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For those that do not know, the Westgate competition is a pretty popular pick'em competition offered by the Westgate Casino Hotel in Las Vegas. Each week, ~1,200 bettors make 5 picks against the spread. These picks are posted to the competition website on Saturdays, allowing for nerds like myself to identify whether or not bettors have any true ability to pick NFL games against the spread. Since the buy-in to the competition is a relatively sizeable $1,500 and the jackpots are in the millions, it's a good opportunity to access a large collection of picks made by arguably serious gamblers. Further, the standings for the competition are updated each week, so you can compare the best bettors against the worst regarding their performance the following week. This is exactly what I have been doing for the past 3 weeks.
Each week since Week-2, I have been pulling data from this website on Saturdays to track their performance the following Sunday. I know that this data has been pulled in the past by various sources who have shown that bettors at large mostly suck at picking against the spread. However, to my knowledge, these are usually summarized in aggregate - that is, the performance of all 1,200 bettors are pooled together. What I want to do is determine if bettors who have performed at a high level (e.g., 80% accuracy or better) can outperform bettors who have performed at a low level (e.g., 20% accuracy or lower) the following week.
A table summarizing my findings can be found here.
Comparison Groups: "Leaders": Those in the top-50ish of the standings (YTD pick accuracy above 80%) "Losers": Those in the bottom-50ish of the standings (YTD pick accuracy under 20%)
Metrics: Consensus Performance: A consensus pick refers to each game in which the majority of the comparison group sided with the pick. This means, the best a group can perform for the week is 16-0. Pick Performance: This is examining the number of bettors on the right side of the pick within each group. This means, the best a group can perform for the week is ~250-0.
WEEKLY FINDINGS: Week-2: The leaders beat the losers in consensus picks (50% to 43%) and overall picks (53% to 45%) Week-3: The losers beat the leaders in consensus picks (50% to 33% and overall picks (47% to 39%) Week-4: The losers beat the leaders in consensus picks (46% to 41%) and overall picks (48% to 45%)
YTD FINDINGS: The losers have beaten the leaders in consensus picks (46% to 41% and overall picks (48% to 45%)
CONCLUSION: I think this is pretty compelling evidence that most of us have no ability to beat chance levels when picking against NFL spreads. So far, I have looked at 1,400 picks made by serious gamblers with significant money on the line, and those who had performed at very high levels (80%+ hit-rate) failed to (a) beat a coin-toss strategy or (b) beat a group of terrible bettors.
It is still early in the season. Perhaps the cream will rise to the top at some point. But I have a hunch that even going into Week-17, a bettor who has hit at a remarkable rate cannot be reliably counted on to hit above chance levels the following week. We'll see.

1. Liberty Bell

Invented and designed by a San Francisco mechanic named Charles Fey in 1895, the Liberty Bell is the first slot machine. The main symbols here include horseshoes, stars, spades, diamonds, hearts, and Liberty Bells. Once three bells are aligned, the machine pays 50 cents.
Having a coin slot at the top, it features small reels in the middle and a paytable at the bottom. It works like this - players insert a Nickel and pull a lever on the right-hand side to spin the reels. Although the Operator Bell and Liberty Bell have been removed from casinos, the original Liberty Bell on display can be seen in the Liberty Belle saloon in Reno, Nevada.

2. Lion's Share

One of the most famous slot machines, Microgaming’s classic slot Lion's Share, gained a lot of success back in 2014, due to news channels that discussed the topic on how Lion's Share's progressive jackpot hasn’t been hit for two decades. Thousands of people have tried but no one was lucky enough to pull it off.
Although the machine only featured 3 reels and only 1 payline, Lion’s Share has managed to become one of the most popular releases in Vegas, so popular that people waited in line just to put a coin into it and try spinning those reels.
Eventually, a New Hampshire couple hit the $2.4 million progressive jackpot in MGM’s Grand’s Lion’s Share. Soon after, MGM Grand made a decision to retire the Lion's Share machine since it required a lot of maintenance. Still, the game became part of slot history with a jackpot that took 20 years to win.

3. Megabucks

Created by IGT, Megabucks has managed to become one of the world's best progressive slot machines. The game is also responsible for numerous big wins throughout the entire jackpots’ history. Also known as the biggest money jackpots of all time, Megabucks slot machines are described as simple games with a massive progressive jackpot. One of the biggest wins was when an anonymous engineer won a staggering $39.7 million at Las Vegas' Excalibur, back in 2003.
As for the other big wins hit on this machine, there was a cocktail waitress Cynthia Jay Brennan who snagged an incredible $34.9 million at Vegas' Desert Inn, as well as a retired flight attendant hitting $27.5 million at Vegas' Palace Statio­n. J­ohanna Huendl won $22.6 million whereas an Illinois businessman hit $21.3 million on the very first spin.
However, after winning the prize, one of the winner's family members had a tragic accident, which (as some believe) only supported the theory of a Megabucks curse. Other unfortunate stories are just believed to be urban legends, including anecdotes about underage players, as well as casino employees, being big winners but not being able to claim their jackpots because of specific state laws and regulation.

4. Wheel of Fortune

IGT’s Wheel of Fortune has proven to be the second most famous slot machine of all time. Featuring a bonus feature just like the real show, the slot machine is usually played by many slot fans and can be found in numerous casinos all over the globe. Although the game comes in more variations, probably the most popular one is still its 3-reel version, with a colourful wheel at the top.
The Wheel of Fortune multiplayer game features a bank of machines where every player gets their own screen. What makes the game even more exciting is the multiplayer edition where people can play the bonus round together, which really intensifies the game show aspect.
In a 5-reel Wheel of Fortune slot, however, Wild symbols will help players land winning combos and, if you’re lucky enough, you may get a Super Wild that will boost your win up to 5x! Last but not least, the Triple Action Bonus is activated by getting at least 3 Triple Action Bonus symbols anywhere on the reels. But still, none of the newer Wheel of Fortune slots measure up to the original one because of the large progressive jackpot involved.
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5. Mega Fortune

Featuring 5 reels and 25 paylines, NetEnt’s Mega Fortune slot became very popular among players as it usually grows into a multimillion-euro amount before being hit. The main symbols here include luxury cars, yachts, and expensive jewellery, Mega Fortune is an online slot machine game which justifies its theme that comes with the largest ever online slot jackpots.
The game offers a few different features that make the entire gameplay more fascinating, however, by far the most interesting ones are the 3 different progressive jackpots: Mega Jackpot, Major Jackpot and Rapid Jackpot. There are counters for all 3 of these that are displayed above the reels. Champagne is the Scatter and if you land at least 3 of them simultaneously, you will trigger Free Spins bonus round. Likewise, Wheel of Luck is the Bonus symbol, and if you land 3 or more symbols in succession from left to right on an active payline, you will activate the Bonus game.
What’s interesting about this slot is the fact that a Finnish man won a huge jackpot worth €17.8 million while spinning the reels of Mega Fortune. This record from 2013, has been passed by Mega Moolah, but the game is still proof how rich players can get after playing Mega Fortune.
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6. Mega Moolah

Powered by Microgaming and being among most popular slot games, Mega Moolah is a 25-payline progressive slot which has served as a competitor to Mega Fortune's big jackpots. Followed by African safari music, the game features antelopes, elephants, giraffes, lions, monkeys and zebras as the main symbols.
Landing at least 3 Scatters at the same time will trigger 15 Free Spins. What’s more, all wins hit during Free Spins are tripled, whereas Free Spins can also be retriggered. Players can win one of the 4 Progressive Jackpots within the randomly triggered Bonus round.
The game paid some of the largest slot machine jackpots that have ever been triggered. In 2015,for example, Mega Moolah gained international recognition when a British soldier Jon Heywood won a massive €17,879,645.
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7. Cleopatra

Inspired by the famous Egyptian theme and Developed by IGT, Cleopatra is a 20-payline classic game that managed to stand out above similar releases. Featuring ancient Egyptian music, the main symbols here include Cleopatra, the Eye of Horus, scarabs, and pyramids. Landing at least 3 Sphinx symbols will trigger the Cleopatra Bonus, which awards 15 Free Spins. All prizes, except for the 5 Cleopatra symbols, are tripled in the Free Spins round.
The game has been so successful that it inspired its creators to make a sequel, Cleopatra II, with richer graphics and engaging sound effects. But even if you choose the original game, you'll be playing a classic that's still enjoyed by various players today. And, in case you land 5 Cleopatra symbols you’ll get a jackpot of 10,000 coins.

8. Book of Ra

Having a popular Ancient-Egypt theme, Book of Ra has always been one of the best choices to play in land based and online casinos. Powered by Novomatic, Book of Ra is a 9 payline video slot that offers plenty of bonus features and big payouts. With entertaining narrative and energising gameplay, there are numerous ways to win here.
In case you land 5 archaeologists simultaneously, you’ll get an impressive 5,000x your line bet. Earning big bucks, however, comes from the Free Spins feature. What players need to do is land at least 3 Scatter books to trigger the Free Spins feature. Pages of the book will flip and randomly determine which symbol will expand during the 10 Free Spins.
Although hitting the jackpot may not be easy, with only a few one in between, when big wins come, they can be big.

9. Starburst

There’s no denying NetEnt’s Starburst slot became kinda legendary in the iGaming universe. With its dark background and shiny space looking gemstones, Starburst slot features 5 reels and 10 paylines. The well-known futuristic music in this release is also easily noticeable, as is the game’s expanding Wild.
More precisely, the Wilds may only occur on the reels 2, 3 and 4, and, once 1 or more wilds appear on those reels, the Starburst Wild feature will be activated. During this feature, Starburst wilds expand to cover the entire reel and remain while the other reels re-spin. Should a new wild land during a re-spin, it expands and stays along with any previously expanded Starbursts for another re-spin.
Another cool feature is that Starburst pays both ways, instead of only paying you for landing at least 3 identical symbols on adjacent reels starting with the reel furthest to the left. The maximum single spin payout for a person (betting the $200 maximum) is $100,000. But, in order for that to happen, you must land five bars on consecutive reels on an active payline. Players love this slot, probably because it’s suitable for both newbies and experienced players.

10. Immortal Romance

Powered by Microgaming, Immortal Romance is based on sci-fi and the cult of Vampires which has become one of the popular casino slot machines in the last couple of years. Apart from superb graphics and great audio and visual effects, the slot features 5 reels and 243 paylines, and the theoretical RTP rate of 96.86%. The four main characters are Amber, Troy, Michael and Sarah.
When it comes to features and bonus games, Immortal Romance offers different variants. Wild Desire feature can occur randomly, and as soon as it does, it can turn 1 to 5 reels completely Wild. Likewise, landing 3 or more Scatters anywhere on the reels in this game, activates the Chamber of Spins feature which cannot be triggered during Wild Desire.
The game is still among the most popular slots, as many players still try their luck in this slot in the hope to get the highest multiplier possible.

11. Gonzo’s Quest

Beautifully designed video slot powered by NetEnt, Gonzo Quest features 5 reels and 20 paylines. The story is based on the famous conquistador Gonzalo Pizzaro who is on his way to the Peruvian ruins and just about to experience the unique quest.
Now, Gonzo’s Quest has become one of the most popular slot games of all time, probably because it comes with a few interesting features, Avalanche Multipliers feature being the most interesting one of all. In Essence, the reels in the slot move in a cascading manner which resemble an Avalanche. As you activate each new Avalanche, you will win a multiplier. Multipliers are displayed above the reels, and go up to 5x, that is if you land 4 or more avalanches simultaneously.

12. Age of the Gods

Being among famous slot machines and inspired by Ancient Greek mythology, Age of the Gods is a 5-reel, 20-payline progressive slot powered by Playtech. The main characters are Athena, Zeus, Hercules, and Poseidon power up 4 free game modes that offer extra wilds and win multipliers! Once you start spinning, you’ll come across a series of bonus features, such as Athena Free Games, Zeus Free Games, Poseidon Free Games and Hercules Free Games.
Wild logo is the game’s wild card and it substitutes for all symbols, with the exception of the Scatter. Landing at least 3 Scatters anywhere on the reels simultaneously triggers the Bonus game. Moreover, landing 5 God symbols in any order on an active payline will get you 200x your line bet!
During the main game, any spin can activate the Age of the Gods Mystery Jackpot. This mini game guarantees a win of up to 4 progressive jackpots. All you gotta do is click on the coins to reveal jackpot symbols, and if you match 3 identical ones, you will win that jackpot.

13. Money Honey

Having a cute theme, Money Honey is a 5-reel and a 243 payline slot themed around honey. With Wilds, Free Spins, Scatters and multipliers, it is a fast-paced exciting creation featuring vibrant colours. Likewise, it is a mobile-optimized slot which may be an excellent choice if you’re new to online gambling or if you’ve been playing for years.
Just like in other games, Wilds will help you win payouts as they are able to replicate most other symbols on the reels once a winning combination has been made. Another symbol you may want to keep your eyes on is a Money Wheel card. Once you manage to land at least 3 of them on your reels after a spin, the bonus game begins, and you spin a big wheel to choose a prize.

14. Quick Hit

And our selection wouldn’t be complete without Bally's Quick Hit slot. Featuring traditional Las Vegas symbols with sharp graphics and relaxed music, the video slot has 5 reels, 3 rows, and 30 paylines. Once you decide how many paylines you want to bet on, your gaming adventure can begin. There are Scatters symbols and three bonus games to benefit from.
The biggest payout here comes from landing the triple seven symbol. Should you land 5 of these lucky numbers on the reels at the same time, you will win 5,000 coins, whereas if you land five wild symbols, you’ll get 12,500 coins.
Those looking for hitting a jackpot should pay attention to Quick Hit Platinum symbols as 5 of these contribute to 5,000x players’ original bet amount – and even more, with the max bet activated. The second-highest jackpot can be hit by landing 9 Quick Hit Slot symbols. Both the Quick Hit Platinum and regular Quick Hit symbols must occur on or within one position of the first payline to be eligible for a jackpot win.

