My downward spiral of bad decisions began the same way that many such spirals begin... with a trip to Las Vegas. I was on a road trip for spring break with a few guys I know from campus. Normally, spring break was when I would launch myself into an RPG, and spend the entire time making that game my bitch. I take a sort of perverse joy out of finding the perfect exploits in a game, to make my character or party unstoppable. Skyrim was like motherfucking Christmas for me, as was Fallout 3 and New Vegas. Of course, what really makes me happy is finding a game that I can't 'break', and instead have to conquer through my own skills...
But I digress. This time, I had a sort of... thought experiment that I wanted to perform, one that I had already given a quick test while playing Poker Night and Poker Night 2 over the last few weeks, with surprisingly impressive results. Now, however, I felt that I was ready to test things out in the big leagues. And that, right there, was my first big mistake.
What was I wanting to test? Well, we'll get to that shortly.
Anyways, each of the guys had brought with them about $500 cash, and were talking a good game about how they planned on winning big. You know, the same way that everyone else does up until about five minutes into their trip, if they're planning on gambling. I kept silent. I knew these guys, and I'd tried giving them the one piece of advice my father gave me about gambling: Never wager more than you can afford to lose. They didn't listen to me, which is why, when they got home, they were probably going to be eating ramen noodles for the rest of the semester. Me? I had $500 that, if I lost it, would hurt, but I wouldn't starve.
My second mistake was that, when it came to choosing the casino where we'd be staying at, I urged towards one of the smaller casinos. Had we selected one of the larger ones...
Well, we didn't. We picked a fairly modest, newer looking one.
Anyways, my fellow would-be gamblers and I soon went about our business. Their business was trying, and failing, to win big. It went about as well as you would expect it to go for six college guys who may as well have had the word 'Bro' tattooed on their foreheads. They'd burned through their money in less than half an hour. One of them lost all of theirs in less than five minutes.
This was supposed to be a five-day long visit, and my main contribution to this venture was the establishment of a 'pool' that we'd use to pay for our accommodations, one that I managed and that no one else would touch without talking to me first. Had we not done so, I was certain that they'd have started pulling from the money that they had planned to use to pay for our hotel rooms and our food for the entirety of our stay, possibly even the money needed for the return trip. Instead, they'd at least be able to hang by the pool, get their drink on, and enjoy the finer features of a Las Vegas casino hotel.
As for me?
I had hit the Texas Hold'em tables, and put my thought experiment to work... and with spectacular results. Day one, I had increased my gambling funds ten fold, leaving me with $5,000. The players at the table changed several times over the next six hours, but that had no real impact on my winning streak. Well, not quite a winning streak, really. I did end up folding a fair number of games, but when I won, I won a whole lot more than I lost. I should have stopped then and there, taken my winnings and gone about my business, but I made my third mistake: I got greedy. On my second day, I decided to got to the higher-rolling tables, and started making even more money. By the third day, my modest $500 had transformed into $500,000 dollars. I'd gone through eighty different players of varying skill levels, had amassed a small following of spectators, and was starting to make plans to move to one of the bigger casinos, and the real high rollers. The kind who played using the word 'million' fairly often...
And that was when a couple of very large, very intimidating men told me that the owner of the casino wanted to see me. Thankfully, I didn't make mistake number four by declining: These two goons looked less like men and more like shaved gorillas in off-the-rack suits and ray-bans. I had the feeling that either I would be going with them, or going with them with a number of unpleasant bruises and maybe a few broken bones.
A few minutes later, I was sitting in the office of the boss himself. It was... surprisingly pleasant. It looked less like what I would have expected from the owner of a gambling establishment, or more like the office of a librarian or a college dean. The owner himself was just as much of a surprise: He looked like he might have only been a couple of years older than I was, a kid just out of college with brown hair, brown eyes, and a surprisingly friendly demeanor. He was well dressed in an Italian suit, a gold watch, and a very big smile.
