Coyote assures us that the prey people will not be linked with our premises or business operations.” Most of the fresh mutters sounded pleased, but old Harry had to ask, “Can we trust Him?” Chortling laughter sounded throughout the conference room and ascended into thunderous yips and howls of hysterical glee.
I walked in and was immediately awestruck by the ornate interior of the best casino in the world, The Barterer’s Lounge. Some players were walking around with suits and escorts while other people looked like they had not eaten for days. My cohorts? Adam, Bart, Carl, David, and Erin. We decided to have a seat at a “Texas Holdem” table with someone waiting to play. This guy looked like he had just snorted cocaine, after a 2 day bender on whiskey, but hey, “When in Rome” right? Weird thing is, this guy was in a suit and had five escorts. Five! Judging by the sheer boredom of his lady friends, this dude clearly hasn't left this table in over eight hours. The table seats six and the rules are very clear. At a new table: The only buy-in is allowed once at the beginning of the game. But you don’t have to pay the fifteen dollar entry fee in cash or otherwise until the end of the game. If you go out, only then do you have to pay the cash. We already knew this and we had plenty of cash for a trip to the casino. Woo! Adam had been saving for, jeez, over a decade? Adam’s been family friends since as long as I can remember. Who knows how old the guy is but he’s Bart’s dad and I love them both. Carl lives next door and we do some work from home but mostly sit at home playing some consoles drinking some beer and doing neighborhood poker with David and Erin. They’re an awesome pair. We all looked at one another and visually confirmed that we had exactly fifteen dollars in cash ready for the game because once you sit down, there is no turning back. Security has a person watching every individual one to one while sitting at a table. It is kinda creepy to have someone watching over you, but hey, I know the rules. Carl and I were already doing a visual check on this guy and figured he’s too whacked out to be a smart player in this poker game. But he can obviously afford the buy-in so we were very happy to have a few more chips to pass around between the five of us at the end of the game. “Frank, you ready?” Carl asks. “Yeah, let’s rock,” I replied. We all sat down together and the player at the table eagerly agreed to play a game with us. Once we all agreed to play together, one of the security guards powered up the dealer. The automaton started whirring up and a few sparks flew from faulty wiring that obviously hadn’t been maintained in years. But if it works for the house, it works for me. “Sir, this is a casino,” the robot said. I replied, “Duh,” and the dealer dealt our first two private cards each. Our extra player says “Hold on a sec, I want to make a side wager. I want to put a chip in saying that the old fart loses all his money on this first hand.” The dealer mechanically screeches “This is a side wager separate from the game’s pot.” We all looked at each other dumbfounded. “Does this guy even know the rules of Texas Holdem?” I thought. I looked at Carl and I knew that is exactly what he was thinking too. “Yea, I’ll call that for a chip.” We all threw a chip in. But not Adam. Why would he? He still has all his chips and as long as he doesn’t do anything stupid, or even bet at all, Kevin loses that bet. Our extra player was turning out to be a real go-getter, so I wanted to do some small-talk to bring him off the game. “Hey, My name’s Frank. Yours?” “Kevin,” he says abruptly between the twitches of his eyelids. “Hey Kevin, nice to play with ya dude,” I reply. Kevin immediately says, “Hold on, I’ll bet another chip that the old man goes under this hand.” Easiest call of my life. Everyone throws another chip in because old man Adam ain’t no fool when it comes to poker. All he has to do is not wager “all-in” on a losing hand and we all get a few extra chips at the end of the hand. We all toss in that chip. “Alright let’s get on with it,” Kevin barks at the dealer. The first three cards are shown and immediately Kevin wants to do another chip that Adam goes under this hand. We all call. I ask him, “So what do you do, Kevin?” He says with a straight face, “Well if I’m not here I’m on my jet going between my five mansions.You know what, let’s put in another chip that Ole Yeller flops on this hand.” I knew this guy was off his rocker and we didn’t care because everyone knows we’re all good for the money or else the “barter rules” come into effect. We all had visually checked our cash before we sat down. Well I don’t actually know about Kevin but I figure he’s good for it considering his escorts had all bought themselves Wendy’s chicken tenders from the food court on Kevin’s credit card. Play resumes and Kevin puts a few chips on the actual game of poker this time. Adam does nothing, no surprise there. But the rest of us call Kevin’s position. Who knows what each other’s dealt hands are. I only know mine. “So five mansions huh? Nice,” I say. “You do anything else for fun?” Kevin looks at me like he wasn’t expecting such filth to speak and disgustedly replies, “Well, I like my yacht. It’s got its own docking port for a smaller yacht. So you could say I’m into water sports.” After realizing he spent even a few seconds humoring me, Kevin shouts, “Let’s do three more chips in another side pot that the old man actually literally dies during the game.” We all chuckled pretty good at that one and threw our three chips in each. “Let’s play.” Kevin demanded. “Show the next card,” he snarled. As the card lands on the table, Kevin bets ten more chips that Adam goes all-in on a losing hand. Seeing as this is the first round of the game and we all had the same chips at buy-in, it’s a no brainer match position for 10 chips. Meanwhile Adam is stone-cold poker face and hasn’t actually put any chips in on the opening three. “Alright 15 chips on the play,” Kevin absent-mindendly said without even looking at the card. I noticed that he hadn’t even looked at his hand because his two cards were strewn out in front of him in the original place the dealer placed them. Everyone but Adam plays Kevin’s bet and the showdown resumes. Well, almost resumes. “And I’ll put half of my remaining chips on my initial bet that pops loses all his chips this hand,” Kevin states. And guess what we all did? We called the bet because we’re all keeping track of how many chips were initially given out and this was a no-brainer that we were all on the same pace of losing chips. Except Adam of course because he hadn’t placed any bets so far. He was ready for a few actual full games of poker. I know he had more than only the fifteen dollar pay-out fee for a single game if he lost. “And I’ll put the rest on my other bet that the boomer literally dies during this game.” We all blankly looked at each other and threw our remaining chips on that bet. But not Adam, why would he? He’s got all his chips from not even Adam’s old but he’s not on death’s door by any means. He lifted weights professionally in his earlier years and still does cardio daily. Naturally, he doesn’t look a day over fifty. “We have an ‘all-in’ at the table” the junkbot for a dealer said and an extra set of lights flicked on at our table. They were so bright I was getting a terrible glare from an heirloom ring I had on my finger. I rotated the rock to the inside of my finger and made a fist so the glare wouldn’t blind me. The robot dealer plays out the last card but it doesn’t matter to Kevin or anyone else because we’re all-in. “The player who placed the initial bet shows their hand,” says the dealer. And we all waited patiently. We sat together in silence for what seemed like forever. Until Kevin’s casino-assigned agent realized that Kevin was too coked out to do it himself. “A two of hearts and a seven of clubs from the initial bet maker.” The dealer continues, “There are no additional plays on the field for the bet maker. The player with the best hand wins.” I only had a pair of three of hearts and a four of diamonds in my hand. Carl immediately turns his cards over. “A pair of sixes with another on the table. That’s three of a kind.” We all split the earnings of the initial side bet amongst ourselves minus Adam. And since Adam still had a pulse we all split the second pot too. “This game is closed. All players must pay their cash fee for the round. If any players do not have the cash initially agreed upon to enter the game, barter rules come into effect,” the dealer said. We all reached into our pockets and put the fifteen bucks on the table. Kevin reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill and a half eaten chicken tender. Kevin frantically searches his other pockets for any cash on his person. “Oh shit,” Kevin muttered as his face turned pale. “I must have spent my cash last night when I was more drunk.” I perk up a bit because I had no idea that there was even a chance to trigger the barter rule with this guy. The dealer asks, “Do you accept the remaining payment of meat to cover the remaining five dollars of this player’s entry fee?” “Hell no!” I shouted. “I want a million bucks, and one of your houses.” Bart finally chimes in and says, “Me too. Oh yea and I want your jet.” Carl agrees and adds “And the yacht!” David says, “Don’t forget the mini-yacht too.” Erin says, “I know you have a nice car, We’ll take that too.” Kevin slumps into his chair as the dealer asks, “Are there any other terms to this agreement?” We all looked at each other and Adam added, “And an order of tendies all around. But not for Kevin.” That was a bad move, Kevin.
