Ok now seriously, Michael this time.

Michael

It’s dark. Why is it dark? Open your eyes.

Michael opened his eyes slowly.

Still dark.

He realized that, contrary to his expectations, he was lying facedown on the ground. In sand? He pushed himself up to his feet. He wiped the sand from his face and shook out his salt-and-pepper hair. He took off his suit coat and tie and shook those out too, but getting it out of the rest of his clothes would have to wait.

“What. The. Fuck.” Mike stammered, his fogged brain struggling to articulate any more than that. The darkness gave no reply. “What the fuck?!” Same result.

Michael stood in the sand on the side of a deserted two-lane blacktop crossing a vast, empty desert, illuminated only by the full moon above. The road ran through without a curve as far as he could see in either direction, off to what appeared to be distant mountains at both horizons. The only man-made thing in view was a garish monstrosity rising from the desert like a blister and nearly blinding him with an explosion of lights. Out in front, an enormous sign high above the roadway blazed with the letters “HAREM HOTEL.” Alongside it was a six-story neon outline of a bikini-clad woman hanging from the supports, her leg kicking back and forth in a parody of a pole dance. Her “winks” were visible for miles in the surrounding empty desert, and the whole thing illuminated the sand in alternating blues and greens.

The building behind it appeared to stretch for a city block and was decorated in a faux-Middle Eastern style, complete with exaggerated onion domes and horseshoe arches straight out of Arabian Nights. Mike must have been a mile away or more, but the CASINO sign over the entrance was large enough for Mike to read easily. A substantial hotel tower emerged from the back.

How the hell did I get here? Work backwards. He was out at Rosa’s Island after work, he remembered. The game was on. Middle of… the third maybe? I must have had too many and tried to drive home? No. That can’t be right, it would take hours to get to Nevada and my car would be here somewhere.

He checked his pockets. Empty. No phone, keys, or wallet. Thinking was unusually difficult, this felt different than a typical Friday evening drunk.

I must have been fucking roofied or something. Michael reached back and checked his kidneys. Well at least they didn’t steal those. The way my luck's been going, it would have been on brand to end up in an urban legend.

Mike rose to his feet. Well, whoever mugged me seems to have lost interest. Did those assholes have to drag me all the way out here? If a mugger was going to try something, **** would have been the way. Michael had a stocky build, retaining some of the muscle mass from his Air **** days. Though, the decades since had added more padding then he liked.

With no phone, he’d have to head to that hotel and figure it out there. It looked quiet on the outside, no traffic coming or going, no employees working the exterior. The place made the hair on Mike’s neck stand up, but where else was there to go?

He stepped up onto the road and followed the light.

—-

The camera appears at eye level, tracking its way across a busy casino floor. The games are packed, and everyone seems to be winning. A woman shoots at a craps table then jumps into the arms of the man at her side. The camera continues, showing a group jumping and cheering as they watch a horse race play out on a large television screen.

Finally, the camera settles on Ruby, seated at a poker table. It drinks in her tall, curvaceous body, poured into black off-the-shoulder dress with matching gloves. She turns to the camera, and her pale skin nearly matches her pearly white megawatt smile.

“Welcome once again to the Harem Hotel! Where ladies push in all their chips for the chance to win the affections of their future Master!” Her stage voice is gentle and soothing. She lays down her cards and walks away, ignoring the croupier pushing a stack of chips to where she was sitting. She stops next to Al, who is leaning against a bank of slot machines.

“I’m Ruby.”

“And I’m Alphonse.” He holds up his hand as if whispering a secret, “But I’m sure you remember me as Big Al. We’ve made some big changes this season that you’re just gonna love.” He and Ruby set off together and he pulls the handle of each slot machine on his way. The camera catches them paying out one after the other, spewing coins to the floor. The patrons rush in from out of frame, diving onto the pile and grappling with each other to collect them.

The pair reach the exterior double doors of the casino, then pause with their hands on the crash bars. “Let’s meet our lucky guy!” They say in unison as they push the doors open, surprising Michael as he approaches from the other side.