15. SlotZilla Zip Line

And now something completely different. We’re finishing our selection of famous slots in style, with the world’s largest slot machine - StotZilla Zip Line - 128 feet tall which has two take-off levels. This $12 million SlotZilla zip line took more than a year to build and opened its doors in 2014 and has already had more than 2 million riders so far.
The 11-story slot machine is decorated with over-sized dice, a glass of martini, a pink flamingo, video reels, coins, and two showgirls - Jennifer and Porsha. SlotZilla offers two different rider experiences - the upper Zoomline and a lower Zipline. This unique machine has a huge video screen with reels and a gigantic arm, replicating a true slot machine experience.

(Not sure what permissions are required, but this is totally okay to share on a future episode if you guys would like. I would honestly love it if you do!) ^_^
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After falling behind a whole bunch after you guys switched to weekly episodes, I finally managed to get around to sort of binging a lot so I could finally catch back up. As such, I heard a bunch of viewer stories, and was reminded of a strange event (one of the few) of my own that I figured I would put out there and see what people's thoughts are on it.
I'd first like to preface this story with an important personal note by saying that I am a staunch Catholic and am very much in the Jesse camp of skepticism and just complete disbelief when it comes to paranormal/supernatural stuff, and will forever maintain that what happened to me has a logical explanation to it, even if I'll never be sure what that explanation is. "^_^
As a bit of important background info, I currently just turned 30 years old this past July (I'm officially old now. T~T) . My family annually vacations in Lake Tahoe California/Nevada ever year in August and has done so for the past ~20 years, since it's the best time for hiking as there's no snow on the mountains and the melting snow makes the numerous lakes & rivers as full and lively as possible. In the evenings, it has always been extremely common for us to head across the state-line to the Harrah's casino for some evening gambling at the video poker machines at the bar and some Blackjack or Pai Gow table games, but me and my two brothers (one older by about 3 years, one younger by about 2 years) would instead frequent the arcade at the Harvey's hotel/casino just across the street where we would play while our parents gambled. (As a dumb aside, in this arcade there is also a claw machine filled with just colored ducks that I tweeted out with the whole SGS tagged with the hashtag #DucksForDavis back in 2018 that Jesse liked, and I'll always be so happy for that, so thank you Jesse. That made my day. ^_^)
A tourist pamphlet book of coupons that we would get from our time-share gave us an additional $5.00 or so in tokens for cashing in $20.00, and this arcade offered a redemption prize of $5.00 in tokens in exchange for 500 tickets. This particular arcade also had a baseball themed timing-based ticketing game that would give you 3 plays per token and would pitch a slow, medium, and fast "pitch" that you had to time on the Jackpot light that would give [at a minimum] 25, 50, and 100 tickets respectively that would only increase upon more unsuccessfully attempts. Over the years of us playing that game, my brothers became good enough at it to the point where it was VERY easy to exploit and win significantly more than in $5.00 in tickets. For example, we would often win double-that or more by earning 1000+ or 1500+ tickets per every $5.00, so we essentially paid $20.00 up front and played for free the rest of our trip and would get the best prizes every couple of years after accruing enough tickets (we managed to get a Wii one year at ~20k tickets as I recall). So basically, we never had to actually spend any money at this arcade to play or win anything. I was never particularly good at this game myself, so I would most often just stand around and watch them exploit this clearly unbalanced game and proceed to play other games that I enjoyed after we had enough tickets in surplus to exchange.
I don't remember exactly when this particular event happened since all these trips have basically blurred together in my head, but one time within the last 10 years (I want to say 7 ago or so but that's really just a guess), I was standing next to this ticketing machine while they were playing like normal. There is an airhockey table just to the right of this game, and at the time we were playing I distinctly remember 2 teenage boys aggressively playing while I just watched my brothers exploit this ticketing game.
At a certain point, I just remember feeling SOMETHING strike me extremely hard and fast across my right temple and I immediately dropped to the ground. Like I straight-up just collapsed and slumped to the ground, clutching the side of my head in pain. My initial thought was that the airhockey puck had accidentally gotten hit into the air and hit me and that was what I felt. When I dropped to the ground, my brothers were very visibly concerned about what had happened to me and stopped what they were doing to make sure that I was okay.
I slowly stood up from my knees, rubbing the side of my head vigorously to help alleviate some of the pain, insisting that something had just hit me but that I was okay but was just hit by an airhockey puck. But when I glanced over to look at the airhockey table to the right of the game cabinet, I don't remember seeing anyone at the table and there was no evidence of any stray puck anywhere on the ground, and I had no lasting damage/pain/bruise on my head from this supposed 'hit' I took. It basically appeared that I was struck in the side of my head by nothing and I dropped to the ground randomly for no reason with no indication that anything had physically damaged me.
Because it happened so long ago and none of us REALLY paid attention to what had occurred or happened, neither me or my brothers can really remember all the exact details such as if anyone was playing airhockey that night or if anyone was at the table after I supposedly got hit by the flying puck, so I tend to take all of this with a grain of salt. I certainly don't believe it was anything supernatural or paranormal, but it was certainly a bizarre occurrence that stands out in my memory to this day.
Anyways! That's it. ^_^ Not something SUPER bizarre, and I don't believe that anything unexplainable, paranormal, or supernatural occurred that day, and I've never experienced anything like it since. I'm absolutely certain there's an explanation for what happened, even if it's just me mentally experiencing this for seemingly no reason, but I'm curious and interested to hear people's thoughts.

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From the DirectoryOfSlots.com
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In the news this week we cover a murder at a California casino that has some very famous ties, a woman suing for damages at a Missouri casino, a new Bingo Hall for Massachusetts, from across the border in Canada we’re seeing some cutbacks at an Alberta Casino, a police evasion story from South Dakota, the Saracen in Alabama getting some important finishing touches, the Illinois Gaming Board making some casino license requirement changes, a new Arkansas board for casino applications, a new California casino grand opening approaching, a jackpot winner in Nevada and 3 players hit the same jackpot in 4 days in Pennsylvania.
Here, at the Directory of Slots, we’ve been enjoying the brand new video slot, Storm Lords. That casino game, and how much we’ve had to say about it in our video slot review has inspired us to re-look some of our older online video slot reviews, putting in more details and covering more useful information on the best video slots online. This exercise reminded us that The Slotfather Part 2 is one of the very best online video slots ever created.
California casino Murder
The Pechanga Resort and Casino was the scene of a horrific robbery at the end of July when an elderly woman was left critically injured on the bathroom floor.
84 year old, Afaf Assad and her husband were dropped off at the California casino around 7:30 am on Saturday morning, Aug. 31, by the couple’s son in law. From the casino gaming floor, she was followed into the bathroom by two females, a 35 year old and a 39 year old...see more

