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=   F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K.   =
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                             Red Casino
                             ----------

     <Knock> <Knock>

     "What's your name?" Yelled a deep damanding voice through
the small hole in the large metalic door.
     "Mr. O." Replied the tall skanky man with dark brown hair. 
His cheep ugly three piece suit almost made you want to shoot 
him right there.
     "What's the password O?" Questioned the man behind the 
door useing a more relaxed voice this time.
     "Orange Sidewalk." Convincingly replied the sickining man.
     "Alright, Come on in." Grunted the death butler. As the 
door opens you can see a glimpse of the man, he reminds you a 
lot of Mike Tyson. You quickly make a mental note that what 
you are about to do had better work or you will probably be 
dead within the next two minutes.
     <Nock> <Nock> <Nock>
     "What's your name?" He yelled, almost sounding annoyed.
     "Mr. T." You say in a calm, almost chilling voice.
     "Well what's the password T?" He asks, trying to play a 
tough guy.
     "Orange Sidewalk." As the words leave your mouth you can 
hear the door man shiver from your voice.
     "You may enter." This time he almost sounded polite. You 
turn around before entering. Good, no more visitors.

     As you exit the hallway, the Casino opens up for you. 
Nothing catches your eye as being unique. Just the usual sight 
one would see in a private Casino. Poker, 21, Roulette, and 
Craps. Two tables for each game. Most of the people are hung 
around the second craps table. Someone must be winning it big. 
You see the same ammount of whores you would normaly see in a 
place like this. About two for every lucky winner. Only a 
handful of women are actually gambling. Their husbands must 
have died recently. 
     You walk over towards the first Roulette table. There are 
about ten people hanging around it already. Of those ten, 
three women are hanging around three of the guys. You quickly 
look down at the table. Two of those men have what appears to 
be $500,000 total bet on black. The other has about $50,000 on 
00 and about $140,000 on red. The other two men at the table 
are not even worth mentioning. 
     "New bet," you quitely say as you take the last seat at 
the end of the table. You say it just loud enough for everyone 
at the table to hear what you have said, but not loud enough 
for anyone to have taken a notice to you. You pull out 
$10,000, the minimum bet, and place it on red. It is such a 
small ammount that no one pays any attention to you. 
     "All bets final." Says the man behind the wheel as if he 
were hosting an auction. He spins the roulette wheel like a 
professional. He then tosses a silver metal ball on the 
outside of the wheel, it rolls in the oposite direction that
the wheel is turning. The ball falls onto the spaces, and 
after hopping around for ten seconds it drops on a red space. 
The number of the square is completely irrelavent.
     After Mr. Auctionier announces the space he gives you and 
the man sitting next to you, wearing a white suit and some 
blond slut, your winnings. You notice her sad attempt at a 
sexy smile. The two men who had bet on black are now swearing 
and yelling. As the two men walk away, you hear one crying as 
he exists the Casino. That is a very lucky man. The other one 
walks over to one of the Poker tables. On his way over he 
turns to the woman that was strung out on him a second ago and 
mentions something about being better at poker. The other 
women transfers herself to the second Craps table you noticed 
on your way in. 
     A new man in a bizzare green outfit replaces the seat of 
Mr. Super-Poker-Man and says "New bet," in the best used car 
sales man impression he could conjure. You don't take notice 
to what he betted on, it doesn't matter to you at all. You 
collect all your money from the table.
     "Are you through sir?" the spinner says in the most 
whiny suck-up voice you have heard all day. You are going to 
enjoy this.
     "No. I will be finished when there are no more black 
spaces on the wheel," you reply to him, giving him a cold 
glare. He returns the look with a face of complete confusion. 
His face then disolves into utter happiness when you remove a 
five inch stack of $100 bills from the inside of your trench 
coat and toss them onto red. The bills spread across the 
betting space completely covering it. You feel a stare. 
Looking over your right shoulder you notice the bimbo grinning 
at you. She imediately turns her head away completely losing 
her smile after you produce the coldest stare you posibly can.
     "Very well indeed. All bets final," he says in his most 
chearful voice yet. 
     Once again he tosses the ball onto the wheel. Bouncing 
past reds, black, and even green the ball reflects a ceiling 
light into your eye. The wheel slows down and you can already 
see where it is going to land. Everything is going exactly how 
you planned it. Confirming your wishes the silver ball 
finally rests on a black space. You can hear sighs from 
everyone at the table except for that bitch standing next to 
you, she just seems to snicker at you, she will be second. 
     "I am sorry sir. Are you going to continue in the game?" 
He questions you as though you have money flying out your 
britches.
     "Yes. I have one final bet I would like to make." As your 
words fall silent and the seven bodies around you grow quiet 
and still, they await to see the next ammount of money you 
will pull from your coat. Reaching in you feel the coldness of 
what you were looking for. You pull out a silver and bronze 
object no bigger than the silver ball that was just spinning 
around the roulette wheel. You take a look at your watch.
     "Red!" you shout as you toss it into the air so that it 
will land on the wheel. As everyone is watching the bullet, 
tryin to determine what it is, no one notices you pull out 
your two black 9mms. You put the first one just far enough 
away from the sluts head so that she won't know it is there. 
The second one you point directly at Mr. Auctionieer. As the 
bullet lands on the wheel, you see it on red.
     "I win." You calmly say as you fire one of the guns at 
the annoying bastard behind the wheel. Before his body starts 
falling onto the wheel you fire the other gun so that the 
whores head explodes into a red flaming mess. You then shoot 
the next man in line, he would have had the unfortunate 
opportunity of having to sleep with that cunt you just blew 
away. You point the other gun towards the entrance expecting 
the guard to have responded to the shootings by now. He 
doesn't get more than two steeps before blood fills his eyes 
from the newly formed hole in his forehead. 
     After that it doesn't matter who is next. You just start 
plugging away. Not one bullet is wasted. Everytime you pull 
the trigger on your nine someone dies. You only have to reload 
a couple times, which doesn't matter anyways because no one 
even knows where you are even if they wanted to attack you. 
There was just too much chaos going on, and you are loving 
every minute of it, until everyone is apparently dead.
     You take another look down at your watch and notice that 
only five minues have passed. Grabbing your money off the table
you notice that the blood of the roulette spinner has filled 
all the spaces on the wheel. 
     "They are all red now, and I am finished," you laugh to 
yourself. 
     On your way out you notice that Mr. O, the man who 
entered right before you, is crying in a corner of the Casino. 
You look around for anyone else, but see no one left alive. 
Although you would love to splatter blood all over his ugly 
face you remember the promise you made to yourself. He looks 
up at you.
     "Please...... Don't shoot me!!" He cries to you.
     "I won't," are your final words as you continue your 
pursuit to the exit of the Casino. As you pass him by you take 
a white card out of your coat and toss it on the ground in 
front of him. Making your way outside you go to your black 
Honda just down the street. Before entering you take out the 
fake money in your coat and throw it around the street, 
screaming the most evil laugh you have ever been able to 
create. 

     Back at the Casino Mr. O finally gets enough courage to 
look down at the white card you had tossed in front of him. 
Picking the card up in his shaking hand he makes out the words 
"Mr. Tricko"


Rage-303.tr

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