Story #10

Admin Join date : 2020-04-07

TH_ H_IST

The Luxor Casino. A hollow pyramid with all the Egyptian themes an American hotel resort can offer, adorned with the obnoxious signs advertising Carrot Top and the Titanic experience, while maintain the gaudy tact of an enlarged Cheesecake Factory. Each footstep echos in the chamber. The wave of sound rolls over high pitched dings and jackpot dreams. Jackie Burkhart’s kitty heels clop as she crosses the main lobby area, trailing behind the sweetest little backstabber in the game.
“Does everything you do in Vegas have to be a heist?” Jackie calls forward to Michael B Jordan, who’s steps have progressively quickened, pulling along a small suitcase clicking in rhythm.
“It’s not a heist, I keep telling you that.” He turns to her briefly before coming to a stop at the escalator. Too many families ascend with the two for them to proceed any quicker than before. He looks frantic. Exhausted, even.
“You’ve been watching Ocean’s 11 all week, so I find that hard to believe,” Jackie retorts.
“Pre-jury provides you with five DVDs and you bet your ass its only the Ocean’s series and that god awful Unicorn movie,” Michael scoffed, tapping his feet. The family before them hold giant pyramid sip cups, fully loaded with colorful slush. Behind them, an elderly couple steps on the stairs. “Just because I like to watch Brad Pitt eat to his heart’s content because I’m on a diet, doesn’t mean we are about to run some complex plot to take down this casino—” a child with the family in front of them sneezes into their hand, then places it back onto the guard rail securely. Michael lifts his hands from the rail in disgust. “—Kid-friendly casino, no less. Besides, if I were gonna do that, it would be the Excalibur. Fuck King Arthur, fuck their Medieval Times knock-off jamboree, and fuck their piss-stained hotel rooms.”
Each fuck resounded louder and louder. The kids know. The parents know. The elderly couple know. Jackie turns to the older folk and mimics an apology, then turns back to Michael. “Still a kid-friendly casino.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
They shuffle off of the escalator and turn to a large foodcourt with all the hits: Johnny Rocket’s. Nathan’s Famous. Some other generic, less-good pizza spots. It’s really the tip-top foodie experience any Las Vegas tourist can ask for, at just twice the regular price. The family before them seems to forget the profanity epidemic and instead remember their original goal. The elderly couple, now exiting the escalator, are also pretty jazzed to be able to sit and enjoy a meal.
But, Jackie and Michael aren’t here to enjoy a meal. At least, Michael knows that.
The two pass over carpeting onto tile. Michael’s pace quickens once again, which creates a flaw: the suitcase he pulls is off-kilter. It wibbles, it wobbles, and it falls down. The loose zipper seems to snap and several wads of BBQ$ fall from the case. Jackie’s eyes widen.
“Michael Kelso.”
Michael kneels down and begins putting it back into the case and securing the zipper. “It’s B Jordan. I thought you knew me.”
“Force of habit. Where did you get all of this money?” He’s already begun walking away, as if he were ignoring the situation entirely. He narrows in on the Johnny Rockets burger joint.
“Things got wild. Beast Boy convinced me to put all my BBQ$ down on GameStop and AMC in the markets. And things are about to get wilder and everything tripled. Ran to the bank and pulled it all out. Now, follow my lead.” He pushes past a few hungry tourists, towards the large, French swing doors labeled for employees. He moves with confidence. Maybe a slight lack of swagger.
“Michael, we can’t go back here—”
“Jackie. Trust me.”
“Well, the last time I trusted you someone got the boot.”
They pass the kitchen prep area, with the metal shelving holding aged fries and salad options ready to go for the next unsuspecting customer. The kitchen griddles and friers only have a toaster or two for company, leaking grease and questionably burnt lumps. A few workers turn to see the approach, but immediately turn back to their work. This is normal. Why is this normal?
Then, before them, a red velvet door. Out front stands a very domineering, though mysterious man. A man Jackie immediately recognizes as Cent - the host with a name, but never an appearance. He looks Michael up and down once the two stand before him.
“What’s the password?” Cent asks.
“Come on, man. I was here yesterday,” Michael pleads.
“What’s. The. Password.”
Michael sighs and looks to Jackie. “Remember this,” he says. Jackie nods. Things have gotten a little more serious; she knows when to argue and when to play along. Michael turns to Cent. “Neda was robbed.”
Cent pauses for a moment.
“I know that’s it, Cent,” Michael’s words are blatant. Jackie imagines he’s playing with fire.
With another pause, Cent breaks into a gentle chuckle. “Alright, tough guy. May the odds be in your favor.” He pushes the red velvet door back into an almost pitch-black hallway. Michael rolls past without saying a word. Jackie slowly follows behind. As she passes Cent, he remarked: “And good luck to you, miss.”
“Thank you.”
Jackie and Michael approach the darkness. Each step brings them closer to the smell of tobacco and smooth jazz music. The walls, once dark, now appear with beautiful portraits of average hotel room landscapes and floral scenes. The saxophone is intoxicating, but Jackie has another thing on her mind.
“What is this place, Michael?”
“This is Carrot Top’s personal penthouse suite,” Michael muttered, as if that were public information.
“Wouldn’t the penthouse be up top?”
“We don’t really question it. But he lets them use this space when he’s off performing.” The light at the end of the hallway glows brightly with each proceeding step, blinding Jackie’s view of what’s inside. Just before, Michael stops. “Don’t be weird. This is a secret and if it gets out, well… You might be the next nominee.”
“—Nominee? What are you getting me into? Only Arisa could—”