So, you wanna go to SHOT show? You think it's all fun and games? Get to play with guns? See Jesse James and R. Lee Ermey? SHOT show is the annual pilgrimage of the unwashed masses to Las Vegas to rub elbows with youtube celebrities, bloggers and overseas businessmen copying US made equipment and share infectious disease.
If you love guns, gambling and gonorrhea - SHOT show is for you! It is not my typical idea of a good time. I am not a big fan of Las Vegas.
However: I do attend for a few reasons. First, I do enjoy travel and I'm platinum on AA so I can usually score an upgrade. Second, industry people are in there that I do hundreds of thousands if not millions of dollars with business with so it's nice to put a face with the name and see what deals are out there. SHOT for me has been a bust for the past few years. Being a value guy, I want to buy at $1000 and sell at $3000 and as of recently the gun business is more like buy for $1 and sell for $1.10 if you get what I mean.
We used to do business at SHOT and now it's just checking in on foursquare, instagram and rubbing elbows with bloggers and the like. I want to make money, not spend money so this is very annoying to me.
Anyways, onto the play by play.
Monday, January 16th. One day before SHOT show.
http://imgur.com/a/HoFUm
Every time I've been rejected by a woman, I move $1 from checking into savings and I take the bankroll down to the Wynn for some play. Lets do this.
The TSA line is a shitshow thanks to, well TSA.
I slog my way to the lounge, as shitty as it is to wait for my winged chariot to DFW. I have gone from being in an abusive relationship with Delta to being in an abusive relationship with AA. Although if you really want to experience the battered spouse feeling, UA is a few gates over. This trip's light reading is trying to finish "The Tipping Point" by Malcolm Gladwell. Such a good book as well as "Outliers" if you want a good read.
I walk up to the podium to find out that my upgrades do not clear, even as an AA Plat thanks to the addition of a FOURTH elite tier. Goddamn fucking W. Doug Parker. Asshole. I gate check my bags to make life easier for me and the rest of the folks. The gate agent calls concierge key and executive platinum passengers. I look down and realize I'm wearing a suit and board with the executive platinum folks because I do not care and I look the part. If you walk with a purpose and are dressed reasonably well, you fit the profile. I settle into my window seat and try to finish outliers. I pass out before takeoff and I'm awoken by the dulcet tones of the flight attendants preparing for landing. We land at Dallas a few minutes early and I hightail it to the Centurion for a quick bite to eat. I grab a plate and help myself to some of the excellent brisket, pecan encrusted chicken and some roasted jumbo asparagus. Yes, my pee is going to smell funny. No, I do not care. The lounge is packed. The bar is full and I grab a quick single malt as I have my meal since American's not going to feed me. They begin boarding to Mccarran as I walk out of the lounge. No time for a stop in the spa on this trip. I make it to the gate just as the call group 2 boarding.
I bypass the main line and walk up through the priority line giving no heed to the people that have been waiting there before me as I hold up my paper boarding pass with PLATINUM to the gate agent. I board and take my usual seat - the exit row without the seat in front of it. I'm aghast to see this sight.
http://imgur.com/a/dygil
The savages. Literally. The savages.
I put my loathing away for a moment and look down at the exit row. I have the window. The aisle is a large middle aged man and in the middle is what I believe to be a formecurrent linebacker for the Dallas Cowboys wearing a 52 regular sports jacket. He's not a fat guy in a little coat, he's a big fucking hulk of a man stuffed in an exit row seat that is already an inch narrower due to the tray table. I grimace as I take my seat and give him the manly nod. He does not look happy about the fact that his knees are in the seat in front and I'm stretched out like a Cheshire cat in front of a fireplace on a cold January afternoon.
The boarding door closes for an on time departure and Stephanie the FA takes her seat. He leans over and asks if he can take the empty row across the aisle and she takes one look at the three of us and gives him the nod. I bail out to give him a path of egress and suddenly the trip to Las Vegas has just become way more comfortable. I finish The Tipping Point somewhere over west texas, so I pop a xanax and dr pepper and zone out for the rest of the ride. I awake to feel one of the FA's jostling me awake telling me to put my seat up. I do so and we have a ride so smooth that not even the Delta guy behind me can complain about light chop. We catch the TYSSN4 arrival and the next thing I know it the Messier Dowty landing gear of the A321 touch the paint at Mccarran for a smooth rollout down 25L.
My phone battery is approaching grim death since this seat has no power plugs and I find bartman383 has sent me a message. He has been enjoying LV with his wife and their due to bad weather they are in the city of sin for a few extra nights. He invites me to dinner. I'm still pretty full from DFW and I tell him I'll be over there once I get my bags and the car and I'll see him when I see him. He gives me the info for the hotel as we pull up to the gate.
First stop: Centurion lounge. AA's app tells me bags being unloaded. I grab a quick bite of fried chicken and brussels sprouts since they are good for you and a chocolate pudding. The brisket and pecan encrusted chicken from DFW still has me full but I'm well aware of the speed of a union baggage handlers nowadays and who doesn't like chocolate pudding? Terrorists. That's who. Want to know how to screen for terrorists TSA? Set up a table of free chocolate pudding at the airport. The people who don't take any are members of ISIS. It's just that simple.
I grab my bag and hoof it to Hertz. I'm an idiot and I am an hour late for my pickup. Oops. Will an Audi A3 suffice? I sigh and I accept my Teutonic quattro chariot. I do a burnout in the parking garage and hightail it to the exit. I flash my #1 card and my ID and the gatekeeper gives me the go ahead. I get onto the the strip and traffic is awful. I'm going to be late for dinner. I make a left onto Russell Road and hightail it up the 15. I manage to get the car up to 100 as I pass the Luxor. My phone is dead so I can't message Bart about being late. Fuck. The exit approaches quickly as I put the 4 wheel disk brakes to work and sling the car around and head south on Las Vegas Bl. I accidentally turn into the Bellagio and I'm now running even more late. Fuck. Eventually, I get the car into the garage at the Cosmopolitan and head upstairs. I cannot remember the name of the restaurant but I head up to the third floor where all the restaurants are and I see this sign that's reminiscent of my days in retail.
It says RESTAURANT - LOUNGE - PAWN SHOP.
I laugh. I walk in. It's literally a pawnshop. I look around puzzled.
FC: Is this a restaurant?
Bald Headed Guy: Yes, through that door.
He points towards a door. I walk in to find a bustling restaurant, lounge via the entrance of pawnshop. This is insane. I pass a mirror and check myself out. I adjust my tie, after all it is YSL and the ladies LOVE YSL. Remember that. I find the hostess and inform her I will be joining some friends for dinner. They probably do not have me on the reservation though but I turn on the charm and she smiles and says no problem at all. She asks if my tie is from Hermes. I say no, I'm a YSL guy. She looks impressed as I tell her I'll make a quick lap of the room to see if they're there and surprise them. She gives me a nod and tells me to go right ahead. Still got it.
I spot bart and his wife who I can only remember vaguely from gunnitlive after party video and I pull up a chair. Bart is surprised to see I made it and they are in the middle of dinner. They offer to ply me with food and beverage but I decline as I'm driving so no booze for me and no food since I am stuffed from Dallas. We chat about life and liberty over libations. Bart's wife thinks I am hysterical. She's had a few drinks and they are already into their main courses. The brussels sprouts are way too salty and we have to send it back. No bueno.
Bart invites me up to his suite on the top floor of the hotel where we are to meet Brogelicious later in the evening. I say, when in rome......we head to the top floor of the hotel tower where Bart shows me his view from the balcony and cracks open the mini bar for some more libations. He asks if I want a drink and I say I better not. I'm driving.
Not 30 seconds after arriving, brogel shows up. Bart's wife hugs brogel. She's infatuated with him. We start shooting the shit and bart opens up the minibar and tells us to take anything we want, it's on the hotel. I laugh and I look outside as bart opens his yeti 110 for some silver bullets. Apparently he is so baller the hotel will send up a yeti 110 filled with beer to make him happy. His wife is apparently such a baller. I ball on a budget. They just ball. Hahaha.
We shoot the shit some more about guns, gun stuff and people on the reddit for a while. I get a little thirsty and I crack open bart's cooler. I ask him how long the stuff in the cooler is supposed to last and he says until Wednesday.
I look down and I am agape at what I see.
We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.
I mentally prepared my butthole and I decided to help myself to a coors light against my wishes but Bart, Bart's wife and Brogel are all drinking so I let peer pressure take hold as I cracked open a beer with them. We head out to the balcony to smoke some cuban cigars together as bart's wife takes a photo of all of us. We all look like hell. Haha.
As bart downs his second beer, he asks me a question.
Bart: ever go hunting?
Me: Ducks a little bit but not much
Bart: ever want to hunt some deadly game?
Me: Like on african safari?
Bart: No, I mean like.........man.
Me: Hahahahhahaaha you're just fucking with me. Hahahahahhaa. That's really funny.
Bart: No really, the concierge here at this hotel will set it up for us. It's amazing. I remember my first hunt......
Brogel starts laughing and I realize they've been doing a bit. I've been had.
We bullshit about SHOT and Barrett's shotguns and other things and next thing I know, it's late but bart hands me a mixed drink. I sip it a bit and I was in the middle of a tirade complaining about my customers. Suddenly, there was a terrible roar all around us, and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the city, and a voice was screaming: Holy Jesus. What are these goddamn animals? Nobody seems to understand what I'm talking about. It's cold on the balcony. Our cigars are done. We head indoors. No point in mentioning these bats, I thought. Poor bastards will see them soon enough.
Back indoors I realize Brussels sprouts and coors light is a bad choice. Seriously no bueno. I excuse myself to the bathroom and drain the vein. The asparagus funny smelling pee and the side effects of beer and brussels sprouts is a noxious combination that a defense contractor should weaponize it. It's pretty bad and not even cuban tobbaco can mask the smell.
I sit back down and continue to talk about guns and stuff with bart and the gang and bart asks who ruined the bathroom. I apologize as he sprays a bunch of febreze around and opens the balcony. I apolgize to brogel. He is not accepting my apology. (sorry :( )
Nearly 11, it's about time to pull chocks and mosey on down the dusty trail. I don't want to prompt an evacuation of the hotel due to noxious odors so I decide to leave and bart seems to be kinda mad that I've ripped ass and polluted the sanctuary of his hotel. Half a coors light and brussels sprouts are no bueno in my book now. Bart decides to party hard with his wife and I offer brogel a ride home. He seems skeptical to share a confined space with me after I have just destroyed bart's hotel room. The car has 4 windows and the Uber will cost him a few bucks he can put towards ammo. He relents as we head down to the garage to find my car. Thankfully we find it quickly and I manage to contain the weapons of ass destruction for the 16 minute ride off strip to casa de brogel.
He says I'm not that bad a dude and I agree as I hightail it to my hotel. I cannot find my hotel reservations so I call my travel agent to see.
Apparently the Wynn was not in my travel budget this year. I have come to find out I have been booked at Circus Circus, much to my chagrin. How bad could it be? I've stayed at the Wynn. I've stayed at Encore. I've stayed at the hotel that Elisabeth Shue's character got raped in in Leaving Las Vegas - but Circus Circus? Did I mention that I HATE CLOWNS? I HATE CLOWNS. Fuck.
I pull into the parking garage and the check in line resembles something straight out of the TSA line at Mccarran. 45 minutes to check in. The clerk is friendly and says he's also from Louisiana which is neat. He asks if I've stayed there before and I, being a connoisseur of old vegas history I decide to make a joke and I tell him the last time I was there, Jay Sarno owned the place. He got a laugh. I head up to my room and unpack. The lobby is clean as an old vegas casino can be, the room is clean and there's no way to plug anything in since the hotel predates personal electronic devices. I plug my phone into my external battery and collapse on the bed. I message Bart and chugbleach instead of falling asleep about show tomorrow and I offer to pick bart up early since there is no shuttle from the cosmo.
Tuesday, November 16th SHOT Show Day One
I awoke several hours later in a daze......the clock said 10AM. The show opened at 8:30. Fuck me to tears. I hurry up and get dressed and down to the sands convention center. The parking lot is FULL. The entire complex is a mess. When my man Steve Wynn built his joint he didn't build enough parking. So people would park at the Venetian and now FUCKING NOBODY CAN GET A PARKING SPACE. Holy shit. I eventually say fuck it and park over at the Wynn and walk over to the Sands. I meet up with a few of my regular suppliers and I see nothing interesting at all. Bart went to bed at 6AM after spending all night partying with his wife over at the palazzo. I joke and say that he just should have stayed there. Bart is amazed at the size of the show and we have lunch at the most disgusting place in las vegas - the convention center bistro snack bar. Bart is a wise man as he grabs a powerade and a fruit cup. I decide to try an "italian beef" and a fruit cup instead of fries to stay semi health conscious. The "italian beef" is the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten. It is flat out depressing. They give me fries with it and I demand a fruit cup. The sassy black woman working the stand asks me "DID YOU ASK FOR FRUIT? CAUSE RIGHT HERE SAYS FRIES" and I channel my inner Louis CK from the "this is how I talk" bit from SNL as I shoot back "WHY YOU FRONTIN ON ME I ASKED FOR FRUIT AND YOUR ASS BETTER BACK UP AND GET ME SOME FRUIT" so she goes back and gets me some fruit.
The "italian beef", my fruit cup, bart's fruit cup and powerade comes to $81. My platinum amex comes out and I treat bart to "lunch". We bullshit about guns and stuff in the Springfield booth as we wait at the world's worst concession stand. We eat and Bart is so hungover that he thinks he is in need of physical therapy and a wheelchair. There is no way he is going to party tonight before his trip home. Or so I think. Haha.
I meander around the show a bit more and I find this, the most USELESS PRODUCT OF 2017. It's made by a company called radetec.
http://imgur.com/a/GOiCB
It's a shot counter. For your gun.
A digital odometer, for your gun.
The only person that would buy this is the guy like my dad that kept a spiral bound notebook in his car where he documented how many miles he traveled per tank, gallons dispensed, PRICE, service station and whether they had a different price for cash/charge, oil consumption, tire rotations, alignments, all services - scheduled or otherwise, and a running odometer. Does anyone know the gun owner who asks for a round count when they are looking at a used gun? The question I always shoot back is "do you want to be lied at a little or do you want to be lied at a lot?" because that's what you're asking for when you ask for round count.
UNLESS YOU BUY THIS PRODUCT!
I roll my eyes so far back into my head that I nearly lose my balance. This is idiotic. I cannot fathom anyone willing to buy this. What a waste of perfectly good exhibition space.
Bart heads back to his hotel after visiting SHOT show for a few hours, not getting any swag and to get an IV of fluids since he looked like he was rapidly approaching grim death.
I wrap up visiting prime vendors and checking out the new products, or lack thereof because I have something on the schedule. At 4:30 there's a suicide prevention for retailers seminar hosted by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. As many of you know this is an issue that is important to me and perhaps we as retailers should be doing more. The keynote was from their chief medical director talking about the accessibility of firearms and the mindset of the "typical" suicide. Mostly men. If you are a veteran you are at a significantly larger risk. The information was presented very not surprisingly and one of the things discussed was that we only spend around 21M a year on suicide prevention.
A few take away facts from the keynote:
When suicide barriers are put up on a bridge, suicide rates for the entire area drop. The key to preventing suicide is getting people to talk about their problems. Once you can get someone out of that mindset, they are statistically less likely to do it and live productive lives afterwards. There are certain terms that they are trying to get away from - for instance, they are not saying "committed suicide" they are now saying "died by suicide" in order to bring awareness and tell it like it is.
One thing that really was interesting to me was my reading on the flight in from Dallas. In The Tipping Point, Gladwell discusses how things stay the same and suddenly they all change. One of the things that he discusses is in micronesia - where teen suicide was practically unheard of became an outright epidemic. One teenager did it, for reasons passing understanding to me as an outsider and then all the other kids realized that they too could escape their pain by hanging themselves as well and suddenly the suicide rates in micronesia became so high to where it became a public health issue. I wish I could show you all the article I wrote on TTAG about my friend's death but it has been lost in the cloud and I am unable to find the last draft I sent to print, but it echoes some of the problems we have with suicide and mental health in the firearm industry.
After the keynote, the good doctor opened the floor up for questions. Her keynote posed a lot of statistics but not a lot of answers. I am a detail oriented granular data guy and I did not get a solid grasp of the AFSP solutions posed, if any.
Several firearm dealers discussed the lack of a cohesive solution and the takeaway was they're trying to develop awareness for the suicide problem. Their goal is to lower suicide rates but how they get there is yet to be determined. I didn't like hearing that and the comments from the crowd reflected the lack of a "here's what you can do TODAY to help this problem" part of the initiative.
