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[Completed]a bunch of greased up dudes; they're all slippin and slidin around it's good times, really
Topic Started: Oct 3 2017, 05:25 PM (588 Views)
fridaynightpizza
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Muerte stumbled into the lobby of the Kitty Cat half asleep. His brain was rattled by the jet lag and he was delirious from the copious drinking he'd accomplished both on his flight, and in the short amount of time he'd spent putting his things in his hotel room. Muerte wasn't accustomed to personal failure and as such was taking the lack of progress he'd made on nen quite hard. Though as always he was determined to not let his circumstances faze him. He decided eventually that it was time he'd earned a vacation, and travelled to a high end location he always meant to visit after retiring from his craft.

In the midst of his stupor he put on his fanciest suit braving the scorching heat briefly before reaching his destination. It was late in the afternoon when he arrived though it still managed to be sweltering outside. He was used to this kind of climate growing up in Mexicoh. He preferred it colder.

As usual, while inebriated he had absolutely no control of his actions and was unknowingly making a complete ass of himself. His body swayed dramatically as he strut along and the volume of his voice was much louder than socially acceptable. With the best of his abilities he located the infamous alternative gambling section. He admittedly wasn't very good at traditional card games and would usually get bored quickly of those that relied solely on luck. He'd made many attempts to join gambling society as the establishments tended to have the right atmosphere of gaudiness he preferred to find himself in, but his escapades usually ended as soon as he'd gotten particularly upset with the outcome of whatever game he'd taken to for the night. Above anything else he wasn't fond of having his time wasted.

It was when he'd heard about the games for offer at the Kitty Cat that his intrigue piqued. Among the usual assortment of attractions, there was a room delegated to games involving something he was quite fond of; public humiliation and degradation. Muerte had quite a taste for sadism, and though the casino did its best to portray it in a somewhat lighthearted manner for appearances, the events that went on beyond these doors were more than cruel enough to satiate him.

Here, men would be subjected to all kinds of debasement. Those who'd either incurred significant debts or merely had no pride to begin with would throw themselves into all sorts of terrible games in the hopes of making a quick buck. The main pull for most of the gamblers was the human race track. A mockery of the 100 yard dash where each competitor would be dressed up in all manner of ridiculous garb and forced to race down a track absolutely covered in grease. The first to make it to the other side would be rewarded handsomely, though not nearly in comparison to the amounts the actual customers would make had they made the right bet. The runners up would still receive a fraction of the prize, as to ensure the entertainment went on as long as possible.

There were five men currently going at it. One dressed as a pirate, one a clown, a chicken, police officer and an elf. Their costumes mostly consisted of unflattering brightly colored leotards with big number placards and various over the top props as to convey the idea of their character without going into too much effort. Seeing as most of it would fall off by the time they made it to the other side. There were a handful of other characters but it was clear the idea was mostly an afterthought.

Muerte was already giddy looking at the misery and desperation expressed on their faces as he took a seat. It seemed they were about half way done with this race and then the next group would be announced during a brief intermission and bets could be placed. He glanced over at a few of the other events but decided they weren't as interesting as the main event. There seemed to be a game where four men had to fight over a briefcase as they were similarly greased up, and a game where they competed to consume a large amount of disgusting food and drink items the fastest. Maybe he'd explore them later, but they didn't have quite the production value of the track.

The clown seemed to be in first place, just over halfway down the line with the police officer in a close second. The chicken and the elf were about tied and the pirate was dead last. Muerte couldn't help but bellow in laughter at their faces, red and scrunched. And there were no shortage of slips from all contestants. He'd probably be happy enough just watching, but he was excited to bet on a horse of his own.
Edited by fridaynightpizza, Oct 3 2017, 05:31 PM.
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Wanderer
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Wanderer, eater of two cakes, taker of threesomes

He's not a bad man...he just...he needs help. I don't want you to hurt him or have him arrested. He knows Brando and he knows Fiora. He doesn't know your face. Please help get him home. He has obligations here.

Genma couldn't help but roll the note's words around in his head as the driver neared the casino. Karuso was a gambler. A compulsive one. It had gotten him into enough trouble that his wife contacted the office for assistance in getting him home. An atypical case to be certain but it was not out of the skillset of the firm as much as it was apparently beneath it. Genma, Fiora and Brando knew that was far from the truth. It wasn't that the firm was struggling from lack of patrons but that sometimes cases were not in their best interest to work on, plain and simple.

