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Setting at the casino bar, Harold stared at the $100 token. He chuckled to himself. He always seemed to have luck for others. You hear about people that have a sixth sense, and ask why they don’t use that sixth sense to help themselves out of poverty. For Harold it never seemed to work that way. Oh he tried, but anytime his actions pointed towards self-gain despair would root its ugly head.

He spun around in his seat and scanned the casino for his next victim. A lonely elderly lady sat at the Blackjack table with a good amount of coins that were ripe for the taking. Of course we are talking about the dealer taking them and not our dice joint hero. Speaking of dice, the Craps table looked promising. A well suited man was rolling high and it seemed as though nothing could stop him.

“Challenge accepted.” Harold whispered. His thin lips exposed his yellow teeth through a devilish grin.

Harold stepped up to the side of the Craps table. Arrogance was Harold’s bane. He couldn’t stand someone gloating about not losing.

“I can’t be shut down Mister Casino Man.” The suited gentleman stated. “Blow on my dice and give me another 5.”

A cute petite woman blew into his hand, and the dice were rolled. 2 and a 3 were facing up. The table erupted, and the suit began badgering the dealer once more. Harold had seen enough. It was time to shut this guy down.

The suit picked up the dice. “7 or 11 baby! Come on!” With that he flung the dice.

“And let there be a two.” Harold said

The dice stopped with two 1’s facing up. Everyone at the table moaned.

The suit looked at Harold. “I don’t remember inviting you to my table Bud.”

“You didn’t. And there’s no rule against me being here. Unless you can’t take the pressure.” He retorted.

“Pressure? What pressure. An old man in an old suit thinks he can pressure me?”

“So you don’t mind if I call out your next three dice, and stay to watch them?” Harold asked.

The suit look at the crowd. Everyone was looking at him, and waiting for his response. “Sure, you can stay. And, I’ll beat you at your own game. You can’t control my fate.”

“Fair enough.” Harold conceded. “You will roll a 9, a 5, then a 7.”

“So you don’t think I can roll a double before hitting a 7?” The suit asked as he picked up his dice. “Here!” And with that the suit rolled a 4 and a 5.

The table erupted in laughter. How could this old man have known? The dealer quickly slid the dice back to the suit. The suit scowled at Harold as he made his proclamations for a win. This time he even had his arm girl blow the dice. A 1 and a 4 faced up. Now the crowd was taking the situation more seriously. Could the old man be right? Could the suit’s winning streak be broken? The dealer slid the dice and  everyone was quiet. The silence and anticipation drew more people to the table. Something big was about to happen. The suit picked up the dice. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“So what’s it going to be old man. 2 and a 5, or a 3 and a 4.”

Harold smiled. “1 and a 6.”

The suit shouted “FIVE OR A NINE!” as he through the dice.

To his dismay his was rewarded with a 1 and a 6. In unison everyone shouted “OHHHHHH!”

Harold walked away from the table and moved to the old lady at the Black Jack table.

“Split your pair.” He whispered to the lady. Her pile had dwindled substantially.

She gave Harold a confused look, then split the pair. The lady looked at him. She had two kings in front over her. “Hit” she said. “My son thinks we’re about to hit 21 two times.”

The dealer hit each king. Dumbfounded he looked at the two improbable aces.

“Let’s go home mom.” Harold said as he headed towards the door.


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