They step inside and Jackie’s eyes settle. It’s an immaculate suite; a personal bar to the side with every top end liquor imaginable. Behind the counter stands DW, wiping down glasses and looking oh-so-fabulous, as a child tending bar. The music emits from a real life brass instrumentalist, standing not too far off from DW. It’s Billie Eillish, musician extraordinaire, who has just eked by age-wise to enter and entertain. To her side, a Jacuzzi hot tub, settled in the corner for anyone to use. And in the center of the room, a green felt card table. A normal table would read markings for traditional games, like blackjack or poker, but this table remained blank save for one legal-sized piece of paper.
A crowd stands around the table. Arisa Cox, the woman of great power, turns to the two as they enter.
“Welcome, Jackie. And, hello again Michael.”
It was at this moment that Jackie realized there was something much bigger than the Big Brother Quarantine game occurring in this room. Yet, no one else turns.
“You’re just in time to see how Hottie fares.” She turns back to the table. Jackie’s focus goes to the crowd, and now spots Hottie next to Arisa.
Hottie stands up. “I’ve got it,” she shouts. “Kindness is being someone who makes anybody feel like a somebody.”
A mysterious voice responds. “No.”
“What?” Hottie’s anger booms. “Are you kidding me? Fuck this game.” She immediately tries to lift the incredibly heavy table to flip. Nothing happens, of course.
“Better luck next time,” Arisa coos.
“Better luck my ass.” Hottie spins the chair as she exits the table, pushing past Jackie and Michael to leave via the hallway they’d just entered.
“What just happened?” Jackie asks, just as Michael takes an empty seat at the end of the table.
“This seat is open. Why don’t you come and find out?” Arisa beckons Jackie to the seat Hottie has just vacated. Jackie hesitates and sits. She looks up to the dealer, previously shrouded in darkness, now lit by a single overhead. It’s Kelly Kapoor.
“Hello Jackie. Welcome to the game. You should know how to play, but I’ll give you a run down.” Kelly pulls out a white piece of paper. It has several blank lines on it. To the side, an inverted L. “It’s everyone’s favorite childhood game, made exciting.”
Jackie calculates the paper and new information. “Wait, is this… hangman?”
“Yes, ma’am. And you’re playing with the best of the best.” Kelly waves her hand, presenting the players at the table. “You’ve got Ms. Cox, of course. And Michael. He’s a bit new, but he’s gotten a few good dollars out of this.”
She turns to the rest. “You’ve got Ms. I See Dead People herself,” she points to Theodora Crain, whose traditional smile and grace is no where to be seen in the high stakes environment.
Theodora states, “using me doesn’t give you brownie points, even if I’m the host.”
Kelly continues, “Poddy.” Jackie sees that Rob Cesternino sits next to Theodora.
Without prompt, he mentioned, “how do you think I can run the podcast? Good samaritans and a Patreon? Give me a break.”
“And finally,” Kelly continues. “We have the Banker.”
Saoirse Ronan waves to Jackie. She may be the only person here resembling their true selves. “I don’t gamble. I just count the money and keep order.”
“The game goes as so. You place a bet. Then you pick a name from DW at the bar. I will then provide you with a quote by this name, and you need to solve the simple missing-letters riddle.”
She continues, “each player in the field will provide you with a letter. I wouldn’t rely too much on that though. These folks are ruthless.”
“It’s true,” Rob retorts. “Kelly single-handedly gave me enough money to nullify her vote last round.”
“Which I have not forgotten, by the way.” Kelly sighs. “But a game is a game. And you did tell me ahead of time, so that’s why I’ve graciously allowed you to continue joining us.” She shifts back to Jackie. “In the spirit of the game, you are provided with all B’s and Q’s after the other players pick their letters. You then get to guess four letters more. Then you must solve with no other help.”
Michael speaks up to Jackie in the gentlest tone she’d heard from him today, “the first rule of a casino is that the house always win. Be careful, Jackie.”
Jackie looks around. All eyes are on her.
“Sure. I’ll go ahead and play your game,” Jackie fishes in her pockets. She pulls out a crisp five dollar BBQ bill. “Five dollars.”
The crowd moans. “No, no, it’s okay,” Kelly reprimands. “All bets are double or nothing. You get ten or you get nothing.” The crowd quiets down. “Hand it to Saoirse.”
Jackie does just that, and Saoirse pulls out a dollar counter. She puts the money through and says, “five dollars.”
“Thank you,” Kelly waves to DW. “Please go get a name from the barkeep.”
“DW, asshole! I have a name.” She shouts from behind the counter
Jackie gets up from her seat quietly. Her brain buzzes; Billie’s music fades out in her mind as she tunnel-visions to DW. She doesn’t even notice Michael approach the bar with her.
“Hey DW,” she greets.
“Don’t talk to me unless you want a sea-breeze with a twist of lime or clams casino until you win. Now pick.” DW shoves a hat out from under the bar. It’s not a normal hat. It appears to be an elf hat. Is this Buddy’s hat? What happened to him? Little pieces of paper fill it to the brim.
Jackie picks a name out and holds it. Before she can read, Michael pipes up.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Are you sure you want to do this, Michael? What do you have to gain in pre-jury with those bucks?”
“When I first came here, Arisa was terrified I’d ruin the game. Only real jurors are allowed to play after they’ve been evicted. But she told me of this secret power. It’s about six hundred BBQ dollars, but it brings me back into the game. This is the only way I can win it.”
“This game is so messed up.” She shakes her head.
“The name, Jackie?” Kelly beckons from the table.
“Walt Disney.”
“Ugh, that asshole,” Billie laments.
Jackie returns to her seat and Kelly smiles. The paper has already been filled out.

