Continuing… (It's Part 6 in the saga, I fucked up. Sorry.)
So, after a few re-fueling and impromptu cigar-purchasing stops in South and Central America, we wheel up to the deserted jetway at LAX.
“Thought we were going to Elmendorf?” I asked.
“This isn’t it?” the pilot replied, feigning worry.
“No.”, I replied, “Looks like California. Fruits and nuts. All around. What’s going on? One minute we’re off to Texas, then Cali, then Texas again, now we end up here at the California airport of the iconic tower.”
“Yeah, it’s confusing enough haulin’ civilians around. But when we get a call from Virginia, we tend to comply without any questions,” the pilot explains.
“Aw, shit!”, I sort of exclaim, “Rack and Ruin called?”
“Yeah”, the pilot replies, “Figures you’d know these guys. They said they were closer to LAX rather than Texas and had us divert here. In fact, you look over there, see that dark blue Chevy? That’s them; and evidently, your ride.”
I tipped the airman from earlier a couple of cigars as he helped me with my gear off the plane and into the trunk of Rack and Ruin’s plain-Jane blue late modeled Chevy. Had to move the Sidewinder Missiles off to one side, though.
“Most honorable Agents Lack and Luin!” I quipped in my faux-racist greeting. “What the hell, guys? I’ve got to get to Japan and get some newly rigidified digits.”
“Let’s see your hand”, Agent Rack asks. “Nasty.”
“Yeah”, I sigh “And with the medicos in South America and their penchant for plaster, I don’t so much have a left hand as more of an ankylosaur tail.”
“Or Thagomizer”, Agent Ruin tittered. “Anyone gives you grief, and one upside the head should set them right. Or dead.”
“You’re a riot, Ruin.” I replied, “But not entirely incorrect.”
We all agreed that I really didn’t need any extra accouterments to make myself look more dangerous. I mean with my severe haircut, stern beard clip, and perpetual ‘Go fuck yourself’ scowl.
“Yeah”, I replied, stroking the aforementioned beard, “I just can’t get that. I’m such a people person.”
After Agents Rack and Ruin finished drying their eyes from laughing what I thought was en extremis, we finally got down to business.
“So, what’s the skinny, guys”, I asked. “New marching orders?”
“No. Not as such”, Agent Ruin said, still sniggering over my ‘people person’ comment.
I see we’re moving. Agent Rack is just driving casually, like Chewbacca when they were waiting to see if the Empire went for that expensive Bothan code.
“Then, what?” I asked, getting a slight bit piqued.
“Well”, Agent Ruin noted, “When you went to South America, you took some of your artillery collection with, correct?”
“You know I did. You even made some snide comments about my personal choice of sidearms and their ‘excessive’ calibers, if memory serves”, I reiterated.
“And if you are proceeding normally, as you always do, they’re all nestled in the trunk of this very car. All cleaned, quiet, unloaded, and smelling sweetly of Hoppe’s Number 9 and WD 40, correct?” Rack inquired.
“Yes?” I cautiously venture.
“Well, ya’ big dummy, do you think they’re going to let you saunter into Tokyo armed like the Third Fleet?” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Um…well…I do have a Diplomatic Passport.” I ventured.
“That’s not going to work this time.”, Agent Ruin said, shaking his head. “They’re tighter than Dick’s Hatband about sidearms. Want to bring in your Rigby SXS .500 Nitro Express double rifle? Not a problem. Sidearms, especially in your alien hunting calibers, nope.”
Well, that’s just….*dandy!”, I reply, semi-put out. “Now what the hell am I going to do?”
“Ever think that’s why Ruin and I are here, now?”, Rack asks.
“And here I thought it was just so you could bask in the warm glow of my fucking wonderful personality. Or that you actually cared about me as a real goddamn human”, I joshed.
“Ummm…yeah”, Rack replies, “There’s no way we can answer that without going on some Deadpool list. “
I agreed.
“OK, here’s the deal: you get your sidearms, ammunition, speed loaders, brass knuckles, Asp, laser range finders, Sap, Zeiss scopes, Kukri, Wisconsin Cheese Whittler, Buck folding skinner, Marine K-Bar, those two ultra-illegal Cheburkov Cobra titanium switchblades...”
“Three. Olga the KGB lady sent me one for Geologist’s Day.”
