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You stroll up to the first craps table, with your mortgage in plastic chips cradled in your arms. You dump it onto a number and the dealer passes you the dice for your throw, as a busty blonde sidles up next to you.
Prestidigitatiously you switch the dice with your own, and you throw them the length
of the table towards the dealer. Everyone gasps as they make their final tumble.
"Snake-eyes", calls the dealer and is deafend by a sudden explosion and blinded by a billowing cloud of smoke as you make your escape with yours and few others' bets in your possession. The blonde in tow.
Detonating Two Die was the best investment you ever made. However, with casino security the way it is this is suicide gambling at its best.
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"It was Colin's first day at the cash desk. He saw no objection to cashing a large pile of chips for a man in a hurry in the immediate aftermath of an explosion." |
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Wouldn't a two-die be a coin? |
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You stroll up the the poker table and have a seat, then are propelled across the table in a shower of blood and bumfur, the remnants of your trousers flapping behind you like a flag. You forgot that the Detonating Two Die was in your back pocket. At least they were not in your front pocket. |
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