“_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _.”

— Walt Disney

Each member of the table begin to name off letters, on auto-pilot.
“I’ll be easy on you, Jackie,” Arisa begins. “A.”
Rob laughs. “I won’t be. G.”
“W.” Theodora announces, “like what Beast Boy didn’t get during my endurance competition.”
Michael sighs and looks it over. “E.”
Kelly glares at Michael. “You shouldn’t give so many vowels if you want me to be nice to you on your round.” She pauses. “H.”
Jackie looks visibly confused, but doesn’t mention it. Why does the dealer get to pick a letter? Does Saoirse? Jackie turns to her.
“Nothing from me. I’m just the banker.” Saoirse smiles, reading Jackie’s thoughts. That’s why she’s so nice. She doesn’t have skin in the game, just cash in hand.
Kelly dutifully fills in the letters and presents the quote back to Jackie.

“_ H E W A _ _ _ _ E _ _ _ A _ _ E _ _ _

_ _ Q _ _ _ _ A _ _ _ _ G A _ _ B E G _ _ _ _ _ _ G.”

— Walt Disney

“You get four letters yourself. Then you have to guess the full quote accurately, in its entirely. Then $10 is all yours. Easy, no?” Kelly smiles, breaking her dictatorial tension.
Jackie sits and contemplates. What would the antisemite say that could be seen as inspirational? For a moment, she breaks concentration and looks around the room. Michael is the only one who meets her eye. She turns back to the bar and sees DW.
“D. I’ll start with D.” But, Kelly doesn’t move. Shit. Jackie thinks. I don’t get to see it til the end. “This doesn’t feel like hangman. This feels like the last round of Wheel of Fortune.”
Kelly laughs. “Sure. So sue me.”
“Why?”
Kelly shrugs.
“S,” Jackie keeps moving. “T.” And I think I need another vowel to bring this home. “U.”
“Oh, no, no, miss Jackie. That would be a fifth letter.”
“No it wouldn’t be. I said D, S, T and U.”
“Correction. You said D, Y, S, and T. Then tried to add a vowel. It’s not that close to Wheel of Fortune.” Kelly has a shit-eating grin. Jackie was got.