Genma began his eight rotation of reading to note back to himself when the taxi came to a sudden stop, Genma's body being pushed forward for a moment. He steadied himself and stepped out of the cab into the night. He breathed it in deep and he smiled. The weather was perfect and he was slowly allowing himself to enjoy the idea of going to the Kitty Cat, work or not. He wasn't to most intense gambler but he saw the point in all of it and enjoyed it well enough. He neared the front entrance, noticing the line snaking around the building and he gritted his teeth for a moment. Then pressed forward. His hand gripped the wallet with the hunter's license a bit too hard and he felt a bit ridiculous. He didn't like having to resort to using his license to get into places he could otherwise use real skills to access. This time, he didn't have the will to hold himself back.

He neared the doorman, checked his suit and took a deep breath. He put his 'authority figure' face on and when the doorman stuck his meaty hand out to stop him, Genma glared and flipped his wallet open to reveal his hunter's license. He fought back a smile and looked at the bald headed, nighttime sunglasses wearing doorman.

"I'm working. Mind lettin' me in?"

The bouncer let out an annoyed tchhh but he un clipped the velvet rope stanchion, letting Genma in without much more than a quick stink eye as he re clipped it closed to the line in front of him. Several young men and women who waited in line complained aloud as Genma hurried inside. He felt none of the superiority the people in the line seemed to despise but it wasn't the time for him to have a talk with them about the benefits of having a hunter's license. He felt suave and important and that felt good no matter who you were. As the small entrance way opened into the casino itself, Genma gaped as he entered. The place was crimson and red in it's carpet and walls with various neon green, pink and yellow signs signaling things. He smiled this time, pulling the suit at the wrist to make sure it felt snug as he strode further inside. He made a short stop at a bar nearby, ordering a vodka soda with lime and then began his search.

The man was apparently easy to spot and Genma only worried much about his hair, as that was what apparently was his most noticeable feature. Bright red but 'slightly' balding according to his wife. He wasn't sure it'd be easy to find in a place like this because as far as he could tell the majority of the clientele were easily unique from one another. He'd seen a man with technological goggles of sorts over the top half of his head and a woman with hair that had a live snake resting in it. Hunters or not, he could tell many of these people were much more than the plain looking folks outside in line. He quickly scanned the room and looking into a back corner, his heart dropped. Was his fun really over already?

Karuso stood nervously talking with another large man like the doorman but this time with long curly hair and a clearly multiple times broken nose. The man shoved Karuso into a back room and went back to his post. Genma sighed and strode once again across the room, doing his best to look less annoyed than he already was. He took a sip of his drink and approached Broken Nose. He smiled. He wasn't going to use his license trick this time. He nodded at the man then confidently nodded his head at the door. The man nodded and opened it for him. That easy? Genma wasn't about to complain. As he entered the room all manner of nonsense blossomed in front of his very eyes.

Men betting on who will be able to stab a knife between their fingers the fastest without cutting themselves. Women who were showing off their 'assets' to men as they bet on a chart that said 'Man' or a matching chart that said 'Woman' but on the far end of the room he saw a long pathway with men slipping and sliding down it in some race. They were even dressed up in some sort of thematic dress. Genma was confused. He hadn't seen Karuso either and while worried, he was undoubtedly drawn to the wacky race ahead of him. He approached, filling in behind a beast of a man in a...wrestling mask? He was smiling wide, watching the race. Genma would look at him and nod if they met eyes, otherwise he too was watching the race unfold, drink in hand.



Edited by Wanderer, Oct 11 2017, 10:50 PM.
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fridaynightpizza
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As the race neared its climax, the clown in first place took a nasty spill. While he clutched his ankle in agony, the officer surpassed him and soon the elf managed to edge just ahead of the chicken. Eventually he overcame the intense pain and began crawling pathetically towards the finish line, hoping at least he could manage third place, but the remaining competitors quickly overtook him. Several of the men who were egging him on just moments ago were now cursing and shouting in disbelief as if God himself were responsible for their misfortune.

Muerte was in tears over the whole debacle, doubled over laughing at both the desperate act of the clown and the anger of the men who'd bet on him. He would've forgotten about the next round of betting entirely if it hadn't been for the announcement of the PA. He quickly centered himself and started to make his way over to the betting booth. He ignored the usual amount of sideways glances as he stepped in line. It was something he was long accustomed to as a symptom of his towering presence.