“Ahem. Those three ultra-illegal Cheburkov switchblades, that Wyoming Speedholer, your MASER Time-Distance Computer, garrote, pocket rail gun and whatever else lethal you carry and deposit it in the iron box in the trunk. We’ll ensure that it’s delivered to Esme post-haste. And by post-haste I mean one of our guys will deliver it personally.”
“Well…I suppose”, I conceded, “But best send someone who’s been to the house recently. I don’t know how much bigger Khan has grown since I left on this little fantasy trip. Wouldn’t want a star on the wall in Langley for someone eaten by a mastiff. Want to see a picture….Oh, bother. That’s right. My phone’s at the bottom of fucking Lake Maracaibo.”
“Good point”, Ruin interjects, “Guess we’ll do a little road trip and deliver it ourselves. Best call Esme and let her know what’s going on.”
“I have no objections to your proposals. Please give Esme this when you see her. I had some luck in the Calaveras Casino and if I don’t send her some mad money. Ouch. She’ll never forgive me for not taking her along to Japan.” I asked.
“But I thought Esme hated Japan? Too crowded and too ‘fussy’, I believe was her estimation.” Ruin asked.
“Yes, but once she saw the Ginza, all bets were off. Shopping the likes of which even Allah himself hasn’t seen.” I replied, slowly shaking my head.
“I see”, Ruin said, “Well, since you’re off to Sapporo, perhaps you can do a recon for Esme on the shopping there.”
“Not bad. Not bad at all.”, I smiled, “Now I know why I let you guys hang around with me.”
So, as advertised, I am now standing on the tarmac at LAX, basically feeling naked.
“Can’t I keep just one switchblade?” I moaned to Agent Rack.
“Go ahead, if you’re really keen on donating it to Japanese customs”, he replied.
“Fuckbuckets.” I groused.
“There, there now. That’s the usual Dr. Rocknocker of which we’re all so fond.” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Remember, you do have that wallet-sized credit card gizmo from the Company. So you’re not entirely ‘naked’. Think of it as an emergency breechcloth.” He smiled.
“I’d like a larger model if you don’t mind. It’s chilly out here.” I joshed.
After Agents Rack and Ruin stripped me metaphorically naked as they de-weaponized me, they handed me a Business Class ticket to Tokyo, and a pass to the Japan Airlines Hospitality Suite and Lounge.
“So sorry you guys can’t hang around and have a few farewell snorts”, I chided, “But you’ve got a bit of a drive, so best be off before the weather turns to shit.”
“Who says we’re driving?” Agent Rack asked as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the ready and waiting C-130 cargo plane currently taxiing slowly in our direction.
“Well, in that case”, I smiled even more broadly, “Let’s invite the flight crew to join us. That’ll make the flight home all that much more interesting.”
After near tear-jerking farewell sentimentalities, i.e., “Piss on you”, “Get stuffed” and “Take a fuckin’ hike”; Agents Rack and Ruin, my weapons and the Agency’s plain-Jane Blue Chevy were all nestled snugger than buggers in ruggers in the belly of the thundering C-130.
Now truly on my own, I trudge the hundred thousand or so centisteps to my departure terminal, make a quick recon that my flight’s still slated to go in a generally westward direction, and hightail it to the nearest courtesy desk to ask for a motorized cart to take me and my remaining luggage to the JAL Hospitality Suite.
Hey. I’m old, infirm, and currently among the walking wounded.
Anyone that disagrees risks an Ankylosaur tail club swat or Thagomizer to the skull.
Finally ensconced in the JAL Hospitality Suite, Polo Lounge of course; I was drinking Tokyo Teas (3 oz. vodka, 2 oz. gin, 2 oz. rum, 1 oz. triple sec, 1 oz. Midori, good splash of lime juice, a slight splash of 7-Up (diet, of course), over ice with a lime wheel) with Pabst Blue Ribbon Extra 1844 chasers and Hangar One’s “Fog Point” vodka on the side, hiding from the brutish realities of this foul year of two thousand and twenty-something, Common Era…
I’ve already called Esme and we’ve had a good, long chat. She still managed to give me her shopping list for whenever I find myself bored on the Ginza.
She’ll be shocked when she learns that I’m not going to be in Tokyo long, but have 1st class tickets on the Bullet Train to Sapporo. Still, I’ll probably find myself in Pole Town or the Stellar Place there, trading piles of US greenbacks for locally produced Japanese curios and clothing.
