PERPETUAL CASINO
by Darryl Hicks
Copyright 2010 Darryl Hicks
Perpetual Casino
Fred was a struggling eBook writer. His copyright fees and his blog fees exceeded his earnings from eBook sales.
In a River City casino hotel room, Fred was working on a new short story, which he planned to release for free to spur sales of his original eBook. The copyright fees for the eShort wouldn’t be free, however. The last time Fred released a free eShort, he sold more eBooks, but not enough eBooks to cover the copyright fee of the free eShort.
Fred’s account balance hadn’t yet reached the minimum threshold for royalty payments, thus Fred had earned exactly nothing during his writing career, despite selling some eBooks. Fred wondered how many free eShort copyright fees he’d have to pay to spur enough eBook sales to get his first royalty payment from the eBook company.
The finances of Fred’s writing career were on the other side of the balance sheet than Fred imagined. Of course what he imagined was loyalty payments flowing steadily in and how rich he’d be when that happened.
Fred’s free eShorts had interesting download stats. Most of the downloads occurred on week days, during daytime hours. Fred wondered if this meant his target audience was unemployed people.
#@#@#@#@
Flo was swimming in the outdoor pool of the Lucky Lady casino hotel. Her room was fully comped by the hotel, a gift from grandpa Dean, the casino’s assistant manager. It was 2 weeks after Flo chased her mom’s kidnappers to Yellowtown and a week after Flo herself was kidnapped. It was also 2 weeks after Flo killed a female Maddox Maimer named Swish (and Swish’s boyfriend), in the Yellowtown indoor shopping mall.
Flo was thinking how nice it was to be away from the violence of Yellowtown when her room window blew out from an explosion. Flo quickly ducked under water to avoid shards of glass and chunks of concrete.
Flo’s leather flight jacket floated to a soft landing on the surface of the pool. From her underwater hiding place, Flo could see that the jacket’s inner lining was gone.
#@#@#@#@
Instead of actually working on his short story, Fred was playing computerized chess at beginner level and gloating about his easy victories. Suddenly, Fred heard a loud noise in the next room and the intervening wall disintegrated.
#@#@#@#@
Fred excavated himself from a cocoon of plasterboard. Luckily, the blast was strongest over towards the windows. Fred was on the bed closest to the bathroom, so he escaped the full fury of the blast.
If Fred had been an ordinary tourist, he would’ve panicked and ran from his room. Fred was a writer, however. He knew that inspiration was a fleeting thing and it was best to write when inspiration struck. Fred minimized the chess game and started the word processor.
#@#@#@#@
Flo lugged the wet leather jacket out of the pool. She surveyed the pool area. Charred bits of her clothing were scattered all around the pool deck.
#@#@#@#@
When security opened Fred’s room, they found Fred typing on his word processor.
Fred’s screen said: ‘plot idea – exploding hotel room’.
#@#@#@#@
Dean was standing on the pool deck, looking up at a jagged hole that was formerly the sliding glass door and patio of room 201.
Flo walked up to Dean and said, “Hey grandpa.”
“There you are,” said Dean.
Then, into a radio Dean said, “The guest is down here on the pool deck with me.”
#@#@#@#@
Fred and casino manager Todd were talking in the hall.
Fred said, “I’m ok, really. Better than ok, actually. The blast cured my writer’s block. I just want to go somewhere and pound on my word processor. Right now, I’ve got like a thousand words in me, just bursting to get out.”
Todd said, “No problem. We’re comping you a suite.”
“Don’t need a suite,” said Fred. “Any place where I can use my portable computer would be fine.”
“In that case, you’re saving me some bucks, so here …”
Todd fished in his pocket, then pulled out 2 high denomination casino chips and a half ounce of red pot. Fred quickly grabbed the items from Todd’s hands.
“Thanks,” said Fred.
The chips disappeared into one of Fred’s pockets, but Fred kept the bag in his hands.
“That’s my personal stash, there,” said Todd.
Fred looked at the bag and said, “Hmmm, it’s like totally red.”