Rough Night at the Running Bear Casino (PAGE 2 of 2)
**** * **** Hussein nudged his brother Iqbal and aimed his chin toward the bar. “Look, a fat, stupid American has finally managed some success.” Iqbal smirked, “It is the only way the infidels can succeed. They have no education and no skills to do anything useful. They don’t even worship their own God anymore, only money and fame. They will soon learn better…” The brothers were out enjoying a night of revelry, with a few more planned when they reached the city. The celebrations were a last reward before they fulfilled their mission and achieved True Paradise through martyrdom. Hussein was superstitious and hoped to find success at gambling before they took the great risk that if successful, would help to sustain their cause. They’d grown up in this land of debauchery and foolishness but had been taught from the first to honor their own Beliefs and culture above anything the Americans professed. Hussein was on roll number five of what he intended to be a short run. He wished to win five times for the Five Pillars of Islam, the name of his cell in the latest great Jihad. He blew on the dice and tossed. The small cubes bounced against the back side of the pit and tumbled end over end as he watched breathlessly. “Another ten!” the barker called. And pushed the winnings toward Hussein. He placed a minimum bet and rolled once more. He had already left the table before the barker called, “Snakeyes! Next roller please.” He held up his chips triumphantly, “Iqbal, more money from roll number five! I kept the bet in place for five rolls, I left only the minimum for the last roll, it is a Sign! We are fated to succeed. We will meet the others tomorrow, go over the plan, and then have a few last nights to revel in this world…” Iqbal patted his brother on the shoulder, “There is something I would like more than winning chips. He nodded toward the bar and the attractive and sinuous young local who worked behind it, steadily polishing glasses. Hussein watched for a moment, unsure whether his brother meant the alcoholic drinks that had been forbidden until now or the woman. Knowing Iqbal, he assumed both. “As you wish brother. Take your mortal enjoyments while you can. She looks a little sullen though, frown, lowered brows, I like the happy ones.” Iqbal’s serpent-like smile widened, “She will look better when I have freed her from the miseries of the uncircumcised. She will enjoy a real man. Who knows? Maybe I will convert her so that we can meet again in Paradise.” With that, he surged away from his brother and slithered up to the bar opposite the young First Nations maid. “Good evening, I noticed that you do not have many customers at the bar. It seems odd that so beautiful a creature as yourself would not attract more company.” The woman ignored him, intently focused on her task. He tried again, “Perhaps I must order a drink to remain at the bar? If so, a gin and tonic if you please.” She continued to polish the glass. He leaned forward, “Did you hear me?” he inquired in an annoyed tone. “Perhaps you have no business because you are surly and unhelpful.” She looked at him and delivered a smirk that appeared to be far more evil than anything he could ever hope to muster, despite his thin, reptilian lips and predatory mind, “We don’t want customers to linger at the bar, getting drunk and building from misery to anger over their losses. We want them playing… and losing.” She leaned toward him and glared into his own eyes that he normally considered flinty and daunting. “You know about losing, don’t you?” Hussein noted that the large man at the end of the bar in the “Security” shirt had begun stumping toward them. “Iqbal, perhaps it is time to go look for other entertainment.” Iqbal ignored him, he was trapped in the serpent’s gaze, like a mouse dropped into a snake’s tank to be devoured while its owner watched with perverse interest. Hussein reached for his brother to tug at his arm but never got the chance. The big security officer seized his hand, drew it to his too wide chest and turned. The weight of the man drew him away from his brother and caused him to spin around so that he ended up facing the goon with his brother beyond the man and in the clutches of the Serpent Woman. The ham-fisted gargantuan continued to twist the hand he gripped until the pressure caused Hussein sever pain. He grunted and bent into the angle of his wrist to relieve the distress. He found himself bent forward and looking up desperately toward the man’s face. The security staffer smiled, his square, blunt teeth showing dark behind an almost lipless mouth. His wide back and chest, covered in body armor under his shirt made him appear like a monster-sized… Turtle. Hussein felt himself lifted and placed behind the bar. His brother soon slithered over the top and fell to the floor beside him, smiling beatifically. Hussein opened his mouth to scream for help, but a large, blunt fist crashed into the side of his head and he saw stars… seven of them, like the Holy... The fist descended once more, and he saw only darkness. **** * **** Fr. Danilo Bayani was immensely enjoying his latest trip to the continental USA. He had visited Hawaii many years ago, and New York City more recently, but this was his first tour of the grand landbound spaces that this country offered. He’d managed to roam so far from his origins in Manila. Now, in his twilight years, he longed to see what he could of God’s Green Earth. All on the payroll of The Vatican while they cleanse the records of those hateful… allegations. The bitter thoughts raced across his mind. Of course he was a sinner, he was only mortal. He’d been expiated of those sins and had paid an enormous price to continue serving in his capacity as a parish priest. He forced his mind to return to the moment and more enjoyable pursuits. He noted the hirsute and similar appearing pair of men who had gone to the bar and wondered why the Security officer approached them, but his attention was called once more to the round of Texas Hold’em and his table mates. When he again had a moment to look, no one was at the bar, in front or behind… curious, he thought, but he quickly refocused his attention on the fascinating new game he was in the process of learning. He was familiar with Poker, so it wasn’t difficult to learn. He liked the high level of interaction that this version of the old game allowed. He’d done well, certainly gained enough to fund extracurricular activities during the rest of his current sabbatical. He’d been disturbed by the overall atmosphere of this place when he’d arrived. He did not care for the numerous paintings and sculptures of Ancient Native Deities and Spirits. They seemed to be mostly images of the Dark Beings of various Tribal cultures. He loved to study diverse cultures, but this place was an amalgamation of cultures, built for mutual support by several Tribes in the region. Much of the artwork was schlocky and clearly intended to cater to the garish and sordid tastes of the vapid gambling set. Some part of him did not feel… welcome, as though he had intruded on some private Place, set aside for Other Gods. He shook off the depressing musings… There areNO Other Gods, he reassured himself. He soon stepped away from the table to take care of personal needs and to decide what he should do with the rest of his night. Perhaps he would visit the White Dove Restaurant & Ballroom on the other side of the hotel lobby from the casino. It boasted a good reputation according to online reviews, even though it was a simple buffet style with a dance floor to one side. He liked the name, it was… peaceful he decided. He soon had a selection of food piled onto a plate and was seated near the dance floor. The place was sparsely occupied, so his hopes of being able to watch dancers as he ate were dashed. Still, the food was good enough. A little bland, but that was necessary in a place that acted as a crossroads of cultures. There was a spice table at the end of the primary row of entrees. He’d helped himself, yet nothing seemed to attach to his taste buds. The combination of eating nearly alone, having no one with energy around him, and the tasteless food soon had him growing restless. He finished up his repast and left the table to go out to the final section of the complex he had not visited, the River Overlook. As he passed the table nearest the entrance, he saw a stout man in a rumpled sport coat, who glared daggers at him, eyes focused on his crucifix, the only outward sign of his profession. The man appeared to be so hostile, that he paused for a moment to determine whether he’d done anything to offend the fellow. “Excuse me sir, have I offended you in some way?” The man looked startled. He was apparently unused to being confronted about his demeanor or behavior. He scowled, “Don’t like that thing you have around your neck. You Catholics are all Hell-bound. No concept of righteousness. Not that you’d understand, you people don’t even read The Book. You listen to your priests and pope and disregard The Word. All the kneeling and ritual prayers in the world won’t save you in the end. Go back to your idols and beads and leave me alone to seek Heaven.” Fr. Bayani was startled by the vehemence with which the man spoke. He hadn’t been attacked directly for his Faith in years. “Sir, I’m not sure what Religion you practice, but I am a man of God, a consecrated priest of the Holy Church. I assure you that I understand more than most, if not as much as I would like. I