Going around the room, one dealer who used NICS said that if a customer was just flat out acting funny - he'd lie to the customer and say there was a delay with NICS even though there was an approval just to get them to not be able to have a gun for a few days. The crowd applauded this initiative, however I'm not sure lying to customers is the best way to run a business and treat them with respect. Another dealer brought up an interesting point. When someone comes in looking to buy a gun and they don't know what kind of gun they want, what caliber, and are generally clueless - they're either buying a gun to kill themselves with, OR perhaps they are a very uneducated prospective customer - and there is no clear way of finding out which is which.
The problems presented by the AFSP are real. The solutions aren't there though. Yet. Ideally I'd like to see some change to that. However, there's some problems.
I hung around and asked the good doctor and her staff some questions and I am in no way denigrating her life's work and her dedication to preventing suicide since she has dedicated her life's work to the issue, but the conversation went something like this.
Did you do any research on the accessibility of firearms from a retailer from the legal standpoint?
"No, we haven't"
Do you know how the NICS or state POC background systems work in regard to mental health holds, etc?
"No"
One of the problems that I foresee right off the bat is that you talked about how you are fighting time, and if you can get someone out of that suicide mindset - even for a few hours, you can get them into that higher survival bracket. If we apply a one size fits all solution to it like California and put a 10 day wait on everything with the goal of protecting someone from their own life, how do we balance that with the needs of the woman who has been hiding from her abusive spouse and needs a gun right away?
"That's a good question that I don't have an answer for."
Their initiative, I admire - the lack of solutions is a little off putting however. I tell the doc about how my friend's suicide has impacted me and she seems to be sympathetic to the situation as does her colleagues. I am given her cards and told to call the next time I'm in New York so we can get together and discuss things within the industry. I'll give them a buzz in a few weeks when I'm up there on business. On my way out of the hall, I run into Massad Ayoob. Nice guy. I've admired his work over the years. Bart invites myself and chugbleach to dinner, I can't reach Chug and even though I am beat I decide to hang out with Bart and Mrs Bart
Bart: What do you want to eat?
FC: Let's find a nice seafood restaurant and eat some red salmon, I feel a powerful lust for red salmon.
I begin vomiting.
God damn mescaline. Why the fuck can't they make it a little less pure?
We eventually head downstairs and order too much food. We are tired and not very hungry. Bart is still hungover and barely able to process food. His wife is grazing on all sorts of meat products. I am in awe of how they are both still upright after six nonstop nights of partying. I've only been here one day and I feel like I am about to die.
Dinner concludes with an awkward hug with bart's wife - I don't know how other men feel about wife hugs so I have just avoided the prospect entirely. Like flying through Denver on Frontier. Or flying on Frontier. Ever.
I drive over to the Wynn to set up my markers and the poker room is full. I draw a $2500 marker at the craps table and watch the game a bit. I have never played craps before in my life but the three people there seem to be having fun.
I look down at my phone and I realize a plane has landed. fluffy_butternut has landed in Las Vegas on business. I had lost a bet and offered to pick him up from the airport. I cash back in my chips against my casino credit and head back to my car. I cannot find my car. Fuck. I wander the wynn garage which is covered in construction debris. I eventually find it and haul ass to the airport. Now, I didn't know this but fluffy has the WORST SENSE OF DIRECTION AT ALL. Seriously. I have no idea how he even made it to the correct city. He lands and has to get his bag and stuff and I circle the airport. He lets me know he's at door 77 wherever the fuck that was. I drive into the pickup portion and I see no sign. He then says he's coming up a level, and I tell him that I'll be there shortly. I park the car and Metro PD starts yelling.
Metro: You can't park your car here.
FC: Why not? Is this not a reasonable place to park?
Metro: Reasonable? You're on a sidewalk! This is the sidewalk!
I give the man a $20 and tell him to keep it running as I wander Mccarran screaming FLUFFY! HERE FLUFFY! I message fluffy to let him know I am the car parked on the sidewalk. I instantly figure out who he is having never seen a photo of him and I throw his bags into the car as we head for his hotel. I haul ass out of the airport and get the A3 on the highway.
Now this was a superior machine. Thirty nine grand worth of gimmicks and high-priced special effects. The rear windows lit up with a touch like frogs in a dynamite pond. The dashboard was full of esoteric lights and dials and meters that I would never understand.
We check in at the Rio where the desk clerk is friendly and flirty. I express amazement there is no line. Fluffy checks in and we take his bags upstairs and he offers to buy me food for driving him to the airport. I decline. We head to the bar anyways. He orders two beers and we decide to call chug. He's staying out in Summerlin or something because his company is apparently run by cheapskates. He asks if we want to hang out and shoot the shit. I say sure and ask if he wants us to pick up food or anything from CVS or something since I have the car and I'm able to do anything I want. He asks for some toothpaste. No problem. I may be an asshole on the internet but I have a heart of gold. We get some toothpaste get to the hotel.
Arriving at the lobby, we have no idea where he is. It turns out he gave us the address for the hotel across the street. We laugh and go to that lobby and shoot the shit till 3AM much to the chagrin of the hotel clerk. Fluffy has some beers and we plan on dinner the next day. I drive fluffy back and arrive at the hotel at 4. Fuck me to tears.
Wednesday, January 18th. Day 2 of SHOT show.
Alarm goes off at 7:30 AM. I wash up, eat and get breakfast. In the garage by 8:15. Nice. I get some dillo dust and check out the new Sig 220 DA/SA and SAO legions. Daddy likey. I go to a competing firm and I piss of my state sales manager by telling him his newer designed triggers suck ass. He says the company tested them and they're the same in every way. I ask him why the triggers have two different part numbers in the catalog and how come they're not interchangeable and if that's really the case, how come there's X changes in the supposedly identical pistol parts that he's holding side by side. He gets mad at me and says I'm not an expert on their product and perhaps I should take his job since I'm so smart. I agree that I'm smart and I hold firm that if he didn't want me to complain about the shitty trigger, they should stop selling guns with shitty triggers. I am nearly kicked out of the booth.
I meet up with some of my wholesale reps and I'm mid convo when I see Itsgoodsoup and his friend walking around the show. I yell SOUP but he does not hear me. So I grab his friend and find him and I tell him we should get together at dinner with fluffy and chug. He agrees.
The show winds down, I get some business done and nothing much else. We break for a shitty gunnit live lite and I take a few questions from the crowd in fluffy's suite at the Rio. Dinner is at 8 and we arrive at the restaurant late to find soup and his friend sitting at one table and chug and his girlfriend sitting at another. Perhaps we should have gotten here a little earlier. Hahaha. So, fluffy said the place is really good and I order a few of the specialties of the house. Apparently according to yelp they do a kickass peking duck. Soon to be mrs chug is a vegan. But we can eat meat in front of her. I wonder how it's served and Soup's vancouver raised asian friend tells me that they normally carve it tableside. Our vegan says as long as there's no head she's cool. We're not sure if they can fulfill that request. So we order and food starts coming out and we tell tall tales of shot show BS and other stuff. Sure enough, the duck comes out with the head. No bueno. Haha. But I decide to treat us to vegan donuts at the vegan bakery across the street later. Seven courses later we are full. Vegan bakery closed. I am committed to getting her some vegan donuts though. We head to Fremont street to gamble. Fluffy wanders about and we try craps and we're not impressed. We hit some slots and eventually I hit the craps table where chug explains the game to me. We start betting on dice. And somehow we start winning. I find that the house allows you to take 10X behind the line. No idea what this means so I plop $5 on the pass line and the point hits 6. I drop $50 behind it and it hits. We go a few rounds and leave ahead. It's 2:30 AM. Fuck. I drive everyone back to their hotel. I get to sleep around 4.
Thursday, January 19th. Day 3 of SHOT show.
Wake up at 10AM feeling like crap. Debate whether to head straight to show and wander about. Fuck it. Went to halal guys for some halal. Delicious. Got vegan donuts. Dead drop them at the Palazzo lobby for chug and his girl. Show is a bust. Literally nothing exciting. Fluffy offers to buy me dinner. One of my customers who lives in Summerlin offers to take me to dinner. I pass on fluffy and he destroys the seafood buffet at the rio. I head to Sinatra at the Wynn for dinner with my customer. All good in the hood. Chug has been invited to the Glock dinneafter party and I'm not so we all go our separate ways. I call foghorn5950 and due to some weather, he's flying home early and our plans to hangout are fucked up unless I go tonight. I grab fluffy and we head to Whiskey Down. He orders a makers and I give him a funny look. I tell the waitress make it a bulleit. Everyone laughs. I talk shop with Jeremy also from TTAG and we shoot the shit over cigars and talk about useless products. Next thing we know, chug is out of the dinner and wandering the strip. We decide to meet up at the Linq. It takes us nearly 30 minutes to get out of Whiskey Down at MGM because the waitress was awful and messed up everyone's tab. It was a fucking disaster. To boot, MGM is now charging for parking.
FC: What a bunch of fucking jews
Fluff: You should just tailgate that lady in front of you out and screw them out of the $7
FC: I should
We pull behind her and watch as she gets flustered at the awful parking machine. Her nevada license plate says VETERAN. As the gate goes up we haul ass and screw MGM out of $7. I shout "THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE" out the window as we blow right by her up to the Linq. Through fluffy's awful navigation, we wind up at the loading dock for the Linq. Eventually we find chug and gf hanging at the penny slots. They are holding vegan donuts, which she is very appreciative of. Least I could do after showing her the head. Fluffy plays the House of Cards slot machine.
He stuck $100 in, played for 6 minutes and then got really mad and hit the cash out button and $80 was left after 5 minutes.
ITS EXACTLY LIKE THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT!
Chug's gf asks to play a special slot machine called kitty glitter. We ask and the linq does not offer it but Harrahs next door does. So we head over there and the slot tech finds the kitty glitter machine. Fluffy sticks a C note in there and tells her to play and have a blast. So she's banging away at the one armed bandit WHEN SUDDENLY I HEAR THE SOUND.
It's PUTTIN ON THE RITZ in shitty .wav file internal speaker format. Hahah. She's just hit the progressive jackpot on the penny KITTY GLITTER machine. THIS PLACE IS AWESOME! We cash out after some play and a good time was had by all. I dump off fluffy at the rio since it was very close and drive everyone else back. It's late, I'm tired and the Palace Station oyster bar is open 24 hours......I head over there and there's a 45 minute wait.
So, I pull out my backup bankroll and using everything chug and fluffy have taught me about craps I belly up to the $3 min table where they let you take 10x behind the line. I'm still learning and the table is slow so one of the boxmen start explaining the game to me.
Box: So if you place the 6 or the 9 or individual numbers you can bet those but you gotta pay a little juice on it like a commission
Me: Like when you buy the hook?
short pause
Box: Yeah! Exactly like that! You got this!
So I played a little and went up a bit and down a bit. As you do. Plunked $5 down on the pass line and took full odds and the point hit. This game is pretty cool! So I hung around and watched for about an hour and finally decided to eat my winnings. I take $5 off my stack and, drop it on the pass line and announce dealer bet - $5 to pass. It hits. The dealers love me.
Maybe Vegas isn't so bad after all.
http://imgur.com/a/LGhDj
I have the pan roast at the oyster bar. No line. It is DELICIOUS. I get back to the hotel at 5AM. I don't care when I wake up.
Friday, January 20th. Day 4 of SHOT show.
Wake up around noon feeling like crap. Go to show. Debate destroying milk cart with wheels with an ax borrowed from fire station. Decide against it. Gas up car and find myself out by palace station again. Played some craps, hit the buffet and went for an early sleep.
It's midnight. The neighbors in my the hotel are having sex. A LOT OF SEX. I can hear everything. I gently knock on the door. No answer. I knock slightly harder. No answer. I head back to my room and close the door just as I hear their door open. I zoom back out to find a puzzled middle aged stocky and perhaps sticky Latino man looking both ways.
I get in his line of sight.
Me: Hey. I'm next door. It sounds like you're having a lot of fun. I get it. I really do. In fact I haven't had sex since the bush administration so I'm gunning for you man I really am. But it's midnight and I have a 6am flight and a rental car to return. So trust me when I say I'm really happy for you but if you don't mind I really need to get some sleep tonight okay?
The awkward silence is deafening. He nods without saying a word and mouths okay. I give him a manly nod and thumbs up.
Me: thanks. I'd shake your hand or fist bump but well you know.....
I give him a peace sign as he goes back into his little pleasure palace and I turn to realize that I have just locked myself out of my room. I am wearing boxers, a tshirt and barefoot. I head downstairs to the lobby. The check in at the front desk resembles the TSA line at Mccarran. Normally I would not be this rude but desperate times call for desperate measures.
The line is 50 people deep. I walk past every person. Fuck your queue. I approach the desk where someone is helping a guest and I raise my right hand as if I were in a deposition to get them to stop. The staff and guest looks puzzled as the angry barefoot man clad in nothing but boxers and a "uzi does it" tshirt approaches the desk.
Me: excuse me. I don't mean to interrupt. I have an emergency. I'm up on 8 and my neighbors are having a lot of sex. I mean a LOT of sex.
(This is the same front desk clerk who actually checked me in Monday night by coincidence looks back at me very awkwardly and puzzled.)
Me: this isn't your regular sex. I'm talking this is your (I begin air humping the front desk and slapping the granite counter with my palm and grunting loudly) sex. You could hear the plan B packaging open.
At this point - the ENTIRE FRONT DESK STAFF HAS STOPPED CHECKING IN GUESTS. The people in line and are watching the show. The clerk is stunned. Speechless. Shock and awed. Crapped out and busted. The women are covering their children's eyes and ears. The men are wondering if this show requires a 2 drink minimum.
Me: now I get this is Vegas. Everyone wants a good time. It's midnight. My flight leaves at 6 which means I have to be up by 4. And this just isn't working. So I asked them to keep it down and I locked myself out of my room. So if you can make me another key or move me I'd appreciate it.
The clerk nods.
Clerk: of course. may I see your ID?
Years of ballet have prepared me for this day. I step back to make sure my genitals are still ensconced in my boxers as I pirouette and gesticulate wildly.
Me: DO I LOOK LIKE I HAVE ID?
The floor manager steps over and asks me to head down to the end of the desk where she will make me a key. I give her the room number and thank her after she offers to have security sent up to shutdown the best little whorehouse in Vegas. I tell her it may not be necessary. As I take my keys and walk away the people in line break out in raucous applause.
I take a bow and miraculously my boxer shorts don't rip. These people are my subjects and I have been crowned the the king of the three ring circus that is the circus circus lobby. Im offered a $1 tip from a kind soul but I decline.
My walk back to the hotel elevator bank is uneventful. So much so that I realize it is going too well. The other shoe, if I were wearing one felt as if it was about to drop. Suddenly a dumbass in a rascal scooter is heading toward me at flank speed as his head is turned to look at everyone BEHIND HIM. There's no way this will end well.
For you gentle readers joining us mid conversation - it's midnight and I need to be at the airport in 4.5 hours. I can just see it now. (Cue the harp noises)
Scene: Emergency room
Nurse: Allergic to anything? Me: NKDA Nurse: cause of injury? Me: what's the IC10 code for "run down by drunken buffoon on motorized wheelchair?"
I saw my life and confirmed upgraded first class seats home being given away by the Mccarran gate agent flash before my eyes and my catlike reflexes kicked in and I jumped to my left into the wall, mid 1960's Las Vegas union construction being the path of least resistance. Think "The Bodyguard" with Kevin Costner.
The buffoon barely realizes what happens. Children are amazed. "HEY MOM! Look! That guy just ran into a wall!"
Me: it was that OR GET RUN DOWN BY SOME JACKASS ON A GODDAMN SCOOTER GOING FULL SPEED DRIVING LIKE A....
I look down and a midwestern nuclear family with two children of formative age are waiting for the elevator. I change my last word.
Me: LUNATIC!
I look over to the parents.
Me: I'm really sorry. This is a family joint and I shouldn't have cursed the drunken scooter driver like that. Sorry kids.
Parent: no big deal. They've heard fucking worse.
I crack a smile at her word choice. Fucking worse. Yeah. That sounds like my evening.
After jumping into a wall, I'm now wide awake and unable to go back to sleep. I make the plane and push on time. The 737 comes to a stop short of the runway and holds. Something is wrong. The pilots come on and say that they loaded more cargo and passengers than planned so they have to redo their numbers. We're waiting on the taxiway with both engines running as they do this and the waiting music comes on. What's the first song?
Whitney Houston - "I Will Always Love You"

