Aye yes, the realism is a bit off, I have but limited casino experience so I had to make it up, and as for the hotel part, it was sort of like the bell boy was passing by, still a bit unrealistic, but eh, these things happen. Oh and as far as the dude in the first paragraph that put his hand on his shoulder, it was supposed to be Jack’s point of view on the guy that attempted to stop him, it is sort of confusing though, and I’ve contemplated chainging it since I wrote the story.
Short Story / Lady Luck Is a Slut (re-write)
Jack Klinger stood over the Black Jack table, sweat dripping off of his forehead, his brown hair was a mop that sat upon his wrinkled face, soaking up the drops of perspiration as he awaited his fate.
Jack was a man of the world, at least that’s what how he saw himself. In reality Jack was an ass hole, a guy who got lucky on the lottery and dumped his friends and his family for the “privileged life” as he liked to call it. His new hobby was Black Jack, there was less competition now that all those other guys were off playing Texas hold ’em, plus Jack figured he would have some sort of karmic advantage, his name being Jack and the game being Black Jack. He even had the passing wish that he was black, just so he could use the joke. Not one to be frugal Jack had already shit away a large amount of his lottery winnings, a house, a new TV, new car, “all those things a rich man deserves“ as Jack would say. Well now Jack was wishing he hadn’t made this trip to Vegas. He’d been on a run of bad luck the entire time, his flight was late arriving, they lost half of his luggage somewhere along the way, and his hotel was over booked, he would have to stay somewhere else. They gave him a refund and Jack stormed off, he hailed a cab, riding around till he found this wonderful hotel casino. He got a room, ate a lunch buffet and went to the casino. He screwed around with slots early in the day, the 50 dollar variety, but he just got frustrated and started kicking the machines, he was told to stop or he’d be removed from the property, so Jack went and got a drink from the bar to relax.
The table’s green felt top laughed in Jack’s face, the dealer’s stare burned two holes through his head. The dealer had a jack showing, while Jack had a nine and a five. jack hit on it, and got another five, he stuck on nineteen. Now he stood waiting, a little drunk, all of his lottery earnings on this hand, well, at least what was left of them. It was something like a hundred fifty grand, Jack wasn’t too sure anymore, he just dropped a tile and a couple of chips onto the table. Now as the dealer was about to turn over her card, Jack finally seemed to get it, a million thoughts shot through his mind, this is the rest of his money, HIS money, the money he “deserved“. The card seemed to hold the weight of the world as the dealer turned it over, Jack heard the card slice through the air as it was turned, he felt the ground shake as it was planted down on the table. There it was looking up at him ,an eight looking like a set of vertical eyeballs. Jack raised his hands in triumph, a yell of joy, Jack wasn’t going to be broke, he could go back to his room and leave this screaming atmosphere, the lights, the slots ringing in his ears, the claustrophobia inducing crowd. He could go and be alone in his room.
Jack quickly grabbed his tiles and his few chips and dashed off towards his room. Half way through the lobby Jack was grabbed by a large gorilla looking man, he was sort of short, wide, and hairy. His arms the size of tree trunks, he grabbed Jacks shoulders and held him in place.
“Sir I’m going to have to ask you to give us the stolen tiles and chips.” his voice was surprisingly eloquent considering his ape like stature.
“What are you talking about I won these! I’m going to my room, if you don’t let me go I’ll get security.” Jack was getting irate, his voice rising as he talked.
The ape man replied “Sir I am security.” then he smiled “So could you just give us the chips, an cooperate? It will make things much easier.”
“Fuck you” Jack said as he swung one of his fat fists into the ape man’s stomach. Startled the ape man let go of Jack’s shoulders and jacked stomped on his foot and ran. The tiles and chips rattling in his pockets, need to cash out quick, he thought. As he got to the cash out counter a man came up to him and seized him by the wrist. He pulled jack to the ground and held him there, talking into one of those cufflink walkie-talkies for back up.
“I won!” jack screamed incredulously “What is this is shit?! I fucking won fair and square! I’m an upstanding citizen, I have money, I know people!! You’ll be fired for this you fucking piece of shit!!!”
Jack struggled under the weight of the man on top of him, bucking and working his hips trying to shake the man off of him. Wiggling his arms Jack gets one free and starts flailing it at the man on top of him. He connects and gets his other hand free, now he has both hands to the floor trying to get up with this man on top of him, like something you would see one of those strong men do, push ups with someone sitting on their back. Too bad for Jack he isn’t a strong man, he doesn’t even do minor work outs, so all this grunting, this effort to get up off of the ground gets him nowhere. He panics and starts punching air, the ground, the man on top of him. Anything to not feel trapped. All this time screaming and ranting “Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit. Trying to steal my fucking money. YOU WHORE. I WON!!! ME!! THE LUCKY ONE!!!”