meant no harm and wish you a peaceful night.” With that, he started to walk past the man, but the man rose from his table and pointed his finger, “Your pope is the Anti-Christ, and your Church is a place of Satan! Look to the Bible for your salvation before it’s too late.” Fr. Bayani increased his pace and continued on his journey to the River Overlook. He would need the peace and tranquility that nature and the sound of flowing water would provide to settle his roiling mind. **** * **** Pastor Bill resumed his seat and shook his head, “Fool, doesn’t know that he’s risking his soul, courting Damnation.” He’d had a bad run at the tables over at the casino. His Denomination frowned on games of chance, but he had needed the money. One of his congregation had come up pregnant and they had to get it resolved before the three-month deadline for abortions. He knew that if his wife found out about Carmen, then she would divorce him. He was here to break every major rule that he professed to hold dear each week. His plan for quick money had failed, so he’d visited the bar. Now he hoped that eating would guide him back to sobriety. He had to think of another plan. Seeing that… priest had annoyed him. Had he not been inebriated, he would never have said what he did, nor stared so rudely in the first place. Yet he wanted someone on whom to vent the anger he felt, that arose from fear and he’d always disliked the papists. If his wife divorced him, if the scandal involving the woman who cleaned the church all week and then occupied the back pew every Sunday ever broke; he would lose his ministry, his livelihood. His degree in Theology would be worthless. He might be able to get a job teaching, at some secular school, but most would not hire fervent Christians like himself. He stared dejectedly at his plate of food that had contained more spice and flavors than he liked, a shadow passed in his periphery. It was low-slung and blurred just a bit as it loped along the wall. He thought he heard an odd laugh, somewhere between human and… canine? Maybe a little like a hyena might sound, or so he imagined. There was a manic quality to the laughter. A jest that was on him so that only the other Entity knew what it was. It was the wicked laughter of children at play, who’d decided to target a fat kid with glasses.A kid whose parents had been abusive addicts but who later “got right” through religious-based recovery programs.Their faith had led him to his own, but he’d never really lost those early traumas of being unaccepted by his peers and being beaten by people who later professed faith above all. A mocking whine, definitely doggish, his now sobering consciousness informed him. Something was making fun of him, teasing him from the shadows. He looked around for staff members or other customers but found himself alone. The dining area and the dance floor were deserted. It was odd, there was almost always someone at the buffet service tables. He looked over to the kitchen doors in hopes that one of the employees would burst through with a fresh serving of chicken wings or whatever tray had been emptied. He saw dark figures move past the clouded round windows on the swinging doors and temporarily occlude the bright kitchen lights within, but they were indistinct blobs, and appeared to be focused on tasks of their own choosing rather than service of his needs. He stood and realized that he was more intoxicated than he’d realized. He immediately resumed his seat and bent forward to regain his balance and bearings… and to swallow his rising gorge. When he sat up again, a dark, shaggy form perched in the chair across from him. The figure was no more than a silhouette, a raggedly hewn shadow. Yet there were eyes. Sinister golden gleams appeared and blinked at him. He heard a heavy, panting sort of breathing and a gust of foul-smelling carnivore breath assaulted his olfactory senses. “Who? Er, what are you doing at my table?” he asked in a mushy, confused manner. Still fighting off waves of nausea. He could not see it very well in the poorly illuminated dining room, but his impression was that the... Being… smiled at him: a gaping, lolling smile, with a tongue dangling out to one side and sharp canines gleaming. “I thought I would check on you my righteous friend. You seem to be upset, unhappy. You nipped and barked at that other person who shares your Faith. I thought perhaps there was a deeper concern preying on your conscience?” Pastor Bill had to force himself to think through what this… person? Had said to him. Likely some hippie-dippy weirdo. “That guy was a Catholic priest, we’re nowhere near the same Religion.” Once more he heard the chortling laughter that was now very clear, “I’m sure you think it’s different. Those of his specific religion, came to these lands many years ago. They were the first of you Christians to arrive. The rest have been simple variations on a theme. The problems began, when your co-religionists assumed that only your God exists; that all of the local Gods and Spirits were instead Demons and Dark Powers. Instead of trying to show that yours is a better Way, you Christians insisted that yours is the only Way. You’ve forgotten that in Ancient Times, people held True to Deities who were attached to local communities or to the land and features around them; geographically and ethnically relevant. You have gone from subsuming and incorporating Older Gods as Angels and Saints, to Demonizing Them, and now in your hubris, to denying Them altogether.” He shook His head. “Too bad really, it creates an Adversarial relationship.” He chuckled at some joke that Pastor Bill was still too drunk to comprehend. Pastor Bill had grown increasingly fearful as the Voice intoned Its Philosophies. He wanted to refute that Voice, to deny Its very Existence. Yet he feared Its Wrath more than anything he’d ever feared, even the Fires of Hell. Instead of making a stand and arguing his faith, he staggered to his feet and ran, stumbled, blindly toward the kitchen and the pale, ghostly figures within. Surely someone within would save him! The sardonic laughter chortled after him and chased him into the too bright lights, descending into the yips and howls of Coyote even as the doors swung shut behind him. He looked around at the glowing white figures who halted in their various progresses to stare at him. Their eyes! There were none, just empty sockets, faces slack, with gaping, lamprey maws. He heard a new sound as they swarmed him… his own forlorn screams of ultimate agony. **** * **** Fr. Bayani stood out on the River Overlook platform and enjoyed the solitude that had so recently left him restless. There were plenty of noises out across the flowing torrent: the water itself, as it passed over hidden objects, fish as they leapt from its embrace to kiss the night air, frogs and insects, and the warbling, mournful sounds of a loon, and the soft sigh of the wind as it passed through the verdant landscape. This is much more peaceful than the White Dove he thought. He had some trouble shaking off ruminations on the verbal assault from the strange, possibly drunken man in the restaurant. He decided that he would pray for the man, that he would one day soon find The True Faith. Sometimes that was all one could do for the short-sighted. He heard a deep, coughing hiss out in the dark. He was startled but quickly realized that it was an American Alligator, cousin to creatures he had observed in many places around the planet. He was truly content, at one with Nature in all Her Glory… in all the natural splendor of Creation! he immediately corrected himself. A sound impinged on his senses as it slowly rose and obscured the others… it was a lapping sound at first, more like ocean waves on a beach than the banks of a river. Waves, at cross purposes to the flow of the river, slapped at the base of the platform. Soon they sounds evolved into splashes, as if something very large approached the River Overlook platform. He leaned over the rail to have a closer look. Perhaps it was a large water creature or a boat… maybe a ‘gator as the locals called the big reptiles. He peered down at the dim rippling surface below. At first, he was unable to discern anything but small reflections on the water as it swirled and lapped; then from below the surface, he spotted an eye, a too large eye! It glowed from within with a sickly luminescence akin to that produced by deep growing fungi. As he stared in horror, he saw a mouth gape below the eye, and enormous frog-like opening with no teeth but serrated lips, like some monstrous catfish. As he stared, too much in shock to act, he suddenly felt his body wrapped in strong, leprous flesh and he quickly lost his ability to breathe. The last sight he saw before he plunged over the safety rail was the thin, grey, first light of dawn. **** * **** Chief Harry Whitehorse gazed around at his fellow chiefs and Shamans from various local Tribes, “So, are The Dark Ones satisfied once again? Have They sated their appetites on strangers so that our peoples will be safe for another year?” Affirmative rumbles muttered around the conference room. Red Wolf, a Shaman, spoke from near the back row, “They are not only satisfied but Coyote assures us that the prey people will not be linked with our premises or business operations.” Most of the fresh mutters sounded pleased, but old Harry had to ask, “Can we trust Him?” Chortling laughter sounded throughout the conference room and ascended into thunderous yips and howls of hysterical glee.