His grin only expanded when I was set down in a chair in front of his desk, and he pulled out a folder. He plopped it down on the desk, and then extended his hand. "Henry Holiday," he said, introducing himself with a slight southern accent. "Most folks call me 'Doc', at least, the ones who don't call me boss."
I looked over at the folder, and gulped, seeing my name on it. I shook his hand, and said, "Ambrose Rey, but I think you already knew that."
Henry laughed at that, then gestured towards the folder. "That thing? Oh, I had someone put your file together yesterday, when it was clear that you were on a winning streak. Gotta love the internet: Used to be, it took days, or even weeks, to get this kind of information, at least according to my grandaddy. These days, you can have it in less than five minutes. I thumbed through it, and I have to admit, I was surprised. I was expecting you to have a degree in electrical engineering. You know, someone who might have made some sort of a doodad that would let him spy on the other players on the table, or a wireless communication device that would let him communicate with a partner undetected, one who might be watching what the other players had in their hands. You know, the stuff that's been tried before. I wasn't expecting someone working on a double major in Applied Probability and Statistics and Computer Science." With another chuckle, he said, "Although I guess it might make a little more sense, given the circumstances."
I gulped at that. I had the impression that he had an idea of what I had been up to back there at the poker tables...
With a half-smile, he said, "Now, I don't want you to fret none, Hoss. You're not in trouble. At least, you're not in trouble yet." He shrugged, then said, "That might change, depending on the outcome of this conversation, but since you haven't actually stolen anything from me, you're not going to be walking out of here on crutches or carried out on a gurney, or anything cliche like that."
That was mostly accurate: Poker games, when held at a casino, are played with the money held by the players, not the house. The house takes around five percent of the winnings (You can consider it the fee for providing a fair and impartial dealer), but other than that, the only money lost is that of whoever happens to lose the game. For the house, it's pure profit.
While reassuring, that didn't take the danger completely out of the situation: There's plenty of things that you can do to a man that can ruin his life without ever actually touching him...
"One of my favorite things in Las Vegas is the magicians," the boss said, the grin on his face back in full force. "In a way, they kinda represent Vegas as a whole. People come to see the magicians, but the truth is, there isn't a single bit of magic in anything they do. It's all smoke and mirrors, misdirection, deception. People know that, they understand that, and yet they still come to see it, because while it may all be a lie, it's an amazing lie. A beautiful lie. It's a lie that fills the heart with wonder and awe. And that's Vegas in a nutshell."
Confused, I asked, "Excuse me?"
With a knowing laugh, 'Doc' said, "The lie is that you can come to Las Vegas and become a millionaire. However, 'The House Always Wins', right? It's a truth as old as the casinos. Hell, it was old before the first casino sprang up in Vegas, and has been the truth for just about every gambling house that has sprung up since time began. Casinos exist, first and foremost, to turn a profit. People come here, looking to win big, but the truth is, most people who come to Vegas leave poorer, not richer. And yet, everyone comes here, looking for the chance to win it big. But that's not the real reason why people come to a casino. People, or at least the smart people, come to Vegas for the same reason people ride roller coasters: The excitement."
At my disbelieving expression, the boss said, "People get a kick out of the experience of gambling. The surge of adrenaline as the roulette ball bounces on the wheel, when the dealer flips over his cards to reveal whether or not his hand if better than yours, there's nothing like it. It's that excitement, that thrill, that draws people to Vegas, and it's that thrill that hooks people on gambling. It's a high that never loses its edge, unlike a lot of the drugs people hook themselves on, and in Las Vegas, 'gambling' is the biggest drug there is, and the casinos are the biggest dealers." He gave another chuckle at the pun, then added, "Most addicts chase one kind of dragon or another. In Vegas, gamblers chase a dragon made of gold."
"And sometimes, they catch the dragon," I inserted into the conversation.
Henry nodded, his expression serious for the first time since I had walked into the room. "Of course," he admitted, "That's why it's called gambling: You might lose, but you might also win. But the odds of winning are much lower than the odds of losing. What casinos offer is the chance of winning big, as well as the thrill inherent in risking your money to win." His smile creeped back up and he asked, "But my original subject was magicians, right?"