“The grower said it descended from Panama Red seeds from the 1970’s, but I think he was putting me on. Certainly gets you bombed, though.”
#@#@#@#@
Flo and Dean met Todd on the 2nd floor.
Todd said, “This is Fred, from 203.”
Dean said, “Hey Fred. Did you hear anything in 201 before the blast?”
“Yes,” said Fred, “but I doubt it will help. I heard somebody whistling an old folk song. You know, ‘hang down your head Tom Dooley, hang down your head and cry’ … ”
#@#@#@#@
Fireman Dan came out of 201. Dan said, “The fire is out now.”
“What happened?” asked Dean.
Dan said, “Somebody put a bomb on a comfy chair and piled the guest’s clothes on the chair. When the bomb went off, the patio door shattered and the guest’s clothes were blown out with the glass from the door.”
“And my wall fell down,” said Fred.
#@#@#@#@
Dan, Dean, Todd, and Flo went into the front part of room 201. There was no longer a back part of 201.
Dan led them into the bathroom. They crowded together and stared at the word painted in pink nail polish below the rim in the bathtub. The word was, ‘SWISH’.
Flo said, “That was the nickname of the woman I killed in Yellowtown 2 weeks ago.”
#@#@#@#@
Back out in the hall again, Flo called Jade.
Jade answered with, “Hey Flo. How’s my favorite kidnap victim?”
“Somebody bombed my room in River City.”
“No shit.”
“And, he wrote ‘SHISH’ on my bathtub in fingernail polish.”
“Let me guess,” said Jade. “The color was pink.”
“Yes, that was the weird thing. I had red and black, but no pink. The bomber brought his own fingernail polish.”
“Are you missing a pair of shoes?”
“I’m missing my entire wardrobe,” said Flo. “The bomb blew my stuff all over hell, down on the pool deck. The arson guy is confiscating everything as evidence. I’ve got my pool garb, that’s it.”
“Did the bomber enter through a small space?”
“Yes, he came through a vent.”
“Dooley,” said Jade.
“What?”
“Your bomber is a short skinny guy named Dooley. He’s a hard-core Maddox Maimer who loves explosives.”
“Is Dooley a real name or nickname?” asked Flo.
“Nickname.”
“Why do you call him Dooley?”
“You’d know if you ever meet him.”
#@#@#@#@
It was afterhours for the casino boutique. Misty opened the boutique especially for Flo.
Flo said, “Thanks for doing this, grandma.”
“No problem,” said Misty. “Just grab anything you want. My treat.”
“I just need underwear, jeans, and some tops.”
“You’ll need a dress for your father’s wedding.”
Flo groaned.
#@#@#@#@
Flo came out of the dressing room, wearing one of the dresses Misty selected.
“What do you think?” asked Flo.
“That dress is you,” said Misty.
Flo twirled in front of a
mirror.
“I guess it’s ok,” said Flo, finally.
“Better than that soggy leather thing,” said Misty, pointing at Flo’s flight jacket on the floor.
“The explosion blew it in the pool,” replied Flo. “I don’t know what to do with it. The leather’s going to be all nasty when it finally dries.”
“Leave it with me. I’ll have my tailor look at it.”
“It’s not even my jacket. Sheila loaned it to me. I feel guilty for ruining the thing.”
“It’s not ruined. My tailor can do wonders.”
“The lining was torn out by the blast. Can your tailor fix that?”
Misty picked up the flight jacket and examined the inside. Then, she held it open, showing it to Flo.
Misty said, “You’re wrong about the lining. The cuts are straight. An explosion would’ve left a jagged edge.”
Flo could see where the lining used to be. Straight edged remnants of the lining remained.
“I see,” said Flo. “That explains why I couldn’t find the turkey baster. Somebody took it before the explosion.”
“Sorry you lost Nana’s turkey baster. I know your mom felt bad after she lost it.”
“It’s ok, really. I inseminated 2 women in Yellowtown and let me tell you, I won’t be missing THAT part of baster ownership.”