Some men could be heard either complaining or gloating over the results of the previous bout as they plodded along. The booth had an overlay of both the outcome of the prior race and the one upcoming. The numbers of the participants were different, but for the most part the characters of the race were the same. In this race instead of a chicken and a police officer there was a ninja and a knight. There were also a few stats for those participating in the race. Their height, weight, and their success ratio. Muerte decided to pick a rookie, someone who hadn't been in the race before but had much higher odds as a result. He figured while he wanted to win he'd be happy enough just watching the escapade and taking part. His was #11, a clown. Muerte was far too invested in the race to pay attention to his surroundings, and as such accidentally collided with the hunter as he made way to his seat.

"My apologies," he said, not even glancing up from the ticket he was looking over.
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Wanderer
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Wanderer, eater of two cakes, taker of threesomes

From Genma's vantage at the point where the race began, he had a hard time seeing all the details of the race clearly but he could tell what had happened. The clown had taken an injury and as a result ended in last place while the police officer won, the elf remained in second and the chicken in third. Genma looked baffled at the display before him and he wanted to feel empathetic at the pathetic race as it unfolded but he fought down that urge, knowing the men were in the race for their own reasons. He sighed to himself and decided that Karuso wouldn't be going anywhere just yet. He would allow himself a small break in his work to engage in the bizarre. He actually needed this to some extent as well.

He forced himself to let his eyes roam the room once more, surprising himself as he saw Karuso again, betting with a smile on his face not far away. He could finish this job here and now and go home but what would be the point? He felt good in the suit and he already felt like he wanted another drink. His professionalism as a Crime Hunter and Private Detective was honestly tiring and this man was not going to murder anyone or commit any serious crimes in the next hour. Genma smiled and finished his drink, giving Karuso one last harrah before he ruined his fun and took him home to his wife and kids.

He turned not long after the hulk of a man that had stood next to him but strolled past him on the way to the betting table, being in line a few people ahead of him. Genma placed his bet, on the Ninja of course, and moved back to an empty seat he'd scoped out before. He loved Drake's old detective flicks filmed back in the day in Cinema City but his other slightly more guilty pleasure was his love for the 'Ninja's Aura' series meant for men in their early twenties. They were movies centered around a different member of a long lost Japponese clan with each film that all work for a rich patron who sends them all over the world to do his bidding. He'd always liked the Ninja trope since childhood when his father had sent him photos of an old ninja clan's treasure he'd helped recover in his work. Genma had a crush on Okei Hanashiba, the actress who played the most recently highlighted member of the clan. He had her in mind with his drunken bet.

He was about to sit in his seat with a new drink he'd snatched from a passing waiter, of what type he had no idea, but he was fine with anything at this point. The large man from before accidentally bumped him and apologized. Genma stared up into his hulking countenance and spoke quickly thanks to his rapidly drunk mind. "Who'd you bet on?" He said without looking. He was feeling friendly.



Edited by Wanderer, Oct 18 2017, 02:14 PM.
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fridaynightpizza
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Muerte's ears piqued at the response. Shaken loose from his daydreaming he turned to the man with a toothy grin.

"I chose the fool. For that way the outcome of the match will be most entertaining no matter how it ends. If the fool succeeds, the grief and suffering on the faces of the losers shall be all the more palpable being bested by the fool. If the fool fails, his humiliation will be tenfold," he chuckled quietly to himself, "The elf and the chicken are okay, but the rest aren't nearly funny enough. They should've gone with a baby, or a little girl, or a homeless person!" spit went flying from his mouth as he erupted in laughter at the thought of his 'improved roster' and he walked along to his seat, not considering in his stupor that the conversation might not have been over.

The casino was quite busy the day Muerte had arrived, and the House was forced to make more money drops than usual. They did their best to be as subtle as possible, but anyone who was paying attention would've caught on easily to the fact. Though he'd momentarily resurfaced, Muerte had now delved deeper in his concentration of the upcoming race now that it was more than entertainment and he had money on the line. His chair started creaking under his immense weight rocking back and forth excitedly like an oversized child.
Edited by fridaynightpizza, Nov 4 2017, 11:18 AM.
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Lejinoss Taibug
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A proud bouncer was valiantly defending the entrance of fort Kitty Kat. His job was to check if one was wealthy enough to spend a lifetime of savings in this establishement. In some sort, he had the same professionnal skills as a banker did, except he was earning ten times less and weighting three times its weight.
As bald as he was unpleasant, he never hesitated when he had to throw away the paupers stupid enough to waste the little they had in useless bets. Some of them went flying over Leji's head who was wearing the fanciest suit he could rob. When came the time to confront the guardian of the casino, he was ready.