I can hardly wait.
I order another round of drinks, as the wonderful attendants in the Hospitality Suite were bored out of their skulls because of the COVID-induced drop-in customers flying anywhere that requires a hospitality room stay, and I was virtually the only one around. They tried their level best to outdo each other when it comes to Japanese efficiency and friendliness.
After a couple of hours, they ask if I would like something from the grill, as the day chef had “the COVID” and the night chef just arrived. A quick perusal of the menu and I chose a 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse and another round of drinks.
I usually don’t like to eat too much before I fly, but JAL tells me the flight is going to be virtually empty, something like <121 pax, all told, so restroom availability shouldn’t be too much of a concern.
Plus, who am I to say no to a free, blue 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse?
There was a bit of difficulty conveying to the chef through the intermediaries of the hospitality just how I wanted my steak.
“Blue,” I said.
“Brue?” was the reply.
“Rare. Very, very rare.” I continued.
Look of total bewilderment.
I drag out my Personal Language Pro, speak “Steak, very, very rate” into the infernal gizmo, and hand the contraption to the attendant.
“珍しい、非常に珍しいステーキ?”[ Mezurashī, hijō ni mezurashī sutēki?]
“Raw! Nama!” I say, louder than need be.
They toddle off to find the chef.
“How is it sir, that you would like your steak cooked?” he asks.
“Very rare. Just a minute or two per side. Inside still cold.” I instructed.
All I got for the trouble was a puzzled smile.
“Give me the language gizmo…” I type in a few words…
“お尻を洗い、角をノックオフして、ここから出してください”
[O shiri o arai,-kaku o nokkuofu shite, koko kara dashite kudasai.]
“Wash its ass, knock its horns off, and walk it out here.”
“OH!” as the lightbulb pops. “Rare. Got it! Excellent!” the chef laughs and zips back to the kitchen.
Like I always say, I’m nothing if not the international ambassador of amity and goodwill.
“Crack tubes!”
Dinner was fantastic. I do wish I could have somehow mailed the Porterhouse bone back home for Khan. After that hambone incident, he might even taste it.
Finally on the plane, in an almost empty Business Class, the flight captain informs us that we’re headed to Haneda Airport Tokyo and anyone not headed in that direction better ‘haul ass off’ the flight or forever hold their peace.
Late-night international flights tend to be a bit more wooly than your average Chicago to Omaha gig.
Especially when the flight’s damn near empty and we have the next 12 hours or so to be best friends.
We taxi, turn and head into the wind. I’m doctoring up a couple of dossiers and keeping my personal cabin attendant, Luna since there were two of us in Business and two business flight attendants, busy with her trying to play ‘Stump the Geologist’.
“I’ll bet you never had this before.” She beamed and handed me a tumbler of very dangerous-looking brown liquor.
I cautiously sniff, take a modest gulp, swirl and glug the rest down.
“Ohishi Single Sherry Cask”, I say with a muffled belch. “Light. Fruity. An Englishman’s drink.”
“Oh. You knew. Let me try again.” She smiles beatifically.
“I have no objections to your proposal.” I smile as nicely as this crotchety old Komodo Dragon could.
She returns with another flagon of spirits; it smells of obsidian, leather, and earth.
I just had some of this back in LAX. I take a snort, smile, and shotgun the rest.
“Hibiki Japanese Harmony…lovely stuff.” I smile. “A little light for my jaded palate, but I’d never turn it down if it were free.”
“Oh, you win again. Wait. One more.” She smiles and skitters off to the galley.
She returns with another soupçon of some more dangerous brown liquor.
“Here, try this. It will make you very popular at social gatherings”. She smiles.
Sniff. “Splendid.” Snort. Swirl. Smile. Shotgun.
“Kanosuke New Born, if I’m not mistaken.” I smile back. “Very nice. I really do like this one.”
“You too good at this. One more!” she stands and stomps off defiantly. She returns in a trice and hands me the glass.
“Hmm…brown. Light notes of earth, leather, dating your daughter, and Kentucky…
“Beam Suntory, right?”
“You know them all!” she says, feigning irritation.
“And I thank you. Those were all excellent. Now, anything in the dangerous clear liquor category? I asked.