#@#@#@#@
Flo went down to the seafood restaurant for a family dinner. Mike stood up and formerly introduced his bride to be.
“Flo, this is Mona,” said Mike.
“Hi,” said Flo.
Mona said, “Pleased to meet you Flo. That’s a nice dress.”
“Thanks Mona,” said Flo.
“Call me ‘mom’,” said Mona.
Flo sat down, looked at her little brother, and said, “Do you call her ‘mom’?”
Steve shrugged and said, “I have issues, but yes, sometimes I call Mona ‘mom’.”
Flo turned to Mike and said, “Grandma told me Mona is 24. She was only 10 when I was born.”
Mike said, “You were born on a spaceship and you incurred a year of time warp after your birth, so Mona was actually 9 when you were born.”
“Even better,” said Flo sarcastically.
#@#@#@#@
All through dinner, Flo visualized stabbing Mona with various pieces of silverware. During dessert, Flo was congratulating herself for refraining from acting on her stabbing fantasies.
Mona announced, “You guys are free to do guy stuff. Flo and I are taking a little walk on the boardwalk together, just us girls.”
Flo almost choked on her strawberry cheesecake.
#@#@#@#@
Flo and Mona talked about everything except the family situation. In spite of her misgivings, Flo was actually starting to like Mona.
They came to a sleazy bar, where women stripped for sleazy men. A short skinny man approached Mona and said, “Hey baby, what’s happenin’?”
“Just struttin’ my stuff,” said Mona.
“Well, strut your stuff in here,” said the man. “You’ll make big money here, guaranteed.”
As he talked, the man’s eyes drifted down Mona’s body.
“My face is up here,” said Mona.
“Just checkin’ out your feet, babe. They’re fabulous. And, pink toenail polish! My favorite!”
“You really like my feet?”
“Sure babe. Would you mind taking off your shoes for me?”
Mona took off her sandals and stood barefoot, holding the sandals in one hand.
The short skinny guy hung his head down and stared at Mona’s feet. He moaned. A tear dribbled down his cheek.
Flo had the sudden impulse to whistle the folk song Fred mentioned. She thought to herself, ‘Dooley!’
Coming out of her reverie, Flo said, “Don’t encourage this feet fetish creep. Come on mom.”
Flo grabbed Mona’s free hand and pulled the woman down the boardwalk, back towards their hotel.
#@#@#@#@
A ways past the sleazy bar, they approached a bus bench.
Mona said, “Wait! Wait! I want to put on my sandals.”
Mona sat on the bus bench, but instead of putting on her sandals, Mona said, “You called me ‘mom’.”
“What?” said Flo.
“After the ‘foot fetish creep’ part, you said ‘come on mom’.”
“He’s my bomber. I needed to get you out of there.”
“How do you know he’s your bomber?”
“I’ll tell you later. For now, just hurry up with your fucking sandals, mom.”
“Such language.”
“Mom!”
“Ok, ok, putting on my sandals here boss.”
#@#@#@#@
Near the hotel, Flo said, “I can’t believe you took off your shoes for a foot fetishist.”
“It was harmless,” said Mona.
“Well, try to stay fully clothed for a moment. I need to call somebody.”
#@#@#@#@
Jade answered with, “Hey Flo. What’s up?”
“I found Dooley.”
“That was fast.”
“He’s a shill for a sleazy River City strip joint,” said Flo.
“How did you find him?”
“He seduced mom’s feet.”
“I thought your mom was in Yellowtown.”
“She is. My parents got a quickie divorce. Now dad is marrying somebody else. My new mom took off her shoes for a short skinny guy. He hung down his head and cried.”
“Definitely Dooley,” said Jade.
#@#@#@#@
Flo woke to the phone in her hotel room. She answered with a sleepy, “Hello?”
Dean said, “It’s grandpa. Sorry I woke you, but we captured 3 Maddox Maimers lurking around the hotel. They say they’re your friends.”
Flo said, “The only Maimers I know are Jade and Lucy, but they’re in Yellowtown.”