Since Ol' Woody has been mentioned in several threads here of late I'm adding a story about him and a list of his tweets created by an exmo, Book of Mordor.
The Tweets of Wilford Woodruff
Introduction
At the end of an artfully concealed passageway within the F (First Presidency's) Vault at Granite Mountain can be found a hidden trap door leading to a secret sub-basement. Using my special set of skills, I had navigated my way into this forgotten room. I passed by the Liahona, the Sword of Laban, what looked like a Jaredite-barge shining stone thingy, and the head of Shiz in a jar; these trifles were not the reason for my dangerous and clandestine visit. I found myself sweating and mopped my face with the nearby Title of Liberty.
In the far corner of the sub-basement, I spotted an opening in the floor. Creeping over for a closer look, I beheld a spiral staircase winding endlessly down into the abyssal blackness. Eldritch symbols and unsettling images were engraved upon its cold steps, but I knew that I must descend, for the mysterious Fat Man had insisted there was no other way. My flashlight flickered and I hoped that I had inserted alkaline batteries instead of the cheap regular ones.
At length, I arrived at the nethermost alcove below the mountain. And there! next to the casks of Amontillado I spied the prize and object of my search: a small locked wooden box. But not just any box, for it contained a priceless artifact. I promptly seized the box and got the hell out of there.
Returning to my room at the Crystal Inn Hotel in Murray, I brought out the key which had proven so difficult to procure. If you can recall that one "Pirates" scene with Will Turner and a sleeping Davy Jones at the organ, you get the idea. But that tale I dare not relate in full. Suffice it to say that the telling would cause men to weep and women to giggle.
My hand trembled as the key turned and the lock clicked open. I slowly raised the lid and at last gazed with wonder on that for which I had risked all. With my heart pounding, I removed it, and so I now hold...the Flash Drive of the Prophets.
The Flash Drive of the Prophets! Naught but rumors and whispers can be heard about it from the wizened merchants who lurk in the dark recesses of City Creek Center. To think that I am now in possession of it is almost more than I can bear. But I must make haste, and share what I can of the supernal treasures stored on it. And so I present to you, dear readers, the Tweets of Wilford Woodruff.
@Big_Ol_Woody - Getting dunked a mormon in a few. Gonna be an #IceBath, f**king freezing!!! 10:48 AM Ð 31 Dec 1833
@Big_Ol_Woody - @ParleyPPratt says I have 2 go 2 some podunk place called Kirtland. Pratt's a horse's @$$ control freak. Why do I have this urge 2 run? 3:41 PM Ð 1 Apr 1834
@Big_Ol_Woody - Meeting the big guy @JosephSmithJr now. Hairy dude. Whats up w/ all the girls & can I get some? 11:22 AM Ð 25 Apr 1834
@Big_Ol_Woody - Showed JS a leg bone & arrowhead. He's #OffHisMeds, starts on about a white Indian named Zelph. Great prophet Onandagus, I call bulls**t. 1:14 PM Ð 3 Jun 1834
@Big_Ol_Woody - Mission, WTF?!? No one told me that! #BaitAndSwitch 10:58 AM Ð 11 Nov 1834
@Big_Ol_Woody - Movin on up, in the 1Q70 now. Gonna get small folks 2 #PaintMyHouse 4 me. ROFL! 12:39 PM Ð 3 Jan 1837
@Big_Ol_Woody - Got me some action at last ABOUT TIME! Phoebe's 30 like me not a babe but I'll take it. JS promised me a bunch more later haha. 8:03 AM Ð 14 Apr 1837
@Big_Ol_Woody - Another mission?! Finally getting laid & have 2 leave again, whats wrong w/ u ppl? 11:40 AM Ð 9 May 1837
@Big_Ol_Woody - Made APOSTLE 2day! JACKPOT!! I'm famous, u must all BOW DOWN BE4 ME! 3:11 PM Ð 26 Apr 1839
@Big_Ol_Woody - Another fking mission. England this time. Fk. 8:46 AM Ð 8 Aug 1839
@Big_Ol_Woody - Dunked 600 chumps past 6 wks. @JohnTaylor had the idea, calls it #CricketBaptisms. Seems 2 work. 11:17 PM Ð 10 Apr 1840
@Big_Ol_Woody - Seeing Phoebe soon, YES! Horny as all s**t, have 2 make up 4 lost time. 9:43 AM Ð 2 Jun 1841
@Big_Ol_Woody - JS showed me the "Urem&Thumem" (sp?) 2day. Just a f**king rock but had 2 make a HUGE deal like OMG! OMG, faint! LOL!! Rube. 7:09 PM Ð 27 Dec 1841
@Big_Ol_Woody - Goofy s**t around here starting 2 get 2 me. Seeing stream of light in sky shaped like sword. Must be going crazy. 8:21 PM Ð 10 Mar 1843
@Big_Ol_Woody - Oh my head. F**king sky sword changed in2 a ring w/ balls of light inside. JS says sky sword means big war coming. #NauvooMadHouse 9:12 PM Ð 14 Mar 1843
@Big_Ol_Woody - BIG DAY 2DAY GETTIN MY SECOND ANOINTING ON!!! #GoldenTicket #IGotMine 10:02 AM Ð 28 Jan 1844
@Big_Ol_Woody - Moved in2 new house yesterday. Got it "broken in" last nite w/ Phoebe heh. Life = good. 8:31 AM Ð 5 Mar 1844
@Big_Ol_Woody - Another mission ARE YOU F**KING KIDDING ME??? Want 2 kick JS in the nutz. #LoserTyrant 4:04 PM Ð 6 May 1844
@Big_Ol_Woody - OHHH S**T reading in Boston paper JS shot, killed. Bet that SOB Young is gonna try 2 take over. Not good. Need 2 get drunk fast. 3:50 PM Ð 9 Jul 1844
@Big_Ol_Woody - Its over. #TheBrigham is prez now. Every1 else kissed butt so couldn't say anything. Have 2 play nice. F**k we're doomed. 2:57 PM Ð 8 Aug 1844
@Big_Ol_Woody - Another mission 2 #Europe but it's OK this time b/c I'm MP now & can order every1 around. #HastenTheWork serfs!! 12:25 PM Ð 12 Aug 1844
@Big_Ol_Woody - Back in Nauvoo again WhereTF is every1? Half the town gone. Oh well got 2 run home I have DEEP blue balls LOL! 3:33 PM Ð 13 Apr 1846
@Big_Ol_Woody - Some army jerkwad wants volunteers 4 #MexicanWar. F**k that. Where were u earlier? Passed buck up 2 #TheBrigham. 11:20 AM Ð 26 Jun 1846
@Big_Ol_Woody - Marrying 3 chix 2day have #HaremOf4 SWEEEET!! Mary A's 28 Mary C's 17 Sarah's 18 & I can hardly wait! Phoebe not happy TFB. 8:44 AM Ð 2 Aug 1846
@Big_Ol_Woody - Teenage wives a pain, want guys their own age. Can't figure it out. BE GONE YE HARLOTS! Just the 2 wifeys 4 now. 10:55 AM Ð 29 Aug 1846
@Big_Ol_Woody - OW FK A TREE JUST FELL ON ME FK GODDAM S**T THAT HURTS OW OW 2:27 PM Ð 15 Oct 1846
@Big_Ol_Woody - Both wives preg, always complaining about something SHUT IT! Leaving em 2 each other 4 female bonding. ROAD TRIP YEAH!! 4:06 PM Ð 5 Apr 1847
@Big_Ol_Woody - This place is a dump, total #ForsakenWasteland. Deseret my @$$. BY = idiot. 9:56 AM Ð 24 Jul 1847
@Big_Ol_Woody - Climbing a mountain 2day. Full suit tie & vest. Fk I'm hot tired & #NeedABath. It's never enough is it BY? Never fking enough. Ever. 12:34 PM Ð 26 Jul 1847
I have been discovered. My actions here have alerted the Strengthening Church Members Committee. Even as I write I can hear Danite footsteps echoing in the hall. I must escape. Brethren, hasta ma–ana.
Praise Darwin, I have outwitted my foes. Oaks' Blokes chased me down the fire stairs and into the hotel lobby, but I threw down some banana peels upon which they slipped and fell. My northern and eastern escape routes were too heavily guarded, and Wendover is a hole. I have turned south and found refuge in Santaquin, but cannot linger.
@Big_Ol_Woody - F**ked up dream, prob drank 2 much #barleycorn. Saw JS & a lot of ppl in white robes making crowns. Have 2 get off the stuff. 2:17 AM Ð 16 Mar 1848
@Big_Ol_Woody - Mary A divorcing me 2morrow WTF is going on? Not like I've been away from home neglecting her, oh wait I did. All right go then. S**t. 1:51 PM Ð 10 May 1848
@Big_Ol_Woody - Have 2 tell BY I need women 2 #LiveUp2Privileges. Down 2 only Phoebe since last divorce, not enough. Must find #PerkyBoobs soon. 10:03 AM Ð 16 Mar 1852
@Big_Ol_Woody - S**t, have 2 marry this widow named Mary, she's 48. Older than me. Guess #TheBrigham is pissed at me. Need 2 brown nose again. 9:26 PM Ð 27 Mar 1852
@Big_Ol_Woody - Mary died 2day so just 1 wife again. We can #KeepEmComing tho. Have another picked out already, Clarissa's 17. 6:16 PM Ð 3 Oct 1852
@Big_Ol_Woody - #TheBrigham dedicating #SLTemple site, droning on & on & on. Will NOT close pie hole. Want 2 go home, drink #beer. 11:41 AM Ð 14 Feb 1853
@Big_Ol_Woody - Bad luck w/ teens, Clarissa divorced me 2. Trying again 2day w/ 2 new hotties, Emma 15 & Sarah 19. I'm 46 haha. SCORE. 8:28 AM Ð 13 Mar 1853
@Big_Ol_Woody - Off again, have 2 travel across the fking country 2 buy st 4 the #DeseretAlphabet. Just another wild hair out of BY's @$$. 9:02 AM Ð 3 Mar 1856
@Big_Ol_Woody - Addressed bumpkins in conf 2day in favor of #handcart ops. All have 2 back #TheBrigham on this or else. #NoConscience 3:23 PM Ð 6 Oct 1856
@Big_Ol_Woody - Promised hayseeds some would be alive 4 return of #TenTribes & give em endowments. Never know what the f**k I'm talking about. 1:57 PM Ð 22 Feb 1857
@Big_Ol_Woody - OH: @JamesBuchanan 2 send in US Army. ROFLMAO!! #BringItOn, Prez! We shall summon mighty earthquakes 2 swallow you up!! 12:08 PM Ð 24 Jul 1857
@Big_Ol_Woody - Another wife 2day! 9th overall but 4th staying. Hard 2 keep track. Sarah Delight's just 19 say hi 2 Mr. Woodruff! #DelightMe 11:01 AM Ð 31 Jul 1857
@Big_Ol_Woody - @JohnDLee ran in 2day shouting about #MountainMeadows something? Said Indians killed ppl. Yawn. BFD, need 2 get ready 4 army. 3:47 PM Ð 29 Sep 1857
@Big_Ol_Woody - Spoke 2day in the Tab, said #God progressing in knowledge & power. Crowd ate it up, go figure. These dips**ts believe everything. 2:24 PM Ð 6 Dec 1857
@Big_Ol_Woody - Running away 2 Provo since army's almost here. Expected #God 2 send down useful s**t like #FlamingAngels but nope. #WhatElseIsNew 9:05 AM Ð 7 Apr 1858
@Big_Ol_Woody - Yeah right wool. Nothin better 2 wear in CK huh Heber u jackhole? RT @HeberCKimball: Peter wore wool when he came 2 Kirtland temple 3:46 PM Ð 9 Feb 1862
@Big_Ol_Woody - Emma ready 2 pop any day, Delight 3 mo along. Sarah's turn 2 receive some laying on of hands & gift of the holy spurt haha. 6:58 PM Ð 29 Jan 1863
@Big_Ol_Woody - Prophesied Albany 2 be destroyed by fire, Boston by tidal wave, NYC by quake. BY stood up & agreed. We're just makin it all up as we go. 4:12 PM Ð 21 Aug 1863
@Big_Ol_Woody - Emma & Delight WAY preggers & HUUUGE, Sarah busy nursing kid last 8 mo, Phoebe's 61, nowhere 2 go 4 sugar. 2:35 PM Ð 13 Jul 1868