- Mister... Reyna Delko that's right ?

Whispering between his teeth in front of that huge specimen of human being who looked even more intimidating from a closer perspective, the insidious thief whispered between his teeth :

- Monkey knows how to read.

Whereas he was trying to figure out something fishy on the I.D Lejinoss just handed him, the said monkey raised his eyes. He heard each and every of these vicious syllabs that insulted him. Yet, his job wasn't to let the more polites in, only the wealthy ones, scumbag or not. Even if he felt like beating that moustached son of bitch to a pulp, the bouncer remained calm and said nicely.

- According to your birth date, I see you're seventy.

« Monkey knows how to count » would have been an obvious reply but it lacked of originality. Most of the flies attracted by the Kitty Kat's smell happened to be surrounded by bodyguards, the only wallet Leji could stole belonged to some dying old debris of what seemed to be a man. Looking fresh for his late thirties, even after he skilfully replaced the photo on the I.D, Leji looked suspicious with that sly smile of his.

- You sure look vigorous for someone your age sir.

Since the monkey wasn't looking on the I.D anymore, the thief nimbly removed it from his thick hands in order to put in back in his vest. Despite what the bouncer just implied, Taibug didn't feel like he was spotted for what he really was. The trick in order to be above any kind of suspicion was to look confident enough. As long as a man had enough nerve to deceive anyone, the world could belong to him.

- If you need my plastic surgeon's number, just ask boy. You might be way younger than I am, but that skin of your sure could need some treatment.

And he casually approached his hands to touch the face that was overhanging above him, looking like he was as disgusted by the look of it as well as the way it felt when he layed his nimble fingers on it. The man stepped back, obviously pissed but didn't send Leji flying away despite his pressing urge to do so.

- Sir... sir... SIR ! Quit trying to touch my face !

Behind Taibug, a line of fancy soon-to-be clients were doing the best they can not to laugh. Wanting to put an end to his public humiliation, the guardian of the temple of greed that stood behing him opened the path to the annoying and crafty man he couldn't stand anymore.

- Just... Just go in sir.

Taking his most pretentious tone and rearranging his vest before obeying to that order he was waiting for, Lejinoss added :

- A~~lright then !

After a few steps in, he couldn't help but to sneer when he heard the monkey grunting :

- These damn old jeezers I swear...

Inside, Leji felt disappointed. The Kitty Kat looked like most of the casino he went in. The place was uselessly pomp and shiny, gamblers here seemed as stupid as anywhere else. Anyway, he didn't came here to throw money he didn't have around. He knew that this place had the highest concentration of wealth in Chance Town, and that was enough to satisfy him.
Looking around, watching at each of these greedy face that were swaggering in each and every corner of the casino, Leji wondered how someone could feel any gratification in betting on luck, something they couldn't control.
Hands in his pockets, he suddenly grabbed a champagne cup that a waiter was carrying among others on a silver plate.

- Sir, this cup wasn't for you but for...

- Do you know who I am ?

Instantly replied Leji in a devious way looking both cunning and full of himself. The poor boy who was just doing his job stiffened, thinking he offended the pope himself and left after apologizing. Drinking a first gulp of his champagne, Lejinoss watched him recede while muttering to himself :

- Of course you don't. If you knew I'd be handcuffed right know dumbass.

Leaving his empty cup on a slot machine, both hands in his pockets, slightly vaulted, he wandered around, discreetly stealing chips that were exceeding from everyone's pockets. After one hour of easy thefts, he knew he had to play at least one game to justify the fact he was now so full of money.
That's when his gaze was attracted by on the most curious show he ever saw. Getting nearer, he asked to some masked man among the viewers if he was indeed seeing what he was seeing. Some men were running in grease while being disguised in the most ludicrous way. Analyzing this in depth, he slightly smirked. It was easy to predict who would be the winner, at that game, the biggest guy always seemed to win, getting in the way of the other contestant and slowly but surely sliding to the finish line.

Giving a friendly tap on the shoulder of what looked more than a masked bear than a masked man, Leji left the viewers spot to find the maniac who organized that event. In order to attract his attention, he flippantly snapped his fingers in front of his face.