“Well, Jade and Lucy are here now, with a guy named Randy.”
“Where’s ‘here’?”
“My office.”
“Where’s that?”
“Grab a bellhop at the front desk. He’ll take you here.”
#@#@#@#@
As per usual, the poorly ventilated casino office was engulfed in pot smoke. Todd, Dean, and Randy were passing 3 joints back and forth.
Flo said, “You each have a joint. Why are passing them?”
Todd exhaled and said, “They’re 3 different strains of pot.”
“Makes perfect sense,” replied Flo. “I bet you don’t even know which is which now.”
Todd waved a joint and said, “This is Randy’s purple pot.”
Randy said, “I’ve got Dean’s gold.”
Dean said, “I’ve got Todd’s red.”
Lucy shook her head and said, “Pot smokers …”
#@#@#@#@
Jade hugged Flo and said, “We’re pregnant!”
“Of course you are,” said Flo. “I told you, the turkey baster never fails to deliver. It’s sort of like the motto for the post office.”
#@#@#@#@
Lucy said, “We drove here in my car. We made Randy smoke his pot in the back seat, behind the plexiglas screen.”
“Great trip,” said Randy. “Killer restaurant in downtown Gilford.”
Todd said, “When I was young, that restaurant was the only civilization for miles around and ‘downtown’ was where the road forded Gil Creek.”
Jade said, “Now the road is a 4-lane, with a tall bridge over a tiny creek.”
“The creek isn’t so tiny when it rains,” said Todd.
“It rains here?” said Randy. “Did I maybe miss it when I was sleeping?”
The locals assured Randy that it would rain longer than he could possibly sleep.
#@#@#@#@
Writer Fred was at an all-night diner. The dregs of his ‘he-man breakfast’ were pushed off to the side. The dregs included his egg yokes, half a pancake, and a funky tasting sausage.
Fred’s short story stalled at 22
00 words. He was on his portable computer, waiting for inspiration, meanwhile staring at the end of what he had written so far.
‘I need some action here,’ Fred thought to himself.
Still no inspiration. Fred lit up some red and proceeded to get baked.
Waitress Alice came over and said, “You can’t smoke your weed in here.”
Fred said, “It’s not mine, some guy gave it to me.”
“Relax,” said Alice, “it’s legal in River City. We just have a ‘no smoking’ policy, here in the diner.”
Fred scanned the diner. The only other patron was a drunk, sleeping in a corner booth.
“Sorry I’m offending your other customers,” he said.
Alice laughed and said, “Well actually our night shift policy is ‘no smoking weed without sharing with the staff’.”
#@#@#@#@
Fred, Alice, and the cook were having a grand time smoking Todd’s red weed. Fred’s booth was engulfed in weed smoke.
Suddenly, there was an explosion. Across the street, the windows of a building blew out. Smoke poured out of the window frames. The front door opened and smoke poured out of that, too. Out of the smoke ran 2 men, a big burly guy carrying 2 heavy sacks and a short skinny guy carrying a pair of high heel pumps.
#@#@#@#@
In the perpetually smoky casino office, Lucy said, “We need to find where Dooley keeps his trophies.”
“You mean like bowling trophies?” said Dean.
“Not exactly,” said Lucy.
“Dooley steals a pair of woman’s shoes from every crime scene,” said Jade.
#@#@#@#@
Todd answered his desk phone with, “Lucky Lady Casino, Todd speaking.”
Fireman Dan said, “Your bomber just struck again.”
“Is a pair of woman’s shoes missing?” asked Todd.
“Funny you should ask that,” said Dan. “I’ve got 3 stoned witnesses who swear they saw a short skinny guy running away carrying a pair of high heel pumps.”
#@#@#@#@
Dean called Jeff, in Philville. As chief financial officer (CFO) for the family business, Jeff worked closely with father Phil, the first and only Mayor of Philville. The family business was bribery and Jeff was especially skilled in fattening the family slush fund, after years of working as the bag man for his father.