Chapter 20 The dream was always the same. Terra found herself in a familiar place. Behind the control stick of her MagiTek armor. The burning rubble of a bell tower sat ablaze behind her as she continued her attack deeper into the city. Terra did as ordered, opening fire on the city and laying waste to any soldiers dumb enough to attack her. She would quickly dispatch them with her Ifrit Canon. As she stomped through the city streets, the buildings burned and crumbled all around her. She was surrounded by death and chaos as she laid waste to the city. Terra watched in horror as the destruction burned all around her. But then the dream changed as the world slowly faded into darkness. Terra looked down and could no longer see her armor. She stood there. Alone in the void. “Terra…” The voice whispered. The gentle voice returned. That familiar beacon in an otherwise unfamiliar world. Terra tried to remember where she heard the voice. As if it were an itch in the back of her mind, an itch that was near impossible to scratch. “Who are you?!” Terra screamed. “Listen well, and think clearly.” The voice replied in the distance, and then it was gone. Terra ran in the direction of the voice. Her feet were moving fast. She needed answers, the voice had them. But she noticed that no matter how fast she moved, she gained no ground. The darkness faded quickly as Locke shook her awake. “Alright, pal. Up and at, em’.” He said with his grin. “We got a long hike ahead of us, so eat something, and let’s get going.” The mood was different for Terra as they journeyed South. She found herself finally being able to relax a bit as Locke and Edgar let their guard down. Though they received no escort, word traveled to the scouts. Patrols were roaming the lands and protecting the king as he traveled on foot with his companions. Her worries melted away as she found herself marveling at the beautiful sights. Figaro was truly a bountiful land. Though her castle stood in the great desert, her countryside was not nearly as unforgiving. The weather was pleasant. The gentle sunlight beamed down on the grassy fields. The sun warmed Terra’s bones and calmed her spirit. Figaro’s snow-capped mountains looked picturesque, like from an oil painting. Not like those dreadful, sharp peaks of Narshe. Even the rains were gentle, warm and sweet. She made it a point to listen carefully to the world around her. The chirping of birds, the winds moving through the grassy fields, even her own breathing. They brought some peace to her frantic mind. Edgar was leading the party to a remote hunting cabin that King Edwin had insisted on building for his queen, though she seldom used it. Edgar’s mother believed that sleeping outside and tempering the body to the elements was the only way a king should live. “It toughens up the blood” She would insist. Edgar would always secretly wish for a hot meal and a soft feather bed, and although he was too proud to admit it, his dad was the same way during a hunt. Edgar caught himself chuckling quietly as he looked back on better times. The Knuckleheads were making chaos, causing a ruckus and making the castle their playground. The King was wise and good. The Queen, loving and strong-willed. “But those days are long gone,” he thought. He looked away as the smallest bit of sadness washed past his eyes. The sadness was short lived when the sight made them stop dead in their tracks. They looked to the sky to see a massive ship sailing across the heavens. Her wooden hull soared above as countless propellers briskly spun. The ship was flying west towards the sea. Terra’s jaw dropped at the sight. Locke looked on begrudgingly while the king looked on with wonder. “What is that?” Terra finally asked. “That is The Blackjack, the flying casino.” Edgar said. “She’s one hell of a machine. The only one of her kind.” “Yeah, but the Captain is a real piece of work.” Locke said before spitting on the ground. “What do you mean?” Terra couldn’t keep her eyes off the ship. “He gallivants around the world, living the high life.” Edgar explained. “He spends his days wandering, wooing women, and hosting high stakes poker games.” Edgar looked sullen. “I tried to buy into his last game and he said that I wasn’t rich enough for his blood.” “But you’re a king!” Terra exclaimed. “Indeed. That is what I told him.” He said with a sad look in his eyes. “But he assured me I couldn’t afford his price.” “Yeah.” Locke agreed. “We’d never have a chance in hell of getting on board that thing.” “What I wouldn’t give to get on board that ship.” Edgar said longingly. “I’d love to find out what makes her tick.” “I wonder what the world looks like from up there.” Terra said hopefully. They stood in silence as a warm breeze blew in their direction, as if to beckon them on. Chapter 21 “Are you going to play or are you going to fold?” Commissioner Allyn asked as The Captain swirled his fine crystal wineglass. “You’re wasting my time, and my time is not yours to waste”. Setzer loved playing against The Commissioner. The Nikeah Trade Union always had plenty of money to burn, and its leader knew how to light a fire. Setzer quietly looked at his cards and placed them on the table as he took a long drink as he pondered his next move. The Commissioner was on a hot streak. They had been playing for the better part of 12 hours and he was getting nothing but aces and kings. The Captain, on the other hand, was getting rags. Setzer Gabbiani hadn’t had a good hand all night as he quietly looked at his chip stack. He was short. In one bad hand, he could lose everything, even his fine doublet, quite possibly. The very thought excited him. Setzer looked at Allyn and gave him a cool smile. “Impatient, aren’t we?” Setzer teased. “I didn’t know you were in such a hurry to leave my establishment.” “I’m in a hurry to buy your vessel.” Allyn shot back. “I’m in a hurry to get this thing back to Nikeah.” “That would be most unfortunate for me.” The captain responded before taking a sip of wine. “So tell me, how exactly are you going to take my wings from me?” “You saw the bet. Five million gold pieces. From the looks of your stack, I’d say you have a couple of thousand at best.” He pointed out before taking a drag from his cigar. “Now, unless you just so happen to have 5 million, you’ll need to put something up. Now I’m sure that all of the luxurious finery you surround yourself isn’t worth that kind of money. But, I bet this ship is.” “I wouldn’t take that bet.” Setzer said with a smirk. “She’s worth a lot more than that.” “Not to me.” He snapped. “Five million is the bet. Your time’s up. Make a decision, what are you going to do?” Setzer sat up from his seat and revealed the inside of his doublet. Just inside the coat pocket sat three bar room darts made of solid gold. He pulled one out and studied it. He played with the dart for a moment as he pondered. He looked to a dart board hanging on the wall to his right, then back to Commissioner Allyn. The look of tension on his face was almost comical to Setzer. Allyn may have been a man of leisure, but he couldn’t relax worth a damn. “Well, I suppose I’ll let fate decide.” Setzer’s violet eyes met with the Commissioner's as he stared him down. In a quick flash, without aiming, he threw the dart at the board and it landed with a satisfying thud. A smile grew on his face as he kept glaring at Allyn. After what seemed like an eternity. Setzer looked over to see the dart sitting dead center in the double bullseye. “Well, there you have it.” He said with certainty. “Looks like I’ll call you.” Commissioner Allyn laughed heartily. “You are out of your mind, Setzer!” Setzer shrugged. “Well, there is no point to living life if you’re not willing to gamble with it. Now, are you going to show me your cards, or should I just take your money now?” The commissioner showed his cards. “Full house.” He said with a satisfied smile. “Jacks and Nines.” He chomped down on his cigar and looked at Setzer’s face. It showed him absolutely nothing. Setzer sighed. “I am afraid I only have two pair.” He flipped over his cards. “Pair of deuces with another pair of deuces.” The Commissioner's smile disappeared as the rage took over. His face turning beet red as he violently stood up. “You dirty little cheat!” he accused. “Come now, my friend.” Setzer said as he leaned back comfortably in his seat. “You know I would never stoop to such low standards just to win a card game. Lady luck merely flashed me her grin, nothing more. Now, I am more than happy to give you a chance to win back your money if you desire.” “Win back? No. I’m taking it back, alongside your ship, as payment for your cheating!” “Sir, I have tolerated your blustering for the better part of 12 hours,” Stezter stated firmly, “I have taken it in stride as this has been a friendly game up to this point. However, if you continue to make such disgraceful accusations, will deal with you in an equally disgraceful manner.” “I’d like to see you try, you son of a-” Setzer picked up the 2 of diamonds and threw it at the Commissioner. Allyn laughed at the thought of being attacked with a playing card. Then he felt the side of his head start to sting. Then it started to bleed. Then it started to hurt. Allyn groaned in pain as he put pressure on the bleeding wound across his head. Setzer got up and walked over to him. “Well, I believe that is enough excitement for one evening, wouldn’t you agree?” He said casually. “You’re a dead man, Setzer Gabbiani. Mark my words.” The Commissioner Threatened. “No, you mark mine.” He retorted. “I was able to disable you with the 2 of diamonds. That was one card. Now I’d like you to take a moment and imagine what I could do with the remaining 51.” That was exactly what The Commissioner did. He looked at his hand, he was bleeding more than he thought. The thought of what could happen turned his stomach. And that is when he noticed the friendly and playful demeanor of the gentleman gambler had disappeared, a cold and merciless look had taken over. “However, I am more than willing to overlook this misunderstanding. After all, what’s a mistake between friends?” Setzer offered as he extended his hand. “All I expect is an apology.” The Commissioner took his hand quickly and stood up. “Of course, I apologize. What I said was out of line. You played a fine hand, Captain” “Think nothing of it.” Setzer said as he painfully tightened his grip on The Commissioner's hand. “Now, if you ever forget your manners in my establishment again, I promise you will spend the last moments of your life trying to fly. Have I made myself clear, Commissioner?” “Yes. Perfectly clear, Captain.” Allyn responded immediately. Setzer’s playful smile returned as he led the Commissioner out of the poker room. “Marvelous!” He exclaimed. “Let us retire to the lounge for a refreshment as I ferry you home. Are you still a rum drinker?” Setzer asked. “I am.” Allyn replied humbled. “Excellent. Shall I set a course for Nikeah?” “That would be fine. Thank you, Captain.” Allyn said. Setzer went above deck to the ship’s wheel. A crescent moon was shining in the night sky above the clouds as he steered his ship east towards Nikeah. He smiled as he felt the wind breeze through his long, silver hair. Setzer knew exactly what he was going to do to celebrate. First stop: Jidoor for the appetizer. It had been a long day and he needed a proper meal. Then a hot bath with a thinly rolled cigar. And to end the evening with a gorgeous woman and a good night’s sleep in his suite at the Silver Lantern Inn. Then after a glorious breakfast, off to his tailor’s to get fitted for a new doublet and maybe a new suit. Second Stop: The Opera House for an evening of refined culture. It was opening night and Setzer was looking forward to the show. Aria de Mezzo Carattere was always one of his favorites. And a blonde goddess had been chosen for the part of Maria. Rumors of her beauty had traveled far and wide. He had to see if the rumors did her justice. He made a mental note to drop by the Jewlers in the banker’s district to pick out a diamond ring. Setzer found himself in the mood for romance. Writer's note: Yeah...been a while... There really isn't much of an interesting story about why it's been almost half a year since my last post. Sufficed to say, life happened. Well...that and a move to the opposite side of the country. I have been working on the story on and off for a little bit, but nothing ever major. Because I got hit with a horrible case of burnout. Then I started listening to Nobuo Uematsu's "Awakening" and the spark came back for a little bit. I wanted to switch things up as Setzer is one of my favorite characters in the game. I always had an interesting view on his character and I hope to explore that more now that I've gotten off of my butt and started to do some work once again. But if I'm going to do that, I REALLY need to pace myself. So I'm hoping to do 2 to 3 chapters a month, hopefully more. I sincerely apologize for the delays. I really want to keep working on this. Thanks to all of you who were reading this since the beginning. I'm hoping to keep working with this story as time goes on, so thanks for sticking with it!