@Big_Ol_Woody - Have 2 put up w/ this batst EVERY SINGLE FKING DAY around here. RT @BrighamYoung: #Sun & #Moon are inhabited 5:00 PM Ð 24 Jul 1870
@Big_Ol_Woody - Think I finally did it, 3 wives prego at same time. D*ck is sore tho & G's rub against it fierce. #NoSpermLeft, balls shrunk 2 pea size. 10:42 PM Ð 21 Nov 1872
@Big_Ol_Woody - OH: rumor #PolandAct passed by @Congress yesterday, easier 2 prosecute plyg. We will DIE be4 we abandon plyg!!! #NoSurrender 10:29 AM Ð 24 Jun 1874
@Big_Ol_Woody - Got the shaft again. I'm older than Taylor, next in line but fking Q12 jumped him ahead of me just b/c he was ordained 1st. Hate u fks. 1:48 PM Ð 10 Apr 1875
@Big_Ol_Woody - Talked again about #TenTribes coming soon. Might even convince myself of this s**t someday. #NotGonnaHappen 2:45 PM Ð 24 Jun 1875
@Big_Ol_Woody - Told everybody 2day that #Millennium is dawning soon blah blah. Would be amazed if anything I said ever actually happened. 3:31 PM Ð 12 Sep 1875
@Big_Ol_Woody - Meeting w/ @UlyssesSGrant, as usual #TheBrigham is boring the living s**t out of the Prez. Put a sock in it 4 once u douche. 10:18 AM Ð 3 Oct 1875
@Big_Ol_Woody - BY said 2 write temple s**t down. Started last Nov u dumb coot. Will make this crapola all scary weird w/ #BloodOaths 2 freak ppl out haha. 12:32 PM Ð 14 Jan 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - Think BY likes me b/c he's giving me his daughter Eudora 2morrow. She's 24 & OK I guess. Can't do s**t at 70 tho. 5:22 PM Ð 9 Mar 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - #TheBrigham doesnt like me after all, I get now why he dumped his daughter on me. Well played BY. 11:14 AM Ð 11 Mar 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - You'll NEVER believe this!! Bunch of ghosts in wigs just showed up in SG Temple! G-Wash, T-Jef, B-Frank, all of em! OMG SICK!!! 12:56 PM Ð 19 Aug 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - Now they're all #BooHoo about no temple work 4 em yet. Waited soooo long wah wah wah. Scuse us guys we've been busy. 12:59 PM Ð 19 Aug 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - Introducing themselves 1 by 1. BORRRING. U signed #DeclarationOfIndependence? Never heard of most of these ppl. Who are all u jokers?? 1:07 PM Ð 19 Aug 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - Button Gwinet? (sp?) WTF stupid name is Button? Wait til I tell BY's kid Mahonri Moriancumer Young, he'll die laughing. Button, ROFL!! 2:21 PM Ð 19 Aug 1877
I hear voices in the distance, shouts of "Oh, fetch!" coming closer. How did they find me so quickly? Into the night once more. Brethren, peace out.
Again I have survived. The fools really ought to remove their sunglasses at night, but it seems to be against the rules. They left only the chauffeur to guard their car, a custom 2013 Bentley Mulsanne bearing the license plate "MONSON6." (How many does he have?) I dispatched the poor fellow using a can of Mountain Dew heavily laced with Ex-Lax, then drove away. I exited the interstate at Nephi, later abandoned the Bentley in Milford and have made my way to Minersville. I should be safe here. No one has ever visited this town.
@Big_Ol_Woody - It's T-Jef by himself this time. Looks uncomfortable, says something about wants 2 marry #SallyHemings? I say IDK, need more info. 10:34 AM Ð 20 Aug 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - OK get this. So I pray & see Sally! HOLY S**T SMOKIN HOT!!! I get an idea, play cool, say sorry no, #CurseOfCain etc. He's sad & goes. 10:38 AM Ð 20 Aug 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - TJ's back. I offer 2 swap my 3rd, 4th & 6th wives 2 him 4 Sally. Don't fess up these 3 divorced me haha. He says he'll get back 2 me. 1:19 PM Ð 20 Aug 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - Can u f*king BELIEVE IT?!? #SelfishGhost said *NO 2 my trade!! T-JEF IS AN A-HOLE!!! #IWantSally 3:53 PM Ð 20 Aug 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - Got dunking done 4 all these dead guys & a few more. Got water up my nose LOL! #Columbus will be sooo grateful 2 me! 7:30 PM Ð 21 Aug 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - Just woke up from dream about Sally H, look down & ewwww gross!!! Long time since that happened, didn't know I still could haha! 1:16 AM Ð 25 Aug 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - BIG news! BY finally kicked it, seemed that tool would never go! Guess that HOT @AnnElizaWebb broke his heart. Annie #TelegraphMe anytime!! 11:57 PM Ð 29 Aug 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - At funeral of #TheBrigham, now I'm 1 step closer 2 prez. Snoozefest, bored 2 tears. Have 2 speak later, hope I can stay awake. 10:24 AM Ð 2 Sep 1877
@Big_Ol_Woody - Eudora had son yesterday but he died. Time 2 visit Emma 4 replacement. Delight 7 mo preg wonder if she's OK haha. 8:29 AM Ð 2 Apr 1878
@Big_Ol_Woody - got 2 run n hide the us marshals r after me that bch eudora divorced me n ratted me out 2 the govt why do all these bches turn on me? 7:43 PM Ð 7 Feb 1879
@Big_Ol_Woody - Beware O Earth 4 the Hour of the Judgment of #God is Upon U! Seriously! I'm Not Kidding This Time, I Really Really Mean It!! 5:13 AM Ð 26 Jan 1880
@Big_Ol_Woody - Q12 droolers took my Jan nutter ramblings as the Word of #TheLord so it's official #revelation. Shaking my head, it's a #circus here. 4:48 PM Ð 4 Apr 1880
@Big_Ol_Woody - Talking on #SignsOfTimes, this generation 2 see return of JC blah blah blah. Have 2 keep it going til the gomers wise up 2 us. 3:17 PM Ð 3 Jul 1880
@Big_Ol_Woody - Telegram: Prez @ChesterAArthur signed #EdmundsAct yesterday. #TheLord shall PROTECT US as w/ FIRE ye MINIONS OF SATAN!!! 10:11 AM Ð 25 Mar 1882
@Big_Ol_Woody - Saw CK mansions in dream last nite, the best #HeavenlyArchitects were building em. Must be getting f**king senile or something. 6:06 AM Ð 30 Dec 1882
@Big_Ol_Woody - Have 2 go on the run again, gettin 2 old 4 this st. What a fking joke, not like I'm boning any1, #CantGetItUp w/ a pulley. 8:14 AM Ð 14 Jan 1885
@Big_Ol_Woody - GEO EDMUNDS & JOHN TUCKER BY THE POWER OF THE P/H IN THE NAME OF J-C I SENTENCE U BOTH 2 INSTANT DEATH & ETERNAL DAMNATION IN OUTER DARKNESS 10:59 AM Ð 14 Jan 1887
@Big_Ol_Woody - Did it work? 8:41 PM Ð 15 Jan 1887
@Big_Ol_Woody - F**k me we are so screwed 11:28 AM Ð 17 Jan 1887
@Big_Ol_Woody - OH: Taylor died yesterday so I'm prez now. Super, just f**king splendid. Can't even go 2 #outhouse w/ out being arrested. 1:15 PM Ð 26 Jul 1887
@Big_Ol_Woody - Put my foot in it again. Prophesied that SS & MIA kids in audience 2 live 2 see #SecondComing. I'll be long dead by then #SoSueMe. 11:03 AM Ð 29 Jul 1889
@Big_Ol_Woody - Ridiculous horses**t, surrounded by cretins. RT @OrsonFWhitney: JS: #TowerOfBabel built 2 reach #CityOfEnoch suspended in midair 10:37 PM Ð 22 Sep 1889
@Big_Ol_Woody - Another #revelation from #God hooray! Not going 2 give up plyg 2 become state. #TheKingdom doesn't take terms it makes em. 10:36 PM Ð 24 Nov 1889
@Big_Ol_Woody - Telegram: @SupremeCourt upheld #EdmundsTucker. #God promised 2 fight our f**king battles but chucked us, what a surprise. 9:44 AM Ð 20 May 1890
@Big_Ol_Woody - Time 2 give up plyg. Need 2 make up some lame@$$ excuse 4 blowhards like BY & Kimball & Pratt etc. Thx a heap #God big help u were. 1:54 PM Ð 24 Sep 1890
@Big_Ol_Woody - Have 2 #TapDance 4 every1 about why we caved after 50 yrs of big bulls**t CK promises & brave talk of US collapse. #EpicFail 9:49 AM Ð 6 Oct 1890
@Big_Ol_Woody - It's good. Said more crap about never leading the church astray, remove out of our place blah blah. Will all #BlowOverSoon, plebs wont remember. 11:10 AM Ð 6 Oct 1890
@Big_Ol_Woody - @JosephFSmith asked 4 chat w/ son J Fielding 2day his 15 bday. #WeirdKid if u ask me. Arrogant little f**k, not 2 sharp, kinda creepy. 1:42 PM Ð 19 Jul 1891
@Big_Ol_Woody - Dedicating #SLTemple 2day, hosanna, hosanna barf. Have #hangover, feel like s**t, might need #coffee 2 stay sharp haha. 9:19 AM Ð 6 Apr 1893
@Big_Ol_Woody - Told peasants in conf 2day #OMyFather is #revelation haha. Sometimes I kill me. 4:52 PM Ð 8 Oct 1893
@Big_Ol_Woody - B-Frank said hi in bizarro dream. Had long talk, he wanted more temple s**t done. I said OK if he would bug T-Jef about #SallyHemings. 3:46 AM Ð 20 Mar 1894
@Big_Ol_Woody - Utah state but w/ out plyg dammit. Bogus Ô89 #revelation was test from #God I bet. Uh yeah thats it. U cant criticize me I'm the profit. 12:08 PM Ð 4 Jan 1896
@Big_Ol_Woody - Conf talk earlier 2day, kids here 2 be alive 4 #SecondComing. Same ol s**t 60 yrs, they're just never gonna learn. Dumb@$$es 4ever. 6:25 PM Ð 8 Apr 1898
Betrayed! facepalm It must have been a local, besotted with the false promises of a special second anointing for my capture. If I could hie to Kolob Canyons I might yet stand a chance. I will return and report, should I live. Brethren, whatever.
The Tweets of Wilford Woodruff: The Hunt is On!
It has come to this at last. I was hotly pursued into Zion National Park and alas! have tragically lost the Flash Drive of the Prophets while scrambling over the lovely pink cliffs. I fear that it will never be found, save perhaps by an intrepid contributor to this board. Once I reach Mesquite I think I will be free. The Committee has no power beyond Utah, and the breakfast buffet at the Casa Blanca is not half bad. I thank you, dear readers, for your time and attention but damn I really must move or I am toast. Brethr
The Tweets of Wilford Woodruff: Epilogue
The boys were close on my heels all the way to St. George, where I ditched them for good as they were gorging on thirds at Golden Corral's dessert table. I held to the course of the Virgin River through Arizona, entering Nevada near Bunkerville. Being famished I was compelled to rustle and BBQ one of Cliven Bundy's cattle. And it came to pass that I arrived in Las Vegas clinging to the back of a big rig. I relax now poolside at Mandalay Bay Resort and Casino. All is well! My adventure is finished and I return to a normal existence, buying tequilas for sun-kissed topless honeys. I thank you once more for your kind attention. Brethren, I do.
The orignal article and other information about LDS Prophets is available here: http://www.salamandersociety.com/foyeprophets/

