Categories > Original > Drama
Sin City
“Black Jack.” John coolly said. As that casino chips were being shifted across the table. Menacing eyes darted on him like knives that were thrown by the other players. They kept glaring at him with envy. Then the dealer again shuffled the cards into the deck with easy dexterity that made it look effortless. The game lasted for another two rounds.
“I give up.” A guy at the end of the table said. “It’s not worth losing everything to a lucky bastard” he mumbled. He ended and left.
In the end only two people were left. John and the dealer. John, who was holding a cart of chips on his left, swaying it back and forth.
“Sir, you’re the best player that I’ve ever met.” The dealer said.
“It’s all about skill but not just that, every game requires a little bit of luck.” John replied then turned left, approaching the exchange counter.
Neon lights glittered and glowed above the ceilings, they were almost blinding. The atmosphere was hushed, exclusive and endlessly exciting. Seeing gambling men in their dark expensive suits whooped around the roulette table like teenagers hanging out. They yelled and hollered at the tiny ball that spun in the wheel. Hoping on the outcome.
Las Vegas Nevada was the right place to get into the world. Maybe be that why it’s called Sin City. A place full of casinos and hotels where people win and lose every in one throw down. What a great place?
John laid the chips on the counter. The woman who tended the counter took a shock after seeing so much chips that she never seen in her life. Of course she would, most people had gone in loaded and got out empty-handed. Talking about shame. She got up and carried the basket of chip to the counting machine, struggling in her three-inch high heels. Wobbling the whole way. After tossing the chips in she diligently pressed a couple of buttons that had flickered in red lights. Dozens of zeroes appeared that summed up to 50 million dollars. That’s a lot for one night if I may say so. Trying to keep her composed as she got five suitcases, from the giant metal vault to giving them to John.
“Thank you.” John smiled at, her making her blush. He reached in to the case then slipped his right hand to the woman’s, leaving a hundred dollar bill.
“Here’s a little something for you. I hope we meet again.” Not he was lying to her face. He would never want to see her again. Her face was like something that you would see in a horror movie. Something sullen, he would never personally say that she will need to get plastic surgery to get her face right. Behind the back of his mind he was actually puking. It was really nasty.
John began to walk towards the exit as people stared at him. Some looks were envious, and others were impressed by the cases of cash. Stepping out, a man in a red vest approached. The valet handed the keys to the car that was parked in front. It was a Ferrari Sports Car. The paintjob was red hot the kind of red that you need to ride it so badly. It was a car that was everybody’s dream.
John grabbed the keys and kept them hanging on his index finger. “It’s still not enough” He said to himself.
He started up the engine in a great drawl and stepped on the gas pedal. And speeded down the Highway. He rolled the windows down for the road trip feeling to take effect. His hair flowed with the wind in fast speed, and his skin pressed back. Coolly plain was his day, composed by kicking ass and taking names that kind of thing. Not that it really mattered. But right now he didn’t know to waste time on, it was just boring. Now on the road going straight but one thing’s for sure is……..
Next stop New York.
End of Prolog.
“Black Jack.” John coolly said. As that casino chips were being shifted across the table. Menacing eyes darted on him like knives that were thrown by the other players. They kept glaring at him with envy. Then the dealer again shuffled the cards into the deck with easy dexterity that made it look effortless. The game lasted for another two rounds.
“I give up.” A guy at the end of the table said. “It’s not worth losing everything to a lucky bastard” he mumbled. He ended and left.
In the end only two people were left. John and the dealer. John, who was holding a cart of chips on his left, swaying it back and forth.
“Sir, you’re the best player that I’ve ever met.” The dealer said.
“It’s all about skill but not just that, every game requires a little bit of luck.” John replied then turned left, approaching the exchange counter.
Neon lights glittered and glowed above the ceilings, they were almost blinding. The atmosphere was hushed, exclusive and endlessly exciting. Seeing gambling men in their dark expensive suits whooped around the roulette table like teenagers hanging out. They yelled and hollered at the tiny ball that spun in the wheel. Hoping on the outcome.
Las Vegas Nevada was the right place to get into the world. Maybe be that why it’s called Sin City. A place full of casinos and hotels where people win and lose every in one throw down. What a great place?
John laid the chips on the counter. The woman who tended the counter took a shock after seeing so much chips that she never seen in her life. Of course she would, most people had gone in loaded and got out empty-handed. Talking about shame. She got up and carried the basket of chip to the counting machine, struggling in her three-inch high heels. Wobbling the whole way. After tossing the chips in she diligently pressed a couple of buttons that had flickered in red lights. Dozens of zeroes appeared that summed up to 50 million dollars. That’s a lot for one night if I may say so. Trying to keep her composed as she got five suitcases, from the giant metal vault to giving them to John.
“Thank you.” John smiled at, her making her blush. He reached in to the case then slipped his right hand to the woman’s, leaving a hundred dollar bill.
“Here’s a little something for you. I hope we meet again.” Not he was lying to her face. He would never want to see her again. Her face was like something that you would see in a horror movie. Something sullen, he would never personally say that she will need to get plastic surgery to get her face right. Behind the back of his mind he was actually puking. It was really nasty.
John began to walk towards the exit as people stared at him. Some looks were envious, and others were impressed by the cases of cash. Stepping out, a man in a red vest approached. The valet handed the keys to the car that was parked in front. It was a Ferrari Sports Car. The paintjob was red hot the kind of red that you need to ride it so badly. It was a car that was everybody’s dream.
John grabbed the keys and kept them hanging on his index finger. “It’s still not enough” He said to himself.
He started up the engine in a great drawl and stepped on the gas pedal. And speeded down the Highway. He rolled the windows down for the road trip feeling to take effect. His hair flowed with the wind in fast speed, and his skin pressed back. Coolly plain was his day, composed by kicking ass and taking names that kind of thing. Not that it really mattered. But right now he didn’t know to waste time on, it was just boring. Now on the road going straight but one thing’s for sure is……..
Next stop New York.
End of Prolog.
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