Revenge of the Casino in Space (Part 1)

"Yep, it's good to be home." Randy nodded, as the two of us stood at the entrance of a brightly illuminated structure.

I turned toward him. "I don't want to doubt you, considering what happened the last time we were here, but do you really think gambling is the answer to our problems?"

He laughed. "Of course it is. As long as we don't doubt the mojo, we can't lose." Without wasting another breath, he walked through a set of sliding glass doors, into one of the many casinos on the Space Las Vegas strip. This one happened to be in the shape of the Eiffel Tower.

Immediately as we entered, a very buff robo-bouncer, who was wearing a black and white striped long sleeved shirt and pair of black overalls, halted us. On top of its monitor shaped head, sat a comically small black beret. "Please present le identification. Boop beep." It spoke in a deep voice with a forced robotic attempt at a French accent.

"Here you go, robo-bro." Randy flashed his ID chip, which the security-bot scanned.

"Le enter. Boop beep." It waved him in, as it displayed his info on its face screen.

As I approached, it immediately put out its arm to block me while it displayed a red X across its screen. "Le minors are not allowed. Boop beep."

"I swear, everytime." I grumbled under my breath, as I pulled out my ID.

The robot proceeded to scan it, but it still refused to move its arm. "There is a possibility that le ID may be fake. Based on your appearance, le probability of you being a minor is high. Boop beep."

"But I’m actually 21! What more do you want from me, a blood test?" I sneered.

"Le yes." The security-bot responded flatly, as it forcefully grabbed my left arm.

"What the heck are you-?"

Before I could resist any further, it transformed its arm into a syringe and shoved a needle into my arm, extracting a vial of my blood. "Le sample acquired. Boop beep." It retracted the vial into its arm. A red loading meter appeared on its screen. There was a ding that sounded like a microwave beeping once its analysis was completed. "You are in fact a le adult. You may proceed. Boop beep."

After having my right to privacy violated, I was finally able to join my brother...

"Time for us to get to work, little bro!" Randy excitedly smacked my back.

"What are we playing this time?" I wondered.

He laughed. "Today your big bro's going to teach you about the game of gentlemen... baccarat."

"I'm pretty sure that's cricket, but whatever. Just lead the way."

I tailed behind him, as the two of us made our way over to an excessively steep set of neon illuminated escalators, which Randy excitedly hopped onto. "Up we go!"

After ascending several stories, we eventually made it to our destination on the eighth floor.

Randy took a single glance around the room full of card tables. "This is the peasant section. We're looking for big returns, so we need to play like kings." He continued surveying the area until his eyes locked onto a sign that read, 'Le High Roller Room'. He snapped his fingers then pointed. "Now that's what we're looking for!"

Eagerly, he escorted us into a separate room that was sectioned off from the main area by a large white granite wall. Inside was completely empty other than the robo-dealers that manned their respective table.

The two of us took our seats at a half circle shaped table, which the surface of was made of blue velvet. The robo-dealer greeted us in its monotone synthetic voice. "Bonjour messieurs. Beep bop." Just like the security-bot up front, it too was dressed in a black and white striped shirt and a beret.

"Ban jer to you too, Italian robo-bro." Randy ignorantly responded.

"That's French, Randy." I muttered to him.

"I think you're confused, little bro. This Casino is based off that Tower of Pisa or whatever it's called."

He was definitely the one that was confused, but there was no use arguing with him, since we had more pressing matters to attend to...

"Get me however many chips this is worth." Randy slapped down a larger than expected stack of stollars onto the table.

My head twisted around toward him. "Wait a second, how the heck much money did you withdraw from our bank account!?"

"All of it." He calmly responded.

"All of it! Are you insane? That's like one hundred and fifty thousand stollars of loaned money."

He let out a sigh. "You better not go and start doubting the mojo now. We need to go big or go home."

I hated to admit it, but so far his superstitious gambling practices hadn't steered us wrong. In fact, they were the very reason we were able to start our business in the first place. I nodded at him. "Don't worry, I completely trust the mojo."

He obnoxiously slapped my back. "Now that's the spirit!"

The robo-dealer proceeded to slide a massive pile of chips over to my brother, which he took a fifth of and pushed it onto the section of the table labeled "banker".

Randy snapped his fingers and pointed at the dealer. "Draw those cards, Italian robo-bro!"

"Le of course. Beep bop." It responded, as it dispensed four cards from the box shaped deck shuffler on the table and flipped them over.

"Duck!" Randy shook his head. "I thought you said you had complete trust."

I shrugged. "I do... At least I think I do. I don't even know how this game is played."

Randy let out a sigh. "I swear, didn't they teach you anything back in elementary school?" He pointed at the cards on the table. "On the banker side there's a jack and a king, which is baccarat. On the player side there's a four and a five."

"And is baccarat a good thing or..." I trailed off confused.

"Depends... The goal of the game is to get as close to nine as you can. Baccarat is equal to zero. If I had bet on the player's side that would have been great because the banker would have lost, but I wanted the banker to win." He pushed over another portion of his chips, this time onto the 'player' section. "That was just a warm up. This is where we start playing for real."

The robot once again drew another four cards... This time on the banker’s side was a two and an ace, while the player’s side had ten and two.

"Le hit. Beep bop." The robot declared as it drew two additional cards, adding another ace on the banker side and a jack on the player side.

"Spit!" Randy shouted in frustration, slamming his fist down on the table.

"Le please control yourself, monsieur. Beep bop." The robot reprimanded him.

I blankly stared at the table. "I'm guessing we lost..."

"Yeah we lost. The banker had a score of 4 and the player had a score of 2." He lowered his voice, as he continued. "I need to talk with you in private for a moment, little bro." He picked up our chips and led the way over to the men's bathroom.

"What's wrong, Randy?" I wondered.

He stared at me with a serious look on his face. "That table was rigged!"

I look back at him, confused. "Was it when that robot drew those two extra cards?"

"No, not that. That's part of the game... I can't explain it, but I just got a hunch."

I paused. "...So you don't actually have any proof of cheating?"

His eyes, which he refused to blink, had an adamant look in them. "I don't need proof. I just know... Let's not forget who was right about the mind controlling sushi."

"I get that, but-."

He cut me off. "There you go again. I swear, you never learn, do you? Butts are for crapping." He smacked my shoulder. “I have some comped meal vouchers. Let’s take a quick breather and regroup!” Waving around his gold player’s card, he led the way to the food court.

He did have a point about the whole sushi thing, but part of me did have to wonder if his suspicion was just a cope for things not going his way…