“T H E W A Y T _ G E T S T A _ T E D _ S

T _ Q _ _ T T A _ _ _ _ G A _ D B E G _ _ D _ _ _ G.”

— Walt Disney

Jackie sits for a moment and thinks. So the dealer is playing to beat me by confusing me.
“The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing,” Jackie guesses aloud. There is a silence in the room, as the crowd anticipates the reveal.
Kelly blinks for a moment and pulls out an envelope labeled Answer. She slips a note out and reads it. “Correct.” She cracks a smile. “Good job, Jackie.” She hands a five dollar bill to Saoirse, who puts it in the machine along with Jackie’s original bet.
“Ten dollars. Congratulations, Jackie.” Saoirse hands the freshly counted set of bills to Jackie.
“It’s too bad,” Kelly remarks. “With Hottie’s money from today and the rest of the chumps here, I’d have enough for the Diamond Power of Veto.”
That is when it struck Jackie. “Wait, isn’t that the casino’s money? The house always wins, right?”
The crowd giggles as the naivety. Arisa turns to Jackie. “Oh, sweetie.” She pats Jackie on the shoulder. “This isn’t the casino’s money. This is Kelly’s money.”
“It’s true,” Kelly adds. “Do you know how many BBQ dollars I’ve taken? Do you understand the threats I’e made? Do you know that I am single handedly just one HOH win away from acquiring that Diamond Power of Veto?”
She continues, “I’ve been bank rolling Arisa over here for months. How do you think she comes up with the prize money? From little ol’ me.” She turns to the rest, “and I guess a little help from her… sucker friends.”
Michael finally interjects, “hey, don’t sass them.”
“We handle her sass just fine,” Arisa notes. “I’m still out four thousand, but it could have been so much worse.”
“And I’ve paid rent more than once off a little friendly wager,” Rob adds.
“It doesn’t seem very friendly to me,” Jackie admits.
“Well, this year I finally got casted after some debt got a bit too high for my liking. Thanks for that, Saorise.”
So that’s why she isn’t playing.
“Kelly, you’re only twenty BBQ bucks away from taking that power?”
“It’s true. After the secret HOH got gobbled up by some lunatic, I knew I had to gun it for the top prize.” Kelly smiles. “There’s nothing you can do. Even if I don’t win HOH, by the end of the night I’ll have far more than enough to take it.”
Jackie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Kelly was conning the game to get more than was even remotely possible, and it’s all because of the debts she held over the hosts and fellow houseguests. The game was rigged.
“Michael. The suitcase.” Jackie suddenly commands.
“What? No—” was an answer Jackie did not accept, as she jumps out of her seat and unzips the case. “I’m taking the stacks, Michael.” Wad after wad of cash falls in a comedic pile. She takes as much as she can in her arms and plops it on top, in front of Saoirse. Michael throws his hands up and leans back. The banker immediately begins counting.
“Michael, trust me.” Jackie coos as she takes her seat. “Double or nothing, Kelly. For all the clams.”
DW, upon hearing this, shouts, “I don’t actually have clams back here. Just a toaster.” Good thing we got that out of the way earlier in the story, or that would have been a bad time to insert specific words!
Kelly cracks a devilish grin. “Are you kidding me? This is how you want to go out? Giving me every power imaginable and you with nothing?”
“I guess that’s how it looks,” Jackie sasses.
“Alright. Go pick a name, hun. And you better make it a good one.”
Theodora pipes up, “hey, I was next. She has to wait her turn.”
“Well, Ms. Horror Limited Series on Netflix That Isn’t Actually A Limited Series Because It Got Another Season, you haven’t bet like this since last season. Bring a chunk of change and we can talk.”
At the bar, DW pulls out a hat. It’s a different hat. This one is much smaller, perhaps owned by a grinch of a dog. There are only a few names inside.
“I do have one clam, if you need a snack. I just don’t want Rob to eat my entire stock again,” DW murmurs.
In protest, Jackie asserts “this isn’t the same hat.”
“I don’t make the rules. You bet low, you get the first hat. You bet high, you get, well, this one.” DW pushes the tiny hat out and Jackie has no choice but to pick a name.
“Cybill Shepherd.” Jackie takes the name and sits back down. Walt Disney was one thing. This is another. She already looks defeated.
“Who is that?” Michael pipes up from his spot at the table.
“You uncultured swine,” Saoirse finally reveal her internal sass we all knew existed.
Kelly pulls out a daunting sheet. There are much more blanks than Jackie imagined.