- Say, anyone can participate in that kind of...

He hesitated while taking an other look to the contestants.

- … race ?

- Sure man ! All you need is a costume and a blatant lack of pride, think you got what it takes ?

Still putting his wicked smile on display, Leji slowly shook his head from right to left to decline but raised his finger pointing the gigantic masked beast he met earlier.

- You got anything his size ?

Despite Muerte's physical calibre, the organizer managed to find the only costume that could fit to a beast his size. Now, Leji had to be subtle enough to persuade his winning horse to endorse the outfit. Going back where he met him, the crafty thief kept snapping his fingers being as rude as ever.

- Hey, big guy, see the guy dressed as a clown down there ?

He pointed some poor fellow full of grease that was participating the actual race.

- I heard him say, and I quote , « If I were to contest with that masked fag up there, I'd bury him in grease », just like that ! With no reason.

He then brandished the costume he was carrying around, grinning in a sly way, already thinking about all the money he would make if Muerte were to participate in the race by betting on him.

- Wanna prove him wrong ?
Edited by Lejinoss Taibug, Dec 18 2017, 02:37 AM.
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Jacob rest his chin on the backs of his fingers with a sigh, looking out over the race. Strands of deep red hair hung down in front of his face from where the rabbit had raked it all to one side in a stylish coiffeur, and he casually brushed one out of his face with a flick of his wrist. He had taken off his Lion's Paw - it wouldn't look good at all with the black silk off-the-shoulder dress he was wearing - and had it tucked in a neat little matching purse, which meant both hands were bare, exposing his smooth and tawny skin. He'd even swapped out the studs he usually wore in his ears for slender silver hoops, but...now, as he watched the race draw to a close, he wondered if it was worth it.

He was bored.

Normally, Jacob didn't have anything to do with gambling; you didn't learn anything, and more often than not you ended up leaving with less than you came in with. And yet, he'd heard rumors of something interesting here. Something that would perk his interest, his desire for new information. Of course, you couldn't just walk into a casino like the Kitty Kat in just your street clothes. And they didn't just let anyone in, either...So he'd found a way in through one of the back ways. It always surprised him how focused places like this were on simple targets like "the front" or "the back door." Honestly, did they not think to check places like the roof? Or the kitchen? Or...

Anyway. He'd gotten in, and had been wandering and walking around the main floor for what had to be going on an hour now. No one had questioned a slender bunny in a classy gown wandering about; sometimes being mistaken for a girl could be a good thing. And in that time, he'd seen other attractions - like a race between greased-up men in bizarre costumes, and attractions like he'd expect at some down-port bar - but...nothing to really catch his interest. He really hoped he wasn't wasting his time...

Ugh.Okay. Maybe something from the bar would help himself patient long enough for something interesting to happen. He turned away from the view of the track. Even in the low heels he wore the bunny's hips swayed, the slashed skirt parting to show off smooth tan thigh as he crossed the casino floor. Maybe he was looking in the wrong place?
Edited by Wintermuse, Nov 5 2017, 03:25 PM.
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fridaynightpizza
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As the race was preparing to set off, he was approached by yet another stranger. The man engaged in some small talk before tapping Muerte's shoulder and walking off. The 'horses' got into their starting positions and Muerte's anticipation peaked when the stranger demanded his attention once again. A thin man wearing a thin moustache and a confident expression. The man claimed Muerte's bet had made an insulting remark towards him and offered up a costume as a way of claiming retribution. A blatant lie.

Muerte had been observing his horse since he'd gotten to his seat. He saw no such exchange of conversation take place between the two men. In fact, his horse didn't appear to have said anything at all. Clearly the man sought to take advantage of his physical superiority. He'd already been somewhat irritated that the man was distracting him from the event, and now the man had insulted his intelligence. To think he'd belittle himself over some playground insult anyhow. It'd be all too easy to dismantle his lie. There wouldn't be any fun in that.

"Is that so? Well, unfortunately I've no interest in racing. But maybe the two of us could play a different sort of game," Muerte leaned forward, locking eyes with the man before him. "Ask the fool if he'd be curious to discover what his intestinal tract looked like."