(With apologies to Uncle Steve)
Jay Everett stared up at the towering Twin Pines Hotel, one of the largest buildings this side of the Las Vegas gambling strip. It was a jutting structure built entirely out of steel beams and black glass. The Hotel was surrounded on all sides by the flashing neon lights of Casino Row, which danced across its glossy surface like the ghostly imprints of colored flames. Apparently this place offered some of the swankiest penthouses in the entire city, but Jay wasn’t here for a room. He’d only come here to gamble.
He pushed through the front doors and entered the lobby, a spacious room with potted plants crawling up the walls like ivy. The place was packed with men in tuxedos and women in loose evening dresses. Jay felt smothered in his own suit, and he tried easing up the collar with one finger. It didn’t help much. He still felt like he was being throttled by his tie.
Most of the crowd was moving toward the check-in desk, but Jay snuck his way through until he could see the flashing lights of the casino. A large metal beam stretched across the entrance. Beneath it was a sign that proclaimed TWIN PINES CASINO in bold, electric blue letters. A bear and a turtle and various other forest animals gamboled across either side.
He managed to slip through the bustle without being too pushy, and then he was in. Light background jazz swept across him as he stepped into a world lit up by colored bulbs and strips of eerie black light. The casino actually wasn’t too crowded this early in the night. He almost had the entire place to himself.
He stopped before a large, circular game machine emblazoned with the words GOLD KING. The game itself was nothing more than a large spinning disc divided into colored slices. Most of the sections were given small monetary values, but there was one tiny sliver that had been painted a solid gold.
The game itself didn’t get too much activity, but the large statue perched above it could be seen from anywhere in the casino. It was a cartoony sculpture of a king wearing red robes and a golden crown. In his hand he held a royal scepter, which would flash brightly and let off a chorus of clanging bells whenever anyone hit the jackpot. Right now he was silent. His blank eyes stared out at the crowd, his mouth open in a creepy cartoon smile.
You have until the Gold King goes off to make $19,000. Otherwise…
Jay shivered. He couldn’t get Farrow’s threat out of his head; it echoed in his ears like the growl of a distant animal. Farrow himself was nowhere to be found, but Jay knew he’d stationed his cronies in every corner of this place. Some were probably disguised as security guards, others as bartenders or casino patrons. He couldn’t trust anybody. Any one of these people could be waiting to turn him in to Farrow the moment he backed out of this job.
So he did what he was told to do. He took a deep breath, let his eyes sweep over the casino, and strode over to the game that stood out to him the most. He had a lot of money to win and not much time to do it. This was a world ruled by chance, where the simple roll of a die could decide a person’s fate, and any ordinary man would have been sweating in his suit by now.
But Jay Everett was no ordinary man.
Jay had always known how different he was, even as a kid. It wasn’t that he looked or acted stranger than other people. He was just perceptive. He knew the answers in class before his teacher even finished speaking, although he quickly learned to keep this to himself. He could find things too. When little things went missing around the house, Jay always knew just where to look. He couldn’t explain how. He just did.
He also had an uncanny skill with numbers. He’d never used a calculator in his entire life and he couldn’t understand why his classmates were so helpless without it. By the time he’d reached 9th grade, he was already taking the highest level math courses his high school could offer. It wasn’t long before he caught the eye of several prestigious business schools, which practically tripped over themselves getting him to apply. He never had to worry about his future. Jay ended up leaving high school early and heading to Stanford, where he started down the fast track to a career in finance.
He was snatched up by Tony Salvatore right after graduation. Salvatore was a business tycoon who’d left his footprint in every major city across the country, and he was eager to take Jay on board as his new head of finance. “I’ve been waiting for a kid like you,” he’d said, clapping Jay on the shoulder. “Someone who knows how to crunch the numbers and keep his mouth shut.”
It was true that Jay hardly ever talked; it was a habit from his youth that he hadn’t yet outgrown. He just didn’t trust himself to speak. He knew things about Salvatore, things he couldn’t possibly know – like how he came in late on Mondays because he’d spent the night before drinking and hitting his wife, or how he’d gotten bite marks under his collar from a violent fling with his receptionist. Tony would walk into the room and the knowledge would hit Jay in the face like a foul stench. He valued his job, so he kept quiet.
He discovered Salvatore’s biggest scandal completely by accident. Jay had stayed late at the office that night to finish up one of his revenue forms, which kept coming up $100 short. It was baffling to him. He’d never had an issue with numbers before, not even a minor issue like this, and he didn’t understand why he kept finding the same inconsistency. So he pulled up some other forms to see if he could trace the cause of the missing hundred.
It would have been a cold trail for anyone else, but Jay was good at finding things, and he managed to dig up an encrypted file with a bunch of forms that had never made it into the system. He set up a program to decode the files and discovered that they were all bank deposits – deposits of exactly $100. The missing money was being funneled into an account under the name “Enrico Balazar.”
At first Jay didn’t know what to do with the info he’d dug up. This was fraud, fraud of the highest degree, and Salvatore had to be turned in. Jay had no desire to defend the crooked son of a bitch. But he wasn’t stupid – he knew Salvatore had connections in low places, and if Jay made this information public, he’d have a target on his head. He sat in the dark for a while and cycled through his options.
When Salvatore showed up for work the next day, Jay intercepted him right outside his office. “Sorry to bother you, sir,” he said. “I was just about to send the tax forms to our Boston division when my computer crashed. Is there any way you could send them out for me?” The bit about the computer was true; he’d just neglected to mention that he’d crashed it himself.
Salvatore stared at the papers in Jay’s hand with bleary, reddened eyes. He just had a shot of whiskey in his car. As usual, the thought hit Jay completely out of the blue. Salvatore eventually reached out and took the papers, crumpling them a bit in his fist.
“Hold on a sec,” he grunted. He took the papers into his office and set them on the desk, then leaned over to type his password on the computer. Jay’s eyes followed him carefully. Then Salvatore placed the forms in his scanner and began the uploading process.
Jay stayed late again, waiting until the last of the workers had left the office before typing a quick command on his keyboard. There was a brief popping sound. The power in his part of the building flickered for a moment, and Jay knew the cameras were disabled. He had a good hour or so before they came back on again.
He’d kept a pair of gloves in his briefcase all day, and he slipped them on now as he headed to Salvatore’s office. The tycoon’s personal computer sat in the corner, its screen flashing with an insistent message: PASSWORD?
Jay leaned forward and typed it in, his fingers copying the same pattern Salvatore had used this morning. A quiet beep, a loading bar, and he was in. He got to work immediately.
When Jay arrived at work the next day, a police car was parked outside the building, lights flashing and everything. He arrived just in time to watch the cops shoving a handcuffed Salvatore into the backseat. Jay made sure to keep his face hidden, just in case, but Salvatore had his eyes turned to the ground.
“What happened?” Jay asked one of his coworkers.
“You’ll never believe it, man. Some kind of virus got into Salvatore’s computer and made all of his private files go public. It turns he was channeling a big chunk of his clients’ cash to this mob boss in New York. Balthazar or something.”
“No kidding,” Jay replied. He watched as the car carrying Tony Salvatore turned the corner and disappeared down 5th Avenue.
It was then that he noticed a figure who was standing at the edge of the crowd, his face hidden by the brim of a dark baseball cap. Everyone else was staring down the street, but this man was facing Jay instead. He had his hands tucked into the pockets of a black leather jacket and a thin layer of dark stubble on his face. As soon as Jay noticed him, he lifted a hand from his pocket and gestured for Jay to come over.
Jay was hesitant, but it was broad daylight and he was surrounded on all sides by people. It was safe. He circled around the crowd and approached the dark stranger.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
The man didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out and slapped something small and square into the palm of Jay’s hand. Then Jay finally got a glimpse of his eyes beneath the cap. They were shrewd and calculating, a glassy blue that made Jay think of the surface of a frozen pond.
“I saw,” he said. “And if you’re interested, I could use your kind of expertise.”
Jay glanced at the object in his hand. It was a business card, nothing but a name and a set of digits. He frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t –” But when he looked up, the man had already disappeared.
That was the first time Jay met Rick Farrow.
Jay sipped from his wine glass and watched as people tried their luck on the Twin Pines slot machines. In theory, the outcome of these games was completely random. But Jay knew that most of these machines cycled through a random number sequence, and unless it had been rigged to prevent this issue, one could theoretically spot a pattern. The casino owners needed to make sure that some people walked away winners, after all. Not everyone. Just enough to keep people playing.
There was a pattern, but it was so subtle that the average person would never have noticed it. 19 pulls got you three cherries and a decent amount of cash. 95 pulls got you a row of three gold coins. And after 171 pulls of the lever, three 7s would plunk into place, bells would go off, and the ring of bulbs around the game would burst into life. Jay watched the colored lights dance across the face of each excited winner.
So he sat at the bar, ordered another wine, and waited. He made a mental check mark every time someone new stepped up to play the game. And when the 170th person walked away, he set down his glass, strode over to the machine, and played.
The wheels whirled for a good few seconds before settling on the jackpot. The lights flashed, the bells rang, and a flood of coins spilled out of the machine.
He collected his winnings without a smile.
Now that Tony Salvatore had been removed from his position as CEO, his offices in New York got shuttered. Jay suddenly found himself jobless and in desperate need of cash, as Salvatore had been paying for him to live in a nice apartment on the east side of town. Despite his impressive work history, he seemed to carry with him a kind of stigma for being even somewhat associated with the Salvatore name.
So, with no other options, Jay contacted Rick Farrow. The mysterious man arranged to meet with him at once. He conducted Jay’s interview in a rented office space not too far from the old Salvatore building. Farrow asked most of the questions, and he nodded along pleasantly as Jay talked about his passion for numbers and his experiences studying at Stanford.
Farrow was a curious character. He never seemed to take off his black leather jacket, which looked slightly too big for his slender frame. His cheeks were sharp and bony and his facial hair was carefully trimmed. It was a fairly imposing look, but when he smiled it completely transformed his character. He was a charismatic individual. One way or another, he seemed capable of winning anybody over.
Farrow was impressed by Jay’s experiences, especially by the way he had so cleverly exposed Salvatore, although he refused to tell Jay how he’d seen that particular bit of espionage. In any case, Farrow thought Jay’s skills were perfect for the job, and he told Jay he would take him on immediately. Housing would be provided in one of the apartment complexes near their base of operations. Payment was substantial and would come in on a monthly basis. Jay hardly heard any of this; he was just excited to be welcomed into such a secretive underworld.
The weeks passed by quickly as Jay got initiated into his new life. Farrow explained to him that Salvatore had just been the tip of a very large and very dangerous iceberg. CEOs all over the state were funneling illicit cash to various crime bosses in the city, and Farrow had made it his goal to cut off the head of the snake. Multiple snakes, in this case. That was where Jay and the rest of the tech specialists came in. They had an eye for the little details that could bring a corrupt CEO down from the inside.
To accomplish this, Farrow and several of his associates went around the city and placed cameras in strategic locations. Sometimes they even hacked into company networks so the tech-heads back at the base could break through any encrypted files. It was tireless work, but Jay loved it. He had never felt more in his element. It gave him a thrill to think that he was doing something with his life, that he was using his knowledge to make the world a slightly better place.
Most of the time they operated out of an abandoned warehouse in one of the emptier sections of the city. Farrow had the whole place rigged up with state of the art security systems and a few dozen computers. Jay and the other tech-heads spent most of the time cracking codes and analyzing the footage from Farrow’s secret cameras. If they found any incriminating evidence, they were to report it right away. Then Farrow would take some of his cronies and disappear into the city for a few days.
In very rare cases, Farrow would ask one of the tech-heads to come with him on an assignment. This only ever happened if the job required hacking skills that Farrow himself didn’t possess. Jay was fairly new to the whole game, so Farrow usually passed him up for one of the more experienced techies. He didn’t mind; in fact, he was nervous about returning the field. The Salvatore affair seemed like it had happened ages ago. He wasn’t quite sure he was ready to sneak around in gloves and a ski-mask again.
Jay was busy scanning footage one evening when he heard the slam of a door and the sound of muffled shouting from below. He frowned and took off his headphones. It was definitely Farrow shouting – Jay would have recognized that gravelly voice anywhere. He just couldn’t make out any of the words. Placing the headphones gingerly on the monitor, he got out of his seat and tiptoed over to the door.
The main operations room was on the second floor, so Jay peered over the railing on the catwalk to see what was happening below. Farrow and a few of his masked associates were gathered around one of the other tech-heads. Jay thought it looked like Bruno, the guy who worked with him on Tuesdays. He had his back against a drainage pipe and was holding his hands up helplessly.
“You took off your fucking mask! Do you know how serious this is?” Farrow was yelling. Even from this high up, Jay could see the angry crease in his eyebrows. “They’ve got your face now. It’ll be all over their security cameras. Your stupid slip-up could have put our entire operation at risk!”
“I-I-I’m sorry,” Bruno stammered. “It won’t happen again, I promise!”
“You’re damn right it won’t,” Farrow growled. Then he drew a gun from inside his jacket and shot Bruno in the head.
Jay clapped a hand to his mouth to stifle a scream. Half of the techie’s face was missing, bits of his skin and brain tissue spraying out onto the warehouse floor. His blood splattered across the drainage pipe and trickled to the ground. Jay could hear the steady drip all the way from the catwalk.
He ducked back inside the operations room before Farrow could look up and see him there. His heart was pounding out an erratic beat on his ribcage. As quickly as he could, he slid into his seat and stuck the headphones back over his ears. He hummed a senseless little tune under his breath, trying to make himself look as carefree and oblivious as possible. If Farrow knew what he had just seen… he held back a shudder.
Farrow appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, the specks of blood completely wiped from his face. He’d changed into a cleaner jacket too. As Farrow walked past the row of flashing computer screens, Jay tried to calm his racing pulse.
“Any good news?” Farrow asked. He placed a hand on Jay’s shoulder, peering down at the monitor.
They shoved his body in the wood chipper. The knowledge hit him like a jolt of lightning, clear and strong. It took every ounce of his willpower to force a smile.
“Nothing so far,” he said. “It’s pretty quiet tonight.” He was amazed he could keep his voice from trembling.
Farrow stared at the screen for a few painfully long moments, then coughed. “Keep up the good work,” he said. He let go of Jay’s shoulder and drifted toward the exit. The masked associates followed him like obedient dogs.
When Jay was finally sure he could breathe easy again, he wiped a line of sweat from his brow. He was badly shaken, and not just because he’d seen his coworker shot in cold blood. He was questioning himself now, questioning the whole purpose of this assignment. If Farrow could do something so cruel and violent in the walls of his own compound, what was he doing out in the real world?