“_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _,

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _,

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _.”

— Cybill Shepherd

“W,” says Arisa. “J,” says Theodora. Each letter provided by the fellow players felt like bullet wounds. The least helpful letters she could imagine. “X,” says Rob. They all turn to Michael.
“A,” he says. His sorrowful eyes dart down to the board.
“I’ll give you… V.” Kelly begins to scribble down the letters in the blanks. “With B and Q, this is what you have to work with.”

“_ _ _ _ A V _ _ _ _ _ _ _ A _ _ _ _ A _ A B B_ _,

_ _ _ _ _ A _ A _ _ _ _ _ _ A _ _ _ _,

A _ _ _ _ _ B _ A _ _ _ _ A _ _ A _ _ _ _ _.”

— Cybill Shepherd

Jackie quickly does some calculations in her mind. The three letter word beginning with A is likely AND. I shouldn’t do N or D. I think I should do—
“R.”
And I need to make sure I add enough vowels to actually parse this information—
“E.”
Though I have no idea what that first word would be—
“O.”
“Speed wagon,” Rob gaffs. No one appreciates it. Especially not Jackie.
But that’s when it hit her. She knew what it was. She didn’t need any letters at all.
“Y,” Jackie smirks. Kelly returns the exact same smirk, internally believing this girl has lost it all.
“Coming right up,” Kelly twists the board.

“Y O _ _ A V E _ _ E _ _ R A _ _ O _ A R A B B_ _,

_ _ E _ _ A R A _ _ E R O _ A _ _ _ _,

A _ _ _ _ E B R A _ _ O _ A _ _ A _ Y _ _ _.”

— Cybill Shepherd

“And now you solve. Good luck. You need it.” Kelly has won. She speaks with confidence of someone who has successfully gotten away with the perfect crime. Invite a pawn, and bring in a big-gun player. Then tear them down financially in secret.
But Jackie has other thoughts.
“You know, Kelly,” she begins. “I may be just a girl playing a forum Big Brother game in Las Vegas, but I’m not an idiot.”
Kelly laughs. “Oh you are definitely an idiot.”
“Do you know who Cybill Shepherd is?”
Kelly blinks. “No, I don’t. But it doesn’t matter.”
“Kelly, Cybill Shepherd is an iconic actress. Guess which era.”
The dealer looks to the other players. They don’t seem to know what Jackie is getting at either. “I don’t know. The 50s? Black and white films?”
“No. The 70s.”
It dawns on Kelly.
“She’s an iconic, beautiful actress with the snarkiest lines I have ever heard. She’s my real life inspiration. You know, on That 70s Show.”
Kelly drops any sort of kindness facade she was maintaining.
“What are you—”
“Kelly. You have the morals of a rabbit, the character of a slug, and the brain of a platypus.”
Kelly stands still for a moment. She reaches for the answer key envelope and pulls out the slip. She doesn’t say a word for a good minute.
“Correct.”
Michael jumps up and cheers. Saoirse has already begun counting from Kelly’s large pile of money to pay out Jackie.
“Wait, wait— do you have a phone? How did you do that?”
“Kelly, I’ve kept an eye on her all game. She’s playing from her head,” Arisa chimes in.
Saoirse hands the stack over to Jackie. “Just under seven hundred.”
Jackie immediately turns to Arisa. “Arisa, I would like to—
Arisa stops her. “I swear to God if you don’t formally put this request in on the forum, I will bring the fury of Valhalla down on your body.”
Jackie steps away. “Fair. You’ll be hearing from me shortly. Come on Michael, let’s go.”
“But my buy back power!”
“Michael, you aren’t coming back. Let’s go.”
The two step away in to the hallway. Kelly, stunned, drops to her knees. “Shit, shit shit!” She screams.

Arisa turns back to the Kelly, “well, at least you could still win $500.”