Your plan is to bet low. Keep it simple. Hope for the best. Six has always been your lucky number. Lucky. Sounds like a joke now. But maybe that number will help you in this situation. You aren't sure why you didn't start with that one. Come on, Lady Luck.

The click of the roulette wheel clanks through the dimly lit casino. As the ball spins, your heart is clenched with dread and anticipation.

You lean in.

Eyes locked on the numbers.

Silently willing the ball to land on six.

The whole table is suffocating in nervous energy. You hold your breath as the ball closes in on its fateful drop.

The ball slows, bouncing between the numbered slots before finally settling into place. You stare at it, hearing your heartbeat in your ears.

The croupier calls out the winning number, "Black. Seventeen!" Your souls feels like it has just dropped out of your body. It is actually physically painful. How much time did you just lose? You aren't sure. Yet you felt it. You slide off your stool, seemingly in a trance and back away from the table. You aren't sure what to do with yourself. You just feel hollow. You know this is not for you.

You drift away from the table altogether and aimlessly wander between the games. You have no destination in mind. Just listening to the dings and sobs of people you pass along the way.

"Tough luck, my guy." The dark Hat Man appears at your side. "Care to take another try?" You say nothing as he dances around you like a wound-up jester. "I've got a game with a bit of more rizz. I'll hold up a card and you guess what it is!"

You feel it. He's mocking you. And he's enjoying it. The weaker everyone becomes here, the more thrilled he seems to be. Instead of fear, you feel yourself getting angry. Who is he to put you through this? Just some clown with a very outdated mustache. You refuse to be mocked by a man that wears this much glitter.

To accept his game - Select page 23

To take a swing at the Hat Man - Select page 25