What's the worst you've seen, or heard of? After years of dealing, I've got some doosies. Sadly, not all of them have happy endings. 1) Casino regular versus a casino novice (possible an online player, hard to tell). Flop comes Q-10-6, two diamonds. Regular bets, novice calls. Turn is another 6. Regular checks, novice announces a bet of $300. Regular calls. It happens that the novice's stack was $316, so he had only $16 left. The river is another blank -- I think a 5 -- and the regular checks. The novice bets his last $16, and the regular pauses, looking sheepish. He says, "This sucks. Obviously I don't want to fold for $16 but I missed everything" and turns his K-J of diamonds face up. Before I can say anything, the novice player laughs and says "That's funny, I've got the same thing" and turns over K-J offsuit. The regular says, "I call." Novice says, "wait, what?" The applicable rule here was that in our cardroom, when two players were heads up, they were permitted to show their opponents one or both cards. The regular's showing his hand did not constitute a fold, though he clearly knew his opponent might think he was folding. The result was unfortunate. I called the houseman over immediately, and he explained the rule to the novice player -- that neither of them had folded, action was still live, and the bet was still to the regular player. The regular player had called, so the pot was split. The regular player was strongly cautioned not to pull that shit anymore, but in this case, the rules were unfortunately in his favor. 2) This one will make some people angry. I didn't witness it, tragically, but heard about it from coworkers the day after. It's at $1/$2 NLH, but there are two players with massive stacks, and they've been goading each other all night. They reach a flop heads up with over $400 in the pot already, and one player (we'll call him Alan) announces a $600 bet and pushes in his remaining six stacks of red $5 chips. He still has two white $1 chips that remain sitting on his cards, and a lot of people can probably already see where this is going. The dealer announces "$600 all in." The remaining player (call him Bruce) has him covered by about $150 or so, and says "I call." The dealer says "All in and call, action complete" (this dealer is sort of fresh out of poker training, so she's trying to do everything she was taught to do in terms of announcing play, but she's not at all prepared for what's about to happen), and deals out the turn and river. It happens that Alan had a flush draw and missed, while Bruce has top set. However, Alan has called the houseman over. "I wasn't all in, I don't know why she dealt the river. I still have these $2 I was going to bet." Alan is arguing that there should have been action on the turn, that the river was dealt early and should be washed back into the deck, and a new river dealt. The applicable rules here are several. The procedure if a dealer erroneously reveals the flop, turn or river before action is complete is to wash those cards into the deck and re-deal them. It's also a rule that a player can be considered "all in" while still keeping back a single $1 chip to protect his cards, however this rule applies to only a single chip. Alan had two chips. Theoretically, action should not have been complete. However, there's a third rule that's sort of deep in the binder, that states that players have a responsibility to make the dealer aware of any mistake in the action they notice in a timely manner. This rule exists for situations where, for example, the dealer doesn't realize a player still has cards and allows him to stay in a hand without calling a bet. The dealer (mistakenly) announced Alan's $600 bet as an all in, and mistakenly declared action complete. Alan had opportunities to correct her and did not. The result here was tragic. The houseman either didn't know or didn't remember to implement the rule placing responsibility on Alan to correct the dealer. As such, the houseman ruled that the $2 still were live, and that Alan had the right to bet the turn. The river was re-washed, a new river was dealt, and Alan made his flush, winning over $1600 he should not have. A memo was later issued to houseman clarifying that what should have happened is Alan should have been declared all in and not allowed to bet the $2, and should have been counseled against angle-shooting. "Do we believe," the memo asked, "that if the player had made his flush on the river, he'd still have demanded that the card be redrawn so he could bet his $2?" 3) This is a story where I'm the villain, although I consider the other player the real villain. I was playing $1/$2 NLH in a 10-handed ring game, I was seat 1. Seat 9 was wearing headphones and would occasionally drum on the table, which was annoying. More annoying is that he didn't bother to follow the action and the dealer had to work to get his attention when it was his turn to act. The dealer was polite and didn't say anything, but I wasn't working, so it's not my job to be polite. I told the Seat 9 "please, take your headphones out, you're slowing the game down." Seat 9 said "I'm allowed to wear these." I said, "Sure, but you're not following the action and you can't hear the dealer." Seat 9 says, "I can follow the action just fine, shut up and worry about yourself." Okay, fine. A few hands later, I call Seat 9's raise from the big blind with K-5 suited. This was not a good play. The flop came K-9-4 and I bet something like $25, about 2/3 of the pot. Seat 9 doesn't even wait for me to finish my bet before he's throwing a chip in to call. The turn comes a queen. I check, Seat 9 bets $60, and I call. I'm worried I'm beat here. The river comes another king, but it's the third heart as well. I check, and Seat 9 bets another $80. I can't fold for such a small bet. I turn to the dealer and say, audibly, "I call." Then I quickly push my entire stack -- roughly $500 more -- into the middle. Seat 9's got his head phones in and didn't hear me say "call," or hear the dealer say "call," louder, and tosses his cards into the muck before anyone can stop him. When he realizes what happened, he calls the houseman, complaining that he'd mucked a straight because he thought I'd raised. The applicable rule here was that when two actions contradict each other, if one action happened first, it's considered binding, and if it can't be determined which happened first, verbal is always binding. In other words, when I said, audibly, "I call," I was committed to the call, and pushing more chips didn't mean anything. Showdown had been reached at that point, and Seat 9 could have tabled his cards. Once the cards had been mucked, they could not be retrieved. There was discussion about whether my misrepresenting my action by pushing the chips forward should be punished in the same way as if I had misrepresented my hand, but there's no such rule. Further, given that everyone else at the table heard both me and the dealer say "call," the houseman determined that Seat 9 was at fault for misunderstanding. (He'd apparently been at it for quite a while with the headphones and had annoyed multiple dealers already, so the houseman had little patience for him and wasn't about to make a special exception for him -- it was his choice to ignore all audible instructions from the dealer.) The result was that the pot was pushed to the best hand that was tabled -- mine. The houseman made it very clear that I'd better not pull that shit again, though. When I put $40 of Seat 9's money in the tip jar, though, all seemed to be forgiven. Any of you guys have any live casino angle-shooting stories?