I nodded.
His smile back in full force, Henry said, "I love magic tricks, and I always have. There's always a trick, and I love finding out how it's done. Given my position here, I've gotten to peek behind the curtain of a number of magicians as they performed their tricks. It spoils the fun in some ways, but I can't help but want to see what the truth is behind the trick. It's an itch I just have to scratch, and in my position, I've seen a number of different tricks attempted on the casino floor. Yours, however, may be the best so far." He chuckled at my worried expression, and said, "I've spent almost three days watching you, Hoss, as you put on a magic show to an audience of gamblers and casino patrons, and while I've watched you work, I've ruled out what the trick can't be. I know that there's nothing up your sleeves, given that you've worn short sleeves the entire time you've been here, and I've had people walk by you with all sorts of little gizmos to make sure that there's not some sort of radio or something, feeding you info on your opponents. Hell, you've kept your hands on the table all throughout, and never once even looked at your phone while on the floor. So, it's pretty clear it isn't cheating, or at least, not something most people would call cheating. You've got an impressive magic trick going. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to share my theory with you about how you've managed to perform a trick that allowed you to change $500 to $500k in less than three days."
Alright, moment of truth...
I nodded, then said, "Shoot."
"You're created a mathematical equation," 'Doc' theorized, his expression serious again. "It's probably a very complex equation, or maybe a set of equations, that break down Texas Hold'em, giving you a fairly accurate idea of whether or not you will win any given hand. You came here to test to see how accurate it was. However, the real trick is, you can do all of that math in your head, and do it in a few seconds, something that almost no one else on earth can manage."
I nodded, and then admitted, "I've noted a 5% margin of error, but yes, that's more or less it." Admittedly, it was easier when playing Poker Night, since each of the characters had some pretty major tells which allowed me to gauge whether or not they were bluffing, but with the numbers on my side, I'd managed to make a killing at Texas Hold'em in real life. There might be fifteen, or maybe even twenty, people on the planet who could calculate the odds on the fly like I had at each stage of the game, without needing a calculator or a pen and paper in their hands, but I've always had a gift for numbers.
It could only work with Texas Hold'em, though, since there's such a small number of unknown variables: Each player has only two cards that they keep hidden, and the remaining five cards are revealed, one by one, into a common pool. Therefore, it's not so much a matter of figuring out the odds of getting a winning hand, but instead the odds of anyone else at the table getting a better hand than you. There's a lot more to it then that, like how much to bet, and when, but the meat of it was, I could calculate, better than almost any other player at the table, whether or not I had the best hand on the table, so I could call my opponent's bluffs, knowing full well when they were full of hot air, and I could calculate when best to raise, when to call, and when it might be a good idea to bluff myself. I knew when to hold'em, and I knew when to fold'em. Sadly, I'd not learned when to walk away, nor when to run. That had been mistake number four. I should have quit while I was ahead, or at least hit several casinos on the strip, instead of sticking to just one. I'd given the management all the time they'd needed to figure my trick out...
Henry's smile returned as said, "I thought so." Sitting back in his chair, he steepled his fingers and said, "But that leaves me with a minor problem: What am I going to do about you?" At my almost panicked expression, he held up a hand and said, "You and me, we don't have a problem: My casino makes the same amount of money, whether you win or lose. However, Las Vegas and the gambling community as a whole probably will care a great deal." With a shrug, he said, "There are two kinds of black lists in Vegas. One is reserved for cheaters, people who come in with gimmicks, tricks, and what have you, things that are specifically against the rules of the games here in Vegas. The cheaters. Those are the guys who tend to get taken to a back room and... educated on the folly of their dishonest ways." He smiled and said, "The second, well, you might call it a 'gold' list. It's reserved for men and women who are just too good at gambling, folks who, if given the chance, could clean the casino out with relative ase. Since all you've demonstrated is that you're better at calculating the odds than anyone else here in Vegas, you'll be going on the latter."