After making sure the coast was clear, Jay opened up a web browser and began searching for names. He’d been so busy working this job that he’d never bothered to check the papers, to see what was really going on outside the compound. All the news about the crooks they’d toppled had come through Farrow himself. But the search results Jay found online painted a very different story.
Farrow had said that the elderly Mitch Cullum had been arrested for siphoning funds to a New York crime syndicate, but Jay managed to dig up the old man’s obituary. Cause of death: gunshot wound. Nancy Deepneau, a leading member of a dental corporation in New York City, had gone missing three months ago. And David Tassenbaum, a prominent figure in the computer business, had been mugged to death in an alley, his body so beaten it had been almost impossible to identify. Jay found a dozen more examples of the “corrupt CEOs” Farrow had supposedly brought to justice. The only thing they had in common was that they’d all been very rich, and there had been discrepancies in their corporate funding following each death or disappearance. The police were unable to track down any leads.
His fingers trembling, Jay shut down the browser. For a moment he could only stare at the screen in front of him. What the hell could he do? It wasn’t like he could play dumb forever. He was an expert at staying strategically silent, but a secret this huge would find its way out eventually. His body language would betray him first. The moment he started fidgeting too much, Farrow would know the truth.
So he did the only thing he could think of. He disappeared.
Erasing yourself from existence is next to impossible. You would have to delete every record of your birth, your social security, your education, your medical insurance, your credit card accounts – any and all places where your name could be found in writing. But Jay was persistent, and he knew things. He accessed every database he possibly could and systematically wiped himself off the map. There were some records he knew he could never touch, but if they were out of his reach, the chances of Farrow finding them were slim to none. He was an invisible man now.
Once he was done, he put down the headphones, shut off the monitor, and strode out the front door of the warehouse. It was only a matter of time until Farrow noticed his absence, but he planned to put a few thousand miles between them before that happened.
He was free. He’d been shaken to his core, but he was free, and that was all that mattered. He’d have plenty of time later to think about the horrors he’d seen. And who knows? Maybe this was it. Maybe this whole affair was behind him, and one day it would just become a ghastly dream, a nightmare from someone else’s reality.
But deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Red 38,” Jay stated. He handed his chips to the croupier, who stacked them on the side of the table with the bets from the other players. Then he gave the roulette wheel a spin. Jay watched as the colors bled together, streaking in an ugly smear of crimson gray. After a few seconds, the croupier tossed the ball down the spinning track. It bounced and rolled every which way before coming to rest in one of the 38 slots. Red 38 exactly.
“Damn, you’re on a roll,” the croupier said. He handed Jay his original chips plus the payout. “Sure you want to keep going? This luck of yours can’t last forever.”
“I’m sure,” Jay answered. He took a deep breath, waiting for the answer to wash over him like it always did. Then he placed his chips back down on the table and stated, “Black 13. Last bet.”
The croupier shrugged and took the chips. They went through the same routine. The roulette wheel spun in its blurry circle, and the ball bounced around for a while before plunking into its final slot. Black 13.
Jay ignored the astonished remarks of the croupier and accepted his winnings silently. He couldn’t stay at this table forever, so he turned away from the Rose Bowl Roulette and cast his eyes across the casino. The night was lengthening and the room was filling up with players, most of them clutching thin glasses of cognac and laughing with their friends. He searched for any sign of Farrow’s men, but it was useless – he’d never find them in this crowd.
He didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t help glancing at the Gold King’s looming statue. It was still dark and silent. Now that the place was getting busy, though, the chances of someone winning the jackpot had risen significantly. Time was running out.
Jay hated using what he knew to win games. It was one thing to find the pattern of outcomes for a slot machine; anyone with half a brain and enough time on their hands could do the same. But what he could do was cheating. No one could ever catch him at it, which somehow made it worse. He’d decided a long time ago that he’d never do exactly what he was doing now.
But he didn’t have a choice. He was over halfway to his goal, closer to three-fourths, really, and he couldn’t afford to waste time now. If he had to cheat, then so be it. Too much was at stake tonight.
The years following Jay’s escape passed in a dreamlike sort of blur. He moved out west, hopping briefly from town to town and spending his nights in cheap hotel rooms. He had to pay in cash, of course, since his credit card account had recently ceased to exist. Luckily he had plenty to go around. He had a natural talent for hustling, and he won most of his money by playing pool games or dealing hands of poker in the back of shady bars.
He never stayed with the same car for too long. He always knew when some idiot driver had left their keys in the ignition, and he took every opportunity to hop in a new vehicle and continue the journey west. He felt a little guilty about hijacking so many rides, but it never bothered him for long. He was far more afraid of Farrow catching up to him.
Occasionally he would seek out some underground sources who had a reputation for forging documents. He needed a new identity, which meant a new birth certificate and social security card and everything. He eventually settled on the name Jay Everett – “Jay” after the first letter of his old name, and “Everett” after a small saloon he’d passed through in Denver. He didn’t get all his documents forged in one location. He staggered them, picking up a new one every few stops to try and throw Farrow off his trail.
By the time he reached Nevada, he figured he’d placed enough distance between himself and Farrow to finally settle down. He got a low-level office job and rented out a tiny apartment at the edge of Boulder City. As the years passed and his stint with Farrow faded from his memory, he finally began to live a normal life again.
He fell in love. He married a beautiful girl named Marcia Thorne who knew nothing about his past, and they had a son together. Trace Everett. He grew up like any ordinary boy, kicking soccer balls around the yard and playing hide-and-seek with the other kids in the neighborhood. When he turned seven they even bought him a small black-and-white dachshund that he affectionately dubbed “Billy.” From that point on the boy and the dog were inseparable; they often went on walks together before his parents called them in for dinner.
Jay was happy. He’d gotten away from his past; he’d moved on from a life he thought would haunt him forever. He made love to his beautiful wife and watched cartoons with Trace on Saturdays. It was a perfect routine, and he never wanted it to end.
Then one night, ten years after Jay had made his escape from Farrow’s compound, a power surge went through their entire house. The Everetts had been enjoying their Sunday dinner when it happened. The bulb above the kitchen table gave a loud sputter before dying out completely. Billy gave a loud bark and began running in circles around the table.
“Calm down boy, it’s just a blackout,” Trace said. He got out of his chair and restrained the dog before he could knock into any of the table legs.
“That’s funny,” Marcy said, peering out the window. “The neighbors’ houses still have power.” Jay joined her by the window, frowning.
“Hmm. Must be something wrong with our circuit breaker,” he said. “You two go look for some flashlights. I’ll see if I can fix the problem.”
The three of them wandered off, stumbling their way through the dark. Jay found the door to the basement and began climbing downward, clinging carefully to the railing. He knew the breaker was located at the bottom of the steps, right next to the garage. He reached the end of the stairs and fumbled in the gloom for the circuit box.
To his surprise, the door to the box was already wide open. As Jay’s eyes adjusted somewhat to the darkness, he saw that every single wire in the box had been snipped cleanly in half. Shit, he thought, oh shit, I should have known. But it was too late now. He felt the muzzle of a gun dig into his shoulder blades.
“I’ve been looking a long time for you,” Farrow said. His voice floated through the darkness in a soft, amused sort of growl. “You’re the one that got away. Isn’t that cute? You wouldn’t believe how many goddamn hoops I had to jump through just to track you down. But now I’ve got you.”
“It’s been ten years,” Jay hissed. “Ten fucking years. What could you possibly want?”
Farrow made a disapproving sound with his tongue. “We’ll get to that in a moment,” he said. “First, we have some introductions to make.”
Right on cue, Billy began barking furiously in the kitchen. Jay could hear Trace’s high-pitched voice trying to shout over him. “No, no, what are you doing, stop, he’s just a dog HE’S JUST A DOG STOP IT –”
Then a gunshot, a muffled whimper, and a shriek that could only have been Marcy. “Jay!” she screamed. “Oh god, oh god, there’s men in the house, they’ve got guns! They shot Billy!”
“Time for our big entrance,” Farrow laughed. He shoved Jay in the back with his pistol, forcing him up the basement steps. Jay plodded forward, hardly able to feel his feet. This must be a nightmare, he thought. I’m going to wake up any second now. But he knew that wasn’t true, the same way he knew so many other impossible things.
When Farrow pushed him into the kitchen, four dark shapes were waiting for him there. Two of them were Trace and Marcy, their hands behind their heads, their entire upper bodies trembling. The other two were some of Farrow’s masked associates. Each one held a pistol to the head of the prisoner beside them.
Marcy let out a sob when she saw Jay climbing up the steps. “Oh god, Jay, not you too?”
“Quiet,” one of the masked figures ordered. His voice sounded strangely distorted, like he was speaking through a filter. Marcy drew in a shuddery breath but stayed quiet.
“So, the gang’s all here!” Farrow exclaimed. “Wonderful.” He performed an exaggerated bow, his gun still nestled in the small of Jay’s back. “I’m Rick Farrow, a man of many trades. Right now I’m a man with a gun. Funny how that gives you so much power, doesn’t it?”
Jay said nothing. In his mind’s eye he could see the gun Farrow was holding, a thin barreled pistol that looked like something out of a Western. A Colt Paterson revolver, his brain spat out uselessly. As if it mattered. It would put a large hole in his chest no matter what type of gun it was.
“It appears you folks have already met my men,” Farrow went on. “They’re pretty low on the corporate ladder, but they do what they’re told, and what more could a man ask for?” He lifted the gun from Jay’s back to do a mock sort of clap with both hands. Jay wasn’t fooled; he didn’t move an inch. He was still Farrow’s prisoner, even if he was no longer at gunpoint.
“What do you want with us?” Marcy asked. Her face was damp with tears, but she’d managed to steady her breathing. Trace leaned against his mother’s legs with a scrunched up expression of anger in his eyes. He was trying so hard not to cry. Jay did his best to look away from the furry mass on the floor that used to be Trace’s beloved dog.
“What do I want?” Farrow said. “Ah, therein lies the question.” He turned his attention back to Jay, his eyes still bright and glassy blue in the darkness.
“So, you go by ‘Jay’ now, do you?” He said it again, slowly this time, as if to savor its taste. “Jay. I like it. Nice and low-key. It suits you well.” He gave Jay a casual tap on the shoulder with his pistol. A toothless smile appeared on his face when he saw Jay wince.
“You were good, Jay,” Farrow said quietly. “You were one of my best, actually. When you took off like that, I knew it wouldn’t be easy to find you. But I kept trying. The other tech-heads made stupid mistakes, botched their missions; they were disposable. But you. You were the grand prize, the golden fleece. I needed you back. You did stuff with numbers that could make a fella’s heart sing.”
Here Farrow paused. His glassy eyes were staring more intently at Jay this time, a careful sort of scrutiny that made his skin grow cold.
“But it’s not just numbers, is it? You see things. Patterns, clues, tiny details other people would miss. That’s what makes you so special. That’s why I need you.”
“Just tell me,” Jay spat through clenched teeth. “Tell me what you want to do. I’ll do anything.”
This time the smile that creased Farrow’s bony cheeks was wide and toothy. “Now that’s more like it,” he said. “Have I got a job for you, big boy. This one’ll be right up your alley.”
Jay said nothing, waiting for Farrow to break the silence first.
“Here’s the thing,” Farrow said at last. “There’s a man out in Las Vegas by the name of Jonas Carver. He runs a big casino in the heart of the city called Twin Pines. My men and I have been eyeing the place for years and we’re just about ready to strike him where it hurts.” He pointed an enthusiastic finger at Jay. “What I want you to do is take a hefty chunk out of this man’s wallet. Let’s say… $19,000. Enough to make him question the security in his casino. Afterwards, when he’s checking for cracks, we’ll sneak in and do our part.”
“Are you going to kill him?” Jay said. His voice came out hoarse and weak.
Farrow grinned. “Don’t worry about Mr. Jonas Carver. He’ll be in good hands. You just focus on playing the right games and making the most moolah.”
Jay’s neck felt stiff as a board, but he nodded. “I’ll do it,” he insisted. “Just let them go.”
“Ah,” Farrow said. “We’ve reached that little snag.” He began pacing the kitchen floor in front of Jay, swinging his revolver like a baseball bat. “See, the thing is, I can’t do that. I need a little insurance here. If I let them go, what’s stopping you from running off to the West Indies for another ten years or so?”
“I won’t,” Jay managed to choke out. “Listen to me, goddammit. I won’t run. Just let them go.”
Farrow pretended to think about it for a second. “Nah,” he decided. “Tell you what. Let’s play a game instead. Inside the Twin Pines Casino, there’s a wheel-of-fortune type game called Gold King. You can’t miss it. It’s got this ugly fucking statue of a cartoon king on top. Every night, without fail, someone wins the jackpot and bells go off and that statue waves its flashing staff at everyone. But only once. For the rest of the night it’s just a statue.”
When Farrow turned to Jay again, his eyes were icy. “Tomorrow night,” he said. “You have until the Gold King goes off to make $19,000. Otherwise your family gets it.” He made a careless gesture at them with his pistol. “One shot each, right in the head. Boom. Boom. And you have to watch.”
“I’ll do it,” Jay repeated. “I’ll play your goddamn game the way you want. But unless I fail, you’d better not lay a finger on them.”
Farrow was examining something under one of his fingernails. “Done,” he stated. He waved his hand absently toward the door. “Take them away, men. You know where to go.”
The two masked men dragged Marcy and Trace out the back door, both of them crying out and struggling to get free. “Be quiet,” the first masked figure said in his distorted voice. “If you don’t shut up, we’ll make you shut up.”
Both of them immediately quieted down, but they couldn’t hide the expressions of pure fear that were plastered across their faces. Jay felt blood pumping furiously through his veins as he watched his family getting dragged away. Farrow lifted his hand and gave them a pleasant wave as they disappeared out the back door.
In the side window of the kitchen, Jay managed to catch a glimpse of Marcy’s face for what he hoped wasn’t the last time ever. He blew her a kiss with trembling lips, but the masked men shoved her and Trace into a waiting van before she could see it. Then the two of them were gone.
Jay was in the middle of a poker game when the Gold King bells went off.
He’d managed to keep his cool throughout the entire night, but the blood drained from his face when he heard the loud clanging noise echoing through the casino. He turned to see the cartoon statue gamboling in place, flashing its toothy smile at the surrounding players. The scepter in its hand was dancing with flecks of neon light.
No, he thought in disbelief. No, not yet! I was almost there!
He’d been so close to the $19,000 mark that this poker game would probably have pushed him over the edge. The Gold King had gone off just as he was about to play his final hand. Now he watched the statue spin in lazy circles, its hideous bells still ringing in his eardrums.
“Hey,” a voice said suddenly. It was the dealer, trying to get Jay’s attention. “Hey buddy, this is the last hand. Are you calling or folding?”
Jay looked at him in surprise, then down at the cards in his shaky fingers. He hadn’t even bothered to look at them yet. What was even stranger, his usual powers of perception were failing him. He knew what all the other hands looked like, he knew who was bluffing through their teeth and who posed a legitimate threat, but he didn’t even know what cards he was holding.
He wondered how long it would take for Farrow’s men to cut through the crowd and take him away. He figured he had about thirty seconds, a minute at most. Was it possible? Could he make enough off this hand to complete Farrow’s sick challenge? The Gold King hadn’t finished its death knoll yet when the final hand was dealt. It was a technicality, but he was banking on it. It might just save Marcy and Trace’s lives. Now it was up to these last five cards to decide if they saw the light of another day.
He offered a quick prayer to a God he never believed in. Then he turned the cards over and stared down at the hand he’d been dealt.