An eerie smirk fell across Muerte's lips. It wasn't the sort of entertainment he was expecting, but he did find joy in instilling fear in those around him. He made sure to drink in the expression of the pencil moustached man. To see it transition from bravado to terror would be a treat most scrumptious. He waited with bated breath for the stranger's reaction.
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Lejinoss Taibug
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Sitting next to that impressive and rather terrifying man who just sent him packing in a threatening way, Leji knew how precarious his situation could be if he were to insist. His malicious smile still on display, he gave a tap on the gigantic thigh that belonged to his masked fellow. It was a way for him to point out how confident he was even though he was scared to death knowing his life might as well end if the beast of a man decided so.

- A~~lright then  !

One could expect that he would flee as far a he could from the one he just insulted a few seconds ago – it would have been the wisest decision Taibug could make - but it was without counting the cunning aspect of his personnality. Somewhat offended by the rejection he just suffered, and willing to have the final say, he waited somewhere else for the race to end.
It was a sad show to contemplate. Him not being sadist at all couldn't consequently enjoy the view, therefore, he prefered to scan the audience surrounding him. It was somehow funny to see how serious seemed all these men watching such a stupid game. One of them didn't fit among that group of haughty and self-rightous characters.

- Is that a guy in a... in a bunny costume ?

Constrating with the other viewers, the said bunny didn't seem to feel awkward being dressed as he was, casually watching the show.

- Well... I guess these things happen more often than we think.

As if he didn't saw anything, already trying to forget what probably was one of the most surrealistic sight he ever put his eyes on, Leji moved forward. He had to. For now, the moustached thief had to focus on his first priority : getting back to a man whose only fault was to refuse to take part in his foolish scheme.

By being absolutely litteral to the masked man instructions, Leji actually went to the man dressed as a fool, acting as a messenger. However, he slightly twisted the message so that it could serve his own designs. Pointing Muerte with his finger as he did earlier, he innocently asked a simple question to the fool who just completed his race  :

- Hey, jester, got some history with this guy ?

First off, the buffon had to get rid of all that grease that was obstructing his eyes. Once he got a glimpse of the masked man, he instantly felt upset even though he had no reason to be. Muerte could do that effect to any ainnocent man without wanting to.

- N.. no. Why ?

Playing the good guy, Leji acted worried.

- Don't know.. He was repeating over and over « If that damn fool doesn't win the race, I'll be waiting for him in the parking lot ». He probably bet big money on you boy. If I were you...

He waved his hand in a friendly way towards the beast he was accusing of something he never did. His insincere smile, these malicious eyes, no one could have ever looked as phony as him even by forcing itself. While doing so, he added in a languid and shrewish tone:

- ….I'd call security.

Scared as was the fool, he didn't need Lejinoss's advice and was already way ahead of him, begging the nearest beefcakes working for the Kitty Cat he could find.
His deed achieved, Leji retreated from the scene, waiting for the outcome to enjoy the fruits of what he sowed. Looking a last time at the masked fellow, he muttered in wicked yet jovial way :

- To~~ld you you should have wore the suit...
Edited by Lejinoss Taibug, Nov 6 2017, 09:52 AM.
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Jacob regarded the casino floor as he stood at the bar, waiting for his drink to be mixed. He knew (well, okay, he knew that stories said) casinos kept all the important stuff away from the main floor, somewhere in the back of the maze of passages and rooms in the proverbial back. The problem was, those areas also tended to be locked away (which wasn't much of an issue) and guarded by very large men with absolutely no sense of humor (which was). But barring some sort of robot, even the hired help would be distracted by the floor show.

That meant that, for the time being, he'd stay here, enjoying the...questionable spectacle of watching a bunch of greased up men race around a track. Of course, there was also the thought that he might be chasing a red hare (he never really liked that phrase). That would really put a cramp in his evening, now wouldn't it? Sneaking his way into a place he honestly didn't want to go, for nothing! Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained...

"Here you are, miss," the barman said, passing the bunny his drink. Jacob thanked him with a smile, taking the glass and tipping the man before he made his way back toward the track viewing area. As he walked, he pondered the mystery of what was hiding in the casino. If popular media was to be believed (and, let's be honest, when was that ever a good idea?) then it was some hidden treasure held by the mafia. But the Kitty Kat was hardly York Shin City, now was it? That meant that this was probably not linked to the crime families, at least not as a place to stash secrets. Or maybe...

Lost in thought, the bunny returned to his earlier spot near the railing, sipping his drink. Regardless of what was hidden here (he hoped it wasn't just a bunch of money), he wouldn't be able to even begin searching until the race started.
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