MAME 0.223 has finally arrived, and what a release it is – there’s definitely something for everyone! Starting with some of the more esoteric additions, Linus Åkesson’s AVR-based hardware chiptune project and Power Ninja Action Challenge demos are now supported. These demos use minimal hardware to generate sound and/or video, relying on precise CPU timings to work. With this release, every hand-held LCD game from Nintendo’s Game & Watch and related lines is supported in MAME, with Donkey Kong Hockey bringing up the rear. Also of note is the Bassmate Computer fishing aid, made by Nintendo and marketed by Telko and other companies, which is clearly based on the dual-screen Game & Watch design. The steady stream of TV games hasn’t stopped, with a number of French releases from Conny/VideoJet among this month’s batch. For the first time ever, games running on the Barcrest MPU4 video system are emulated well enough to be playable. Titles that are now working include several games based on the popular British TV game show The Crystal Maze, Adders and Ladders, The Mating Game, and Prize Tetris. In a clear win for MAME’s modular architecture, the breakthrough came through the discovery of a significant flaw in our Motorola MC6840 Programmable Timer Module emulation that was causing issues for the Fairlight CMI IIx synthesiser. In the same manner, the Busicom 141-PF desk calculator is now working, thanks to improvements made to Intel 4004 CPU emulation that came out of emulating the INTELLEC 4 development system and the prototype 4004-based controller board for Flicker pinball. The Busicom 141-PF is historically significant, being the first application of Intel’s first microprocessor. Fans of classic vector arcade games are in for a treat this month. Former project coordinator Aaron Giles has contributed netlist-based sound emulation for thirteen Cinematronics vector games: Space War, Barrier, Star Hawk, Speed Freak, Star Castle, War of the Worlds, Sundance, Tail Gunner, Rip Off, Armor Attack, Warrior, Solar Quest and Boxing Bugs. This resolves long-standing issues with the previous simulation based on playing recorded samples. Colin Howell has also refined the sound emulation for Midway’s 280-ZZZAP and Gun Fight. V.Smile joystick inputs are now working for all dumped cartridges, and with fixes for ROM bank selection the V.Smile Motion software is also usable. The accelerometer-based V.Smile Motion controller is not emulated, but the software can all be used with the standard V.Smile joystick controller. Another pair of systems with inputs that now work is the original Macintosh (128K/512K/512Ke) and Macintosh Plus. These systems’ keyboards are now fully emulated, including the separate numeric keypad available for the original Macintosh, the Macintosh Plus keyboard with integrated numeric keypad, and a few European ISO layout keyboards for the original Macintosh. There are still some emulation issues, but you can play Beyond Dark Castle with MAME’s Macintosh Plus emulation again. In other home computer emulation news, MAME’s SAM Coupé driver now supports a number of peripherals that connect to the rear expansion port, a software list containing IRIX hard disk installations for SGI MIPS workstations has been added, and tape loading now works for the Specialist system (a DIY computer designed in the USSR). Of course, there’s far more to enjoy, and you can read all about it in the whatsnew.txt file, or get the source and 64-bit Windows binary packages from the download page. (For brevity, promoted V.Smile software list entries and new Barcrest MPU4 clones made up from existing dumps have been omitted here.)
MAME Testers Bugs Fixed
02603: [Sound] (cinemat.cpp) tailg: Phasor sample plays incorrectly. (Aaron Giles)
Toy Story 3 (Lexibook) [Sean Riddle, Kamaal Brown, David Haywood]
unknown 'TE06' [TeamEurope, Roberto Fresca]
Unknown Compumatic ProSPDP based darts machine [jordigahan, ClawGrip]
VideoJet Kiu Games [Sean Riddle, David Haywood]
Virtual TV Ping Pong [TeamEurope, David Haywood]
Yataimura Kingyosukui (4-player, China, Ver 1.000) [Darksoft]
New clones marked as NOT_WORKING
Anakonda [Robbbert]
Funhouse (L-2) [PinMAME]
Funhouse (L-2, prototype PA-1 System 11 sound) [PinMAME]
Kharkovsky [Robbbert]
Laser Ball (L-2, PROM sound) [PinMAME]
Last Action Hero (1.04 France) [PinMAME]
Last Action Hero (1.07) [José Renato Castro Milanez, Sergio Munemori]
Magic Card - Wien (Sicherheitsversion 1.2) [TeamEurope, Roberto Fresca]
Nove Diamante (bootleg) [Ioannis Bampoulas]
Unga [Robbbert]
New working software list additions
fmtowns_cd: Akiko - Premium Version, Cal III - Kanketsu-hen, Chiemi & Naomi, Curse, Eikan wa Kimi ni 2 - Koukou Yakyuu Zenkoku Taikai, FM Towns Application Catalog CD-ROM - Original Soft-hen, G5 (HMA-206), Gambler - Queen's Cup, Gokuraku Mandala, Hyper Fetishism, Illust Hyakka - Yamashita Hideki no Ikiiki Cut-shuu, Iris-tei Serenade, Jouhou Club - Card Processor Ver. 1.1, Mahjong Musashi, Manami no Doko made Iku no? 2 - Return of the Kuro Pack, The Manhole (1990-08-01), Marionette Mind, Mirage 2 - Torry, Neat & Roan Fairladies in MagicLand, Noushuku Angel 120%, Shamhat - The Holy Circlet (FM Towns Marty version), Tenshin Ranma, Two Shot Diary, Viper-V12 RS, Viper-V8 Turbo RS, YES! HG - Erotic Voice Version [redump.org, r09]
gba:
Rayman IV (Rayman - Sunshine of Trip) (unlicensed) (protection hacked) [RibShark]
Crash Advance IV (unlicensed) (protection hacked), Digimon - Ruby and Sapphire (unlicensed) (protection hacked), The Lord of the Rings IV - The Fellowship of the Ring (unlicensed) (protection hacked), Pokemon - Sapphire Version (unlicensed) (protection hacked), Rayman IV (Rayman - Puteshestviye Solnechnogo Sveta) (unlicensed) (Russian) (protection hacked), Sonic 3 - Fighter Sonic (unlicensed) (protection hacked), Super Mario DX (unlicensed) (protection hacked), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2 (unlicensed) (protection hacked), Ultraman - Confrontation Between Justice And Evil (Ul'traman - Konfrontatsiya mezhdu spravedlivost'yu i zlom) (unlicensed) (Russian) (protection hacked), X-Man - Armour of Might (X-men) (unlicensed) (Russian) (protection hacked) [taizou]
Bloodwych (Quest & Glory Compilation) (Euro), Bloodwych (USA), Budokan - The Martial Spirit (5.25"), The Colonel's Bequest (3.5"), The Colonel's Bequest (5.25"), Dragon's Lair (5.25"), F29 Retaliator, Lakers vs Celtics and the NBA Playoffs (3.5"), Leisure Suit Larry Goes Looking for Love (in Several Wrong Places) (5.25"), Leisure Suit Larry in the Land of the Lounge Lizards, Mario Andretti's Racing Challenge, Speedball 2 - Brutal Deluxe (Euro, 3.5"), TV Sports Basketball (3.5", USA, EGA/TANDY version), TV Sports Basketball (3.5", USA, VGA version), TV Sports Basketball (5.25", UK, EGA/TANDY version), TV Sports Basketball (5.25", UK, VGA version), Xenon 2: Megablast [ArcadeShadow]
SCO XENIX System V Development System version 2.1.3 [archive.org, Davide Cavalca]
IBM Personal Computer Interactive Executive (PC/IX) 1.00 [WinWorld, Davide Cavalca]
ibm5170: B-17 Flying Fortress (5.25"), Corridor 7: Alien Invasion (demo), Maniac Mansion: Day of the Tentacle (France), Out of this World (USA, 3.5" DD), Out of this World (USA, 5.25" HD), Sam & Max Hit the Road (Germany) [ArcadeShadow]
pc98_cd: F15 Strike Eagle III, if 2 - Invitations from Fantastic Stories, Manami no Doko made Iku no? 2 - Return of the Kuro Pack, Phobos, Pro Student G (ALS-0010), YES! HG - Erotic Voice Version, Yuurou - Transient Sands [redump.org, r09]
sgi_mips:
Desktop Special Edition 1.0, European Language Module 1.1, European Language Module 1.3.1, Hot Mix 5, Hot Mix 7, IndiZone 1.0, IRIX 5.2 for Indy R4600PC and Challenge SX, IRIX Patch 5.1.1.2, ONC3/NFS for IRIX 6.2 Version 1, ONC3/NFS for IRIX 6.2 with Indigo2 IMPACT 10000 Version 1, Support Advantage 10/94, Support Advantage 6/95, SupportFolio 2/97, SupportFolio 4/97 [darkstar]
Disney/Pixar Wall-E (China) [tenyuhuang, Ryan Holtz]
Les Bisounours - Le monde merveilleux des Bisounours (France), Nickelodeon Bob L'éponge - Une journée dans la vie d'une éponge (France) [DisizDream]
vsmilem_cart:
Disney/Pixar Cars 2 (France), Disney/Pixar Toy Story 3 (France), DreamWorks Kung Fu Panda - La mission de Po (France), Football Challenge (France), Martin Le Dauphin (France), Nickelodeon Dora L'Exploratrice - Les adventures de Dora Apprentie Mécano (France), Sporti'Folies (France) [DisizDream, Ryan Holtz]
Action Mania (USA), Disney/Pixar Toy Story 3 (USA), Marvel Spider-Man & Friends - Secret Missions (USA), Soccer Challenge (USA) [Sean Riddle, TeamEurope, Ryan Holtz]
mobigo_cart: Disney Jake and the Neverland Pirates (USA, alt), Disney Princess (USA, alt), Disney/Pixar Brave (USA), Dreamworks Shrek - Forever After (US), NAND User Cartridge (unknown data, set 1), NAND User Cartridge (unknown data, set 2), Sesame Street - Elmo and Abby - Nature Explorers (USA) [TeamEurope]
