A Fiscal Sinkhole.

Three hours go by and the ten dollars you had on you is soonrepresented by a number of blue chips in both Dirk and Scott's piles. You yawn and realize it's about time to hit the hay. Expecially if you want to be able to get up tomorrow to help Melody get over Keith.

"Well, you two have managed once again to methodically bankrupt my ass back to the poor house." You say.

"Well, they don't call me Smokin' Aces for nothin'." Scott said.

"They don't call you Smokin' Aces, period." Dirk replies.

"I think I'm going to retire for the night." You say, standing up. "I got to get some sleep."

"Sweet dreams Jack-man." Scott says. "Maybe you can dream about having your ten dollars back."

"I'll get you next time." You reply. "Night." They wave goodbye to you and leave their smokey cave to return to your room. The clean air feels good in your lungs and you hope you don't cough all night. You walk into your dark room and spot the slumbering form of Melody. You can't make out too many details in the dark, but you can tell she's curled into a ball like she is when she usually sleeps. You want to comfort her, but she wouldn't appreciate you waking her up.

You quietly strip out of your clothes. You sniff them and they smell like pot. You grimace and hope you don't smell quite as bad. You contemplate whether you want to take a shower before getting to bed.