How I became a millionaire

“John, you is…” Matthew paused to snort loudly, “You is a craby bastard. Roulette? Dumb…” Another snort, “Dumbshit!”

Yeah. Russian Roulette after a few to many shots of Tequila. Not my brightest move. But hey, this is Vegas! After a long month nonstop work, I decided this lawyer needed a break. And Matthew, being my best friend and probably the luckiest asshole I’ve ever met, got to come with me. He’s a freeloading ass of a man, but hey. Still a friend. I laughed at my friend, slapping his back a little to hard. “Oh shuts up Matty! Imma… Imma make us rich!” Oh yeah. I was beyond hammered. Like, borderline unconscious. And I had a gun to my head. Oh wow… How did I make it though high school, exactly? Pfft. One of life’s great mysteries I suppose.

“Ready,” said the Indian man who was running our little game.

“Oh he’s,” a loud snort, “Readaby!”

Laughing like the idiot I was, I squeezed my eyes shut, and pulled the trigger without a second thought.


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