novag_ssensor4: Quartz Chess Clock [Berger]
pc98_cd: DOR Special Edition '93, DOR Special Edition '93 (alt), Kanji Land 3-nen, Kyrandia II - The Hand of Fate, Lemon Cocktail Collection, Lip 3 - Lipstick Adventure 3, Mirage 2 - Torry, Neat & Roan Fairladies in MagicLand [redump.org, r09]
pi_storyreader_cart: Disney Blanca Nieves y los siete enanos (Spain), Disney El Rey León (Spain), Walt Disney Peter Pan (Spain) [TeamEurope, ClawGrip]
tvgogo:
Basketball (EU) [ClawGrip, TeamEurope]
Basketball (US) [Sean Riddle, David Haywood]
vsmileb_cart: Teletubbies (France) [DisizDream]
Merged pull requests
6825: docs: Improved analog joystick mapping documentation, and added health warnings. [Firehawke]
6837: debugger: Added loadr and saver commands for loading or saving data to/from a memory region. [bombzj]
6838: fmtowns_cd.xml: Added 28 new entries, and replaced 22 entries with improved dumps. [redump.org, r09]
6844: gigatron: Hooked up CPU output callback, fixed program counter wrapping, and added CPU input callback. [Sterophonick]
My first real taste of poker came in grade 10. I was maybe fifteen, sixteen at the time, and we organized a five card draw game during second period spare. Eventually we got busted by the teachers. I was eighteen when the poker boom hit. My friends and I played $5 SNGs and WPT Tournaments were a big deal on TV. Then a .10/.25 NLHE home game (some nights .25/.50). This game was classic. Actually I played a rather effective loose aggro style at the time. Well I would switch gears, a bit looser early on, some bluffs, and then straight value towards the end of the night. Really we didn't know anything, but we the great thing about poker is you only have to be slightly better than your opponents. There was a raked 1/2 game in my town, the Rounders Club or something they called themselves, that I cut my eyeteeth on. Then casino trips. I remember sitting down at a 5/10 limit hold'em game. This was so long ago people actually played limit hold'em. One day there was a tournament in town, someone had rented a warehouse and set up a tournament. I busted in the tournament with an underpair to the top pair, but with the $200 I had left in my pockets I cleaned up on the cash game, playing 1/2 with a bunch of degenerate cabbies. I'd swing crazy amounts online. I was still in high school the first time I ran up a tiny amount of money to three grand on pokerstars, before losing it all quickly. I was fairly degenerate at that age, but we were young and invincible. I went broke a bunch of times, and then scraped together a bankroll and grinded online. At one point I moved to Niagara Falls to try my hand at live poker. It went pretty decently for a couple of months. It was full ring NLHE, and the games were very soft, filled with rich tourists. I was living in a nearby hotel and grinding the casino all day. One day I tried my hand at blackjack and lost almost ten grand. I had a ton of cash on me, from all my poker winnings, and I started degening on blackjack for a while. I ran pretty good and had a stash of 5k chips. Then I started losing a bunch of my profits back. That is when I learned about card counting online. With my history at the casino as a whale, I was able to count full time in the high limit room for about ten days straight. And any time the count started to drop I would just hop to another table. There was always a new deck, ready to go. So I played A TON of rounds. And my poker career had steeled me not to hit and run. And I play very fast. The result was a huge winning streak. I was using a fairly aggressive spread, 1 to 16 on black. By the time they banned me I had around $200,000. Paranoid, I spent that night in a hotel. From that point I was backed off, so I travelled Canada playing blackjacked, getting backed off and banned with my high stakes action. more to come
SimCasino is in early access. I was curious if the devs have any kind of a road map for features they plan to add in to the game. But in the meantime, here are some ideas I'd love to see implemented one way or another...
Poker Room. This should be a zone-able room. I could potentially make the same case for blackjack and other table games, for the sake of being able to set the same rules for a whole room full of similar games without setting the rules for the entire casino, but I think poker especially should have a room. A poker room would allow a poker desk where the poker room manager handles making/breaking tables. Instead of the player deciding how many tables are Hold'em or Omaha or whatever other game, the player can select what games are allowed at the poker desk and let the poker floor manager run the making & breaking of games (this is how it works in real life). Additionally, a poker room would allow the tables in a specific area to be connected to each other in order to allow for poker tournaments. Poker tournaments are generally less profitable for casinos than normal cash games, but they can help the poker room fill up empty tables at otherwise less busy times.
Spas, shopping malls, restaurants, golfing, sports arena (boxing, mma, etc), convention center. Lots of casinos, especially in Las Vegas, aren't casinos so much full featured resorts that happen to also have a casino attached.
Megaprizes. Think National Lampoons Vegas Vacation where Russ ("Papa Giorgio") keeps winning the cars. It'd be great to be able to pop in a car attached to a slot machine that serves as both a gambling interaction point for guests, but also decor and entertainment. It'd basically be a jackpot-only slot machine. It could be a car. It could be a giant oversized slot machine with a huge jackpot.
Standalone restaurants. Unless I'm missing something, the only dining option currently is a buffet. It's probably the best option if you only have the one option, but one of my favorite parts about visiting Las Vegas is actually the food. All of the casinos are full of restaurants under the name of celebrity chefs. Looking at just Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas, there are 2 Gordon Ramsay restaurants, 1 Bobby Flay, 1 Guy Savoy, and a few others by less famous yet still celebrity chefs. And that's just Caesar's Palace alone.
VIPs. Whether famous professional poker players or just general celebrities, it'd be neat to have the opportunity to attract them as a visitor which in turn could drive more normal guests to your casino. To a degree, this could even have your casino develop a reputation (think modern Rat Pack?).
Events. Ocean's 11 style heists. Super Bowl weekend overflowing your SportsBook. Major poker tournaments (special higher limits versions of the poker tournaments mentioned above, think like WSOP, WPT, etc). Major conventions in town spiking demand for business guests. Downturn in economy just overall reducing demand across the board. These would all be events outside of the player's control. But there should also be promotional events the player's can run to encourage certain kinds of behaviors. This would include aforementioned poker tournaments.. but weirdly, casinos also have slot machine tournaments. Casinos also can do things like give away "free" chips when you check in to a hotel room or for signing up with the player's club (I say free because usually they're special chips that can't actually be cashed out, but can be used at the table games [other than poker] as if they were real).
A more fully fledged tech tree. I'd kind of like to immediately build blackjack tables without any research. But also other table games would have to be researched. Also, additional rules for blackjack (that ultimately improve the profitability of the table) should be researched. Meanwhile, with slot machines, we should start with slot machines that aren't even in the game yet (the ones with the 3 spinners, 3 lines and you need to make a line or diagonal, with cherry, bar, etc.). These get researched into 5 spinners, 5 lines and then you can go to the computer poker machines (which are in the game) and more modern fully digital slot machines and stuff. With slot machines, after the ones with the physical spinners, the research would be more along the lines of unlocking the different themes for them.
Roaming staff. I don't know, maybe I'm not there in the game yet... but generally in a casino, you have servers walking around trying to bring alcohol to patrons (and in the poker rooms and sports books, this can even include full food deliveries from the restaurants). In Las Vegas, this is free in every casino I've ever been in. Outside of Vegas, you typically still have to pay for the alcohol, but nonetheless someone is bringing it to you... because the casino wants you sat in front of that slot machine continuing to feed it.
