Meanwhile... back at the Casino

Lone Starr happily signed his signature and applied his personal seal to another receipt, but conspicuously did not tip the waiter. He was in a bad mood, as the prostitute had refused to budge from her price, and King Roland had specifically said that he could not order any women to sleep with him directly. It was quite maddening, having all this power in the Schwartz, and not being able to just once have a little fun on the down side. What made it even worse was that the royal accountant Murray had a standard Prince contract/agreement with his wife to flag any purchase over three hundred spacebucks for her later approval. It was an old Druish custom, and explaining that "Personal Massage" was a medical necessity was not something he wanted to go through again. Good thing he'd had Barf to pretend to be a doctor, although where the guy got ahold of a sacred doctor coat was one of those mysteries that Princes didn't have to worry about.

"You smell something burning?" Lone Starr asked the croupier, who merely shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, and passed over the dice once again.

The loud sound of a fire brigade outside splashing water onto the casino was a quite enjoyable floor show, and Lone Starr enjoyed another sip of his complimentary drink as he watched the wonderful simulation of a peasant's house burning through the large screens that clearly showed what the outside of the place looked like, without any of the necessity of those silly windows which let in viruses, gamma radiation and worst of all, Poor people who might ask for you to actually act like a prince for a minute or two. Nothing was less fun than Glad handing a bunch of filthy slime who couldn't even bother to hire a proper valet to do their cleaning.

He made a mental note to remind Barf to reshine his shoes. The last time he'd seen them, they were absolutely frightful, and while the Grand Duchess of Benstein hadn't said anything publicly, Vespa had given him an earful about it. A LONG earful. Seems that a paparazzi caught a picture of the Duchess' face frowning, and ten seconds later there was nothing but news about the upcoming spat between the princess and the duchess. One of the things Lone Starr really appreciated about this casino was the fact that they didn't let any cameras in. There already were cameras everywhere, and there was a tacit agreement with the owner that he would never mention anything that ever went on in here. The He in that statement had been deliberately ambiguous and delivered with a finger laid across the nose.

"Excuse me... Monsieur Starr? There is a call for you." A short man at his elbow spoke, holding a large golden phone on a silver platter.

"Prince stuff..." Lone Starr smiled at the onlooking gaggle of onlookers. He made a mental note of which ones had already mentioned they didn't take cash, and which ones were still on his "To do" list. "Yello..." He spoke casually into the phone, before his face took on a more earnest expression. "What is it Barf, I'm kinda... in the middle of something. Well... had a slight... Schwartz malfunction, but I'm fine. We're all fine here, now.... how are you?"

He listened intently on the other end of the line for a moment before groaning loudly, and looking over at one of the more attractive women.

"Well, yeah... that's really great that she's all tied up at the moment, but so am I, Barf!" He tossed the dice one handed and pulled his fist down rapidly, pumping it twice. "YES! Now THAT'S what I'm talking about. Huh? Oh, no I can't do that right now Barf, I'm on a winning streak. You... I don't know... you take her out for a ride or something. She was complaining about wanting to go for a mani pedi for a while anyway. No... NO I'm not going to sell your hydrant! Well what makes you think I'm lying? Exactly... All you have are your groundless suspicions, Barf, now just trust me for once and let me get back to my work. I think we're going to have to have a talk about my shoes when I see you again. My SHOES, Barf. You know very well what you did, Barf, and we'll talk about it when I see you again."

Lone Starr smiled a bit more broadly and waved his ring at a conspicuously young woman who was sent over by the management. All the perks of being a Prince, after all.

"Well, you think about that, Barf. You know you're darned lucky to have a job? Most Mawgs are on the street these days, you know? Well it's a good thing you do know that, and you just remember it when you work on my shoes next time, Barf. Speaking of which, is my suit.... oh you have to go? Well, don't let me keep you. That's right... goodbye...shithead" He slapped the phone down on the tray right before he spoke the final word and tipped the short man, who inclined his hat happily in response and scurried off.

"Now, where was I?" Lone Starr smiled at the young woman, and noted that there was a nice little nametag on her. "Gratis. That's a nice name. I love that name."