I wasn't exactly surprised to hear that. I'd heard that Ben Affleck had been banned from playing Blackjack at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino simply because he was too good at playing the game. There were men who could roll the dice, any pair of dice, so well that they could always make it come up the way they wanted, no tricks, no gimmicks, they just rolled the dice and the numbers came up. There were even card sharks who could make the cards dance so well that they could, after shuffling the deck, accurately predict what the top twenty or thirty cards would be, and in what order they would appear. It wasn't cheating, they were just too skilled at playing the game to be allowed to continue playing it competitively.
"As the owner of a casino in Las Vegas, I'm required to report when something like this happens, especially with a card game as popular as Texas Hold'em. However, since this isn't cheating, just an incredibly accurate way of predicting the outcome of a hand, I'm not going to report it today, as long as you give me the details on this equation you've worked out, just in case it pops up again. What I am going to do is this: You and your friends are going to be here for just two more days, if I what I've heard is correct." I nodded, and he continued, saying, "So, if you want to keep going, feel free." Henry gave another one of those smiles and said, "Like I said, the house makes money, regardless of who wins. If you want to try fleecing some of our whales, go right ahead. The more they bet, and lose, the more money I get."
His expression turned serious again, and he added, "However, after you leave, I will be reporting what you did this week to the folks who need to know. What that means is that, after this week, if you ever walk into a casino and sit down at a poker table, or sign up for a poker tournament, or even sign up for an online gambling website, people will know, other people will be told, and you will be asked to back out of the game. Make a habit of trying to make money off of Texas Hold'em, though, and... well, take my advice, and stop while you're ahead. You've made a killing so far, and you might make even more, if anyone is foolish enough to play against you this week. However, once you leave Vegas, the ride ends."
I nodded in understanding. That $500k I won was more than enough to keep me in the black for a long, long time. It would keep me in video games, anime, and manga for years to come, and once I was out of college, I had the start-up money for my own indy gaming company...
"I understand, and... I think I'm done with gambling," I admitted. I'm a pretty crazy guy in some respects, but having the two gorillas march me in here had kinda put me off of gambling for, well, forever. If this had been the days when old-school gangsters had been running the show, I might have ended up with my head and/or my nuts in a vise. Doc seemed like a decent guy, thank goodness, but if he'd suspected for a second that I really was cheating, he would not have been nearly so friendly.
Yet if I'd chosen one of the bigger casinos, maybe I'd not have been noticed at all, and made millions without anyone realizing...
Oh well, them's the breaks.
"Good," the boss said, then smiled one more time, and added, "And hey, if you need a job after you graduate college, come see me: My old man owns a number of gambling establishments in Las Vegas, Reno, and Atlantic City, and he could always use a good handicapper."
And that was how I ended up getting banned from gambling forever, and got a job offer, on the exact same day.
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Have to say, Henry 'Doc' Holiday really was a pretty nice guy. After our little talk, he put me and my friends up in the penthouse suite of his casino for the rest of our stay, and covered the cost of our room service on top of that. Over the next two days, the two of us shared a few drinks, shot some pool, had a few of the kinds of misadventures that two guys can get into in Las Vegas while spectacularly drunk, and became pretty decent friends. For the owner of a casino and a guy born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he was, impossibly enough, a decent person as well...
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A starry night over the Mojave Desert is one of the most breath-taking sights you will ever experience. It was so beautiful, in fact, that it did a magnificent job of distracting me from the fact that I couldn't feel anything below my neck for several minutes, until a noise brought my attention to more earthly concerns, namely the coyote trying to get into my abdominal cavity. He wasn't having a whole lot of luck, though: He looked to be only a pup, so his teeth weren't up to the job of getting through my skin. It was kinda cute to watch him, though...
Weird how I couldn't feel that. In fact, how the hell was I even in the middle of the desert, paralyzed from the neck down, with a coyote pup trying to work his way to my soft, gooey center?