At the Holy Grail Casino, you gamble with a lot more than money
"King-high diamond flush," I said boldly as I laid my cards out on the table. Despite my strong hand, my heart still thumped in my chest as I waited for the only other player in the hand to reveal his cards. Although my odds of winning were good, I was nervous. If my opponent had the ace... "Ace-high diamond flush," my train of thought was disrupted and heart my sank. My opponent had the goddamn ace. Unlike any other time I had played Texas Hold 'Em at a casino, I had no idea what to expect. See, I wasn't at a normal casino. I was at the Holy Grail Casino, where one does not gamble with money. My opponent had wagered a finger, and I thought that that had been some colloquial way of making a small bet. Just as we frequently say "an arm and a leg" figuratively for an exorbitant cost, I thought that 'finger' was being used in the same context. I was proven brutally wrong when the dealer, without a hint of emotion, pulled a large knife out from some concealed location and chopped my pinky finger off. I screamed, both in pain and disbelief. I had been expecting the most intense gambling experience of a life time, but I hadn't imagined anything of this magnitude. I had finally found a form of gambling even I balked at. I'll come clean and say it, I'm a compulsive gambler. I've had an enduring fixation on Lady Luck as early as I can remember. As a child, I loved making bets - even small and petty ones - with my peers. When I was eighteen, and had my first job, I squandered a bigger portion of my very first paycheck than I care to admit on scratch-off lottery tickets. With my addictive proclivities, I ignored the glaring net financial loss that this incurred, instead gravitating to the mere twenty dollars I did win with those tickets. Now you can tell me that my gambling winnings are heavily outweighed by my losses over the years, and you'd be right. It's a stubborn fact that cannot be truthfully denied. But it didn't matter to me. I was addicted to gambling. I was always convinced that the big, life-changing win I needed was right around the corner. It is this lifelong habit that has not only brought about a life of financial strain, but which, I fear, has brought about my imminent appointment with my own mortality. You see, my gambling problem reached its zenith last year after I cajoled one of my poker friends, Dallas, into taking me to a secretive and high-stakes casino that he frequently spoke of, and this is as good a place as any to begin telling what happened. "So, is this the night you're finally going to accede and tell me more about the mythical 'high stakes venue' you claim to frequent, Mr. Big Shot?" I asked my friend Dallas. Dallas was a pro at gambling. At least, he swept the floor with the competition nine times out of ten and the backroom card games we frequented. Dallas groaned loudly in the passager seat. "Come on bro," I said doggedly, "you can't just set something up on a pedestal like this and not expect someone to persist." "I don't know man. This isn't kitty shit. This is the big leagues." Dallas answered. "I'm not a lightweight." I objected. "No...but this is way more than anything we'd ever bet back there," he said, referring to our backroom games, one of which we had just left. "This is the real shit. Hard-fucking-core. This is the most hardcore gambling around." Dallas continued. "Like what, Russian Roulette?" I joked. "Nah man." Dallas said cryptically. "Look man, I give you rides to these games every week. You owe me." I was getting seriously annoyed at his reticence. "Fine," Dallas groaned, exasperated. I couldn't believe it. I had actually worn him down! "But I'm warning you. This is serious shit." Dallas said sternly. "I want to go." I said firmly. Dallas reached into his wallet and handed me a medallion. Upon inspection, I saw one side was affixed with the design of an ornate, bejeweled chalice with the words 'Holy Grail Casino' written above it. On the other side, written in elegant calligraphy was the phrase 'omnem marmora' - "all the marbles" in Latin. This certainly bore the look of a ritzy and exclusionary place. I had a feeling I'd either win the jackpot of jackpots or end up homeless on the street. The reality would prove much worse than the latter. Dallas was looking at me oddly, almost as if he was worried. But he could tell he wasn't going to be able to talk me out of it. I still hate him for his acquiescence to my pestering. "When can we go?" I asked excitedly. "I was planning to go tomorrow-," Dallas started. "When I should I pick you up?" I interrupted. "That's...not how we get there." Dallas answered. "What-," I started, but it was Dallas' turn to interrupt. "When you go to bed tomorrow night, write your full name on a piece of paper, then put it and the medallion in your pocket when you go to sleep." I looked at him incredulously. Had he been fucking with me this whole time? "Look...just trust me. Either do it or don't, but that's how you get there." Dallas said matter-of-factly. I looked silently at the road as we neared the place where Dallas lived. Dallas seemed to be pensively looking out the window, as if he was debating whether or not he should have give me the medallion. I dropped Dallas off without a word and raced home. I don't know why I was such a hurry - I guess I wanted to start waiting for tomorrow night as soon as possible. After a torturous day of waiting, the next night finally came. Remembering Dallas' instructions, I wrote my full name on a slip of paper and placed it, along with the medallion, in the pockets of my sweatpants that I was wearing to bed for that purpose. I could have sworn that I had heard my name being chanted as I drifted off to sleep, but the authenticity of those sounds is still ambiguous. What is not ambiguous is the fact that, shortly after falling asleep, I found myself in an opulent red-carpeted casino. I was in a lobby of sorts, at least I think that's what it was. I was in a large, marble room with Greco-Roman style columns flanking a plush red carpet that led to two magnificent ebony doors, which boasted intricately carved ivory handles. As I was soaking in the amazing luxurious sight, a man in a suit briskly approached me. "You can't go to the floor dressed like that!" He admonished me, pointing to my sweatpants and white t-shirt. "I'm sorry-," I began sluggishly, a bit confused by everything. Was I honestly expected to go to bed in a suit in order to gamble here? "No worries sir," the man had a rather upper class accent, "we will get you outfitted here free of charge." A short while later I was sporting a fine burgundy suit, a white dress shirt, and black loafers, and being led by the casino worker back to those grandiose doors. He stopped in front of them, held one of the doors open, and ushered me in. "Enjoy your stay sir," he said as he closed the door behind me. I took in the even more impressive sight that was the gambling floor. I stood at the top of a red-carpeted staircase with gilded railing, looking down at a large room. On the far end, the words 'Holy Grail Casino' were displayed prominently on the wall, illuminated by spotlights. Like the lobby, a red carpet ran through the center, bisecting the impressive layout of games and tables. Interestingly, there didn't appear to be any slot machines- there seemed to be exclusively traditional games. Poker tables, blackjack tables, roulette wheels, and craps tables I all recognized. Finally, I descended the stairs. The patrons and staff paid me little attention as I set foot on the floor. I briefly scanned the floor for Dallas but saw no saw no sign of him. I shrugged and decided to jump into the games. All around me, finely dressed patrons were engrossed in their games, and others stood to the side, nursing cocktail glasses or puffing on cigars. I had never had much of an affinity for roulette or craps, and I avoided blackjack like the plague (it's definitely rigged for the house). Accordingly, I quickly settled on poker. After eyeing several tables I settled on a table occupied by just one patron - an uninterested old man in a black suit. "Can I join here?" I asked. The dealer replied affirmatively. I sat down and noticed there were no chips in sight. I thought it had been odd that I hadn't received any, but I had just figured they would be given at the table. Curious, I asked. "First time?" The dealer raised an eyebrow. "Yes." The old man sighed, annoyed. What the hell? Shouldn't a patron at such a purportedly high-stakes venue be eager to have fresh meat? "Well, the rules state that one's first game is one round of betting only." The dealer said in a monotone voice. No wonder old man was annoyed. I nodded and sat down. "But the chips-," I began to inquire. "We don't use 'em here." The old man spoke for the first time. Before I ask what we did use, the old man placed what would apparently be the sole bet of this hand: a finger. Had I heard him right? He couldn't actually mean- "Bet is one finger." The dealer said, interrupting my thoughts. As I stated in the beginning, I assumed that 'a finger' was being used in the same figurative context that one often uses the term 'an arm and a leg.' I called the bet. The cards were dealt, and I felt confident as I laid out the King-high flush I spoke of in the beginning. But then came the old man's ace-high flush, and then came the chop. I screamed. To my shock, none of the other patrons even looked up from their games at the sound of my screams and the chop. Was this an ordinary occurrence? Before I could get up from the table, the dealer also procured some sort of ointment and quickly dabbed some on the nub where my finger had been. The bleeding instantly stopped, and the pain eased, but I was having none of it. I got up from the table and began to run back to the doors. This was too much. I had to get out of here. I heard a despaired howl coming from the direction of the roulette wheels as I made it back to the center of the floor, but didn't dare look back at the source. I stepped onto the carpet and set for the stairs when I nearly collided with Dallas. "Hey you made it!" He said. "Oooh tough break with the finger," he indicated my hand. "How have you never lost anything?!" I asked pointedly, barely resisting the urge to shake his shoulders. "Well I have," Dallas smirked. "You-you have all your digits." I sputtered. "Well that's cause I won them back." He said. "You can win them back?!" I was in disbelief. "Of course, they'll reattach it if you win one." I should have just cut my losses. I shouldn't have been swayed by temptation. But if you know the rabbit hole that is gambling, you'll know how much people put themselves in the hole vainly trying to win back a negligible loss, all the while turning that negligible loss into something substantial. I was still weighing my options (stay or quit while still ahead) when a booming voice disrupted my deliberation. "Attention floor! We have a class ten loser! Death!" He couldn't actually mean- Before I could make any kind of move, the patrons become a mob, and the wave people pushed Dallas and I to the center with them. A man, who I noticed was already missing an arm, was on his knees sobbing. An emotionless casino dealer stood before him, holding a sword. "Everyone c-cut y-your loss-losses," the man stuttered through sobs. Before he could say anything else, the sobs were cut off by the slice of the sword, and the poor man's head hit the floor and tumbled, landing at my feet.
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