Back up arrives and they grab Jack by the arms, trying to restrain him. He punches one of them in the face, another in the leg, before they finally keep him down. The police are called in. A single cop car rolls up to the front of the hotel casino, the cop walks in and heads to the cash out counter and sees three guards all sitting on top of Jack, one for each arm and then one on his back. The cop sort of chuckles and says, “this one giving you a problem boys?” The cop walks over and attempts to cuff Jack, the casino guards hold his arms and force them into position but Jack is fighting them the whole way, he breaks a hand loose and punches the officer in the face. The policeman leverages up and cranks on Jacks arm, Jack screams as one of his hands goes in the cuff. He forces Jack’s face into the soft carpet of the casino lobby, pushing until the carpets is no longer soft, the concrete underneath crushing Jack’s nose. Finally his other arm is restrained, Jack is screaming and cursing the officer and his family, his god, his pets, his car, his money, his job, everything the cop could ever possibly care about. They stand Jack up.
“Sir, do you realize what you did?” the cop speaks calmly.
Jack spits in the policeman’s face and tells him that he can go fuck himself and the rest of swine companions. The cop gives Jack a jab to the gut and drags him out to his car. In the car Jack is head butting the cage that separates the drivers and the back seat, he’s kicking at the windows, screaming at the officer.
“You’re a fucking worthless piece of shit. I can’t believe my tax dollars pay for you, you incompetent piece of shit. There are real crimes going on all over and you fucking have to waste your fucking time, out fucking money, stealing the money I just won at a casino!! Your going to get sued for this, you fucking pig!!”
In reality the cop was just doing his job, no one was trying to steal Jack Klinger’s money, there was no conspiracy here. Jack’s tiny, insecure mind had snapped, the only thing important to him was his money, HIS winnings, HIM. A sad fate is a man who only cares for money he never really had.
At his hearing Jack Klinger was unruly, he pushed tables with his hips and screamed obscenities at everyone in the courtroom including his own lawyer, calling him “A money hungry slut” and stating “You stole my fucking money, and I’d kill you if my hands weren’t cuffed”
Jack was then removed from the court and then locked in a single cell outside the court room. The entire time Jack was screaming about money and luck and how they took it all away. The security tapes show the truth. Everything that Jack saw during that Black Jack game was an illusion, the final card was an Ace, that’s when Jack went bat shit insane. He screamed in the dealers face and grabbed at the table for whatever he could. He ran through the casino, knocking people over, slamming them into slot machines, launching them onto poker tables. Jack’s lawyer pleaded insanity, saying “it’s should be rather obvious that my client is under extreme emotional stress. The whole incident has left him with a changed state of mind.”
So after psychoanalysis, it was found that Jack had indeed gone insane. Now you can find Jack sitting in a drug induced stupor in his soft walled room. His yelling and raving about money has now stopped, they have a regimen of pills to keep him calm. Now Jack mumbles underneath his breath, swearing that it was all a conspiracy, the cops have his money, the judge, the body guards they stole it from him. Jack sold his friends and family, he was living the “privileged life”. When he became bored with his money, gambled, first he gambles away his money and the he gambled away his mind. The only thing you’ll find filling the space between his ears now is a laughing lady luck, her stare burns two holes through Jack’s head, and she turns up twenty-one every time and Jack is always on the losing end.
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brunswick reviewed Version 2 -
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AnneBeth22 reviewed Version 1 -
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LeahD reviewed Version 1 -
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Gee, it’s a good concept, but I think there might still be a better way to handle it. Maybe by switching back and forth between Jack’s perception and reality, instead of saving all the reality up for the end. Had you thought of trying it that way? It’s short enough, with the central idea well enough established, that you should be able to play around with structure quite a bit. Just a suggestion.
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kryopsis reviewed Version 1 -
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I don’t think a bellboy would come to evict a guy from a hotel room. It would probably be a manager and they would likely bring security with them upfront. Also, just pointing out realism issues, the guy in fact would never have gotten off the casino floor and made it back to his room in the first place. Trust me, those guys will pop out from around corners and mug you in a casino. Oh, and at anything over 100k, casinos use tiles, not chips.
As far as the basic story goes, i liked it. It wasn’t too tough a read. I think the premise has promise, madness has virtually unlimited possibilities in dramatic writing. I didn’t get the guy putting his hand on the shoulder in the first paragraph.
Keep writing. Don’t worry, all this stuff is pretty minor compared to the nuts and bolts of creating good content. The crispness and details will come with experance.
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