*You're here because you did something really, really stupid.*
Huh. I must have been going crazy: I was obviously hallucinating all of this, and now I had a voice in my head. Besides, what exactly did I do that could have been so stupid?
*You told a bunch of tall, well-muscled guys that had suddenly run out of money that you had five hundred thousand dollars cash in your suitcase on the ride home from Las Vegas.*
Okay, yeah, that does sound pretty stupid. They must have given me a serious beatdown and left me for dead...
Wow, look at that coyote pup go. He's a real go-getter, isn't he?
*Focus, dimwit.* There was an impression of a sigh, followed by, *How can someone so smart be so unforgivably stupid?*
No idea. Oh hey, the pup is starting break the skin! I knew you had it in you, buddy! You're a champion! I'm gonna name you Mister Pringles, and once I get back the feeling in my limbs, I'll adopt you, raise you to be my best friend, and together we'll go on amazing adventures. We'll walk the earth, going from town to town, righting wrongs and dispensing justice, fridays at eight, seven central.
*Wow. You must have taken some damage to the head back there. I know for a fact that they did a number on your spine...* A pause, and then, *Yeah, your brain is pretty much pudding now, and your spine is almost completely pulverized. That, plus the internal injuries, mean that if the coyotes don't finish you, then the internal bleeding will finish the job in about fifteen minutes.*
Oh, hey, look, it's Mister Pringles' mommy! My goodness, what sharp teeth you have! I'm gonna name you Miss Smiley!
There was another impression of a sigh, and then suddenly everything went black.
*I've done you a favor, and turned off your connection to your body's eyeballs. I don't think that you want the last thing you saw to be a coyote eating your intestines.*
Noooo, Mister Pringles, don't go! I was going to make an honest woman of your mommy, and then we'd be a big, happy family!
*Aaaaannnnnnd I'll go ahead and cut off the connection to the rest of your body as well, so you'll stop thinking like an idiot.*
I... oh. Am... am I dead?
*The answer to that lies between a yes and a no. Your body is in the process of dying, but everything that isn't your body has been preserved.*
Why?
*Someone wants to bring me back from the dead, and is going to great lengths to make it happen. I'd rather not come back, given the state of the world. While getting out of Hades would be nice, I'm not up to the task ahead. They need a hero, and I'm pretty much the opposite of that. So, I need someone to stand in my place, fight the good fight and all that business. Sadly, the number of individuals who are compatible with my body is almost vanishingly low, and you... you moronic, drooling numbskull, are the most capable and intelligent of the lot by a wide margin.*
The way he said that last part left a distinct impression that he wanted to end that sentence with 'God help us all'.
I have to be dreaming, this can't possibly be real...
*Keep telling yourself that. You'll see the truth soon enough. Just do me a favor and try not to mess things up too badly. You're my reprieve from Hades. Try not to make it a short one.*
I'm gonna close my eyes, go to sleep, and when I wake up, it'll be saturday morning at my apartment, and none of this will have ever happened...
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I shook my head, trying to clear out what couldn't possibly be my memories. If all of that had been true, then by all rights, I should be dead. Yet here I was, even if it was a hallucination. You can't hallucinate if you're dead. It wasn't real. Neither was this. It couldn't be...
"Are you okay?" Sunset asked, breaking me from my reverie.
Looking over at her, I said, "I'm alright. Just... a little out of sorts. I'll be okay."
"I see a light in the distance," Ladyhawke said to my right. "I think we're almost to our destination."
I looked as well. There was definitely a light, and it seemed to be coming from a doorway. The archon was standing beside it, silent and impassive. I'd ask how it had gotten ahead of us, but I was more or less all out of give-a-fuck at the moment in regards to the ways of that shiny golden bastard.
As we approached, the archon stated, "The central control chamber is up the stairs, three flights, then go down the hallway. You'll know when you get there."
A little annoyed, I asked, "And if we don't know it when we get there?"
The archon gave me a look, then paused, and said, "I will go with you, to ensure that even a fool like you will know when you've arrived at your destination."
Okay, I admit, I kinda had that coming...