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Gambling Problem

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I was the master of all those games. I played craps, roulette, blackjack, all kinds of poker, even slots; you name it, I won it. Some people thought I cheated, so I've been questioned by security on a regular basis, even banned by some casinos. Once, someone got so mad at me, I was hit in the head with a beer bottle. Can you believe I managed to send one casino into a near-bankruptcy position? Impressive, I know. I remember the games I've lost more often than those that I've won, and those times are few.

But, the worst loss ever, except for that time where I almost won that $100k, was my last game ever played. I entered a brand new casino, a grand, tall building in my hometown, Madison. I hadn't been "home" in two years, which is why I probably hadn't heard of this place. I visited my parents and old friends who hadn't left the area, and that night, I went to try my luck.

Entering the building, a little overconfident and eager, I met a man not too far in at the admittance desk. He was a blonde man with a pair of pitch-black sunglasses and a black suit with a red tie. He asked me to sign a contract agreeing to some standards I didn't bother to read, being impatient. I signed quickly at the bottom in red ink, odd for a black pen, and something didn't feel right inside, but I shrugged it off.

There was quite a bit of games there, everything from Yahtzee to Texas Hold Em to a small betting ring in the corner focused intently on a soccer game being shown on a plasma on the wall. There was blackjack, some sort of solitaire, and games from around the world I'd never even heard of! I was so excited, and I didn't know where to start. After ten or so minutes of wandering, I chose this odd game called "Capital." There was this sheet of seemingly complicated rules, but since I was still so eager, I didn't feel like reading too much of it. I figured I should just roll those dice and let my luck guide me.

I took a shot at it, placing my bet at a couple thousand dollars in chips. The dealer-type person, who seemed familiar, put up one thousand, and I won all three thousand. I noticed one chip in particular that interested me. It had sort of a blood red ring, a black inner, and an odd looking skull in the center. I thought it wasn't a good idea, but I didn't think it mattered. I held it up to the dealer-type person.

"How much does this represent?" I asked.

As if surprised that I asked him, he replied, "Oh, well... a lot."

Figuring that since there was only one of them, it had to be worth quite a bit, so I threw it up and out on the table, along with $5k.

"Wow," the dealer-type guy said, "are you sure?"

"Yep, let's do this."

I rolled the pair of dice, and just as I thought I was going to win the four thousand the other guy put up, I ended up with two ones. That couldn't be good at all. I look up at him and his eyes are wide, and he literally has an ear to ear grin. I recognized him then as the guy at the admittance desk.

"Um... how much do I owe you?" I asked, completely unsure and a little worried.

"Your soul, son."

"Excuse me?"

He then raised up the contract I signed earlier.

"Take a closer look."

So I did, and I must've read the entire thing four times over in disbelief. I looked down, about to cry, and I saw three chips, spelling out the number: "666." Before I could proclaim it cheesy, everything went black and cold. Now I feel around the underworld, blind and deaf and mute, but full of wisdom I cannot share normally. Good thing I can write. And one more thing:

A fool and his soul are soon parted.

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