Luna smiled as I palmed off a 20k yen tip.
“Oh, no sir. Wait until we land.” She demurred, referring to the gratuity; which is know is not de rigueur in the Orient, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Just in case we never make it to Tokyo”, I laughed, unknowingly presciently.
We both chuckled about that last line as she tried out various sakes and shōchūs and an actual Japanese ‘White Liquor’ (ホワイトリカー), which were all excellent as was the company.
I tell her that I need to get some work done and could she bring me a tall Rocknocker. After explain the origins and construction of the eponymous drink, she brings me one that must tip the scales at 1 or so liters.
She settles down to an empty seat and I get after the work that I need to finish before we land. I’m about ½ way through my drink when it felt as if the plane hit a brick wall. She quivered and quaked and clutched at herself while I made some comments about the pilot’s mental health.
We dropped like a paralyzed falcon, then just as suddenly, felt like it was an express elevator to Angel’s 11. The plane bucked and shimmied, wickedly. Then we slam-danced right and fell a few more stories. It was like we were in a Mixmaster and the owner was trying out every speed.
The emergency lights in the 777-300ER popped on, and the fasten seat belt sign barked loudly so even sleeping travelers could enjoy the show.
Rinse. Spin. Shudder. Repeat.
Finally, the ride smooths out and we hear the captain on the blower.
“This is your captain speaking…ah, we seem to have hit some uncharted turbulence back there.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious”, I muttered.
“Everything’s A-OK. “ he reports.
“That’s good”, I note.
“But…”
“There’s always the but…” I groan.
“…we have a couple of warning lights for which we can’t quite account. So to just be safe and certain, we’re going to divert to Hawaii, get a clean bill of health and resume this flight once we make sure everything here is hunky-dory.”
There were scattered groans and applause. Add them together and divide by two and the average response on the flight was “Meh. Whatever.”
Except for the other guy in Business, with whom I hadn’t shared two words. He began to absolutely lose his shit.
“Oh, man! We’re so screwed! Mechanical malfunction? What does that mean?” he positively fizzed with fear.
The flight attendants tried to calm him down, to no avail. They basically gave up and said they’d report his misgivings to the Captain.
I motioned over to my personal flight attendant, Luna, and asked if I could be of service.
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled at me, “If you could speak with him. You are so calm, and he is…”
“Losing his bloody mind”, I chuckled as I finished her sentence for her. “Of course, I’ll take a stab at it.”
So, I grab my drink and ease over to my Business Class partner and introduce myself.
“Hey, pal. How’s it going? I’m Dr. Rock, gentleman, scholar, and connoisseur of cigars and things alcoholic. You doing OK?”
He looks at me with an ashen face and his eyes the size of bloodshot dinner plates.
“Yeah. I’m Todd Schotts. I’m flying to Japan for business.” He mumbles
“No surprise there,” I reply calmly and take a slug of my drink.
“But now we’re all going to die. The plane is busted and we’ll crash…” he started off again.
“So, Todd is it? Good. You drink?” I asked.
“Yeah?”, he stammered back.
I asked Luna to make us a fresh batch of my eponymous cocktails.
“OK, Todd, listen up”, I began after the drinks were served, “I have flown literally millions of miles over the last 4 decades. On Aeroflot when it was still the USSR. On TACA (Take A Chance Airways), on Chalk’s in the Caribbean, on Bob’s Verrifast Plane Company in Rhodesia, on regional carriers that don’t even exist anymore. All over the world. Had some bad experiences flying, and me ol’ mugger, this ain’t one of them. This is nothing more than the glitch for this mission.”
I chuckled lightly and complimented Luna on a fantastic drink.
“Yeah…yeah…yeah…but we have to land and check out some lights…” Todd squealed.
“Well now, Todd. It would be rather difficult to do any external assessment while in flight, don’t you agree?” I asked.
“But we’re diverting. We have to land and that adds more risk. We’re going to crash and die!” he was coming more and more unglued.
“I will bet you every cent you have on your person and home bank accounts that that will not happen”, I chuckled.
That took him by surprise. At least it shut him up for a while.
“Look, Todd. This is Boeing’s latest model. They have the most incredible safety record. And if a little clear air turbulence were to be knocking planes out of the sky, don’t you think we’d hear about it as the press went berserk?” I asked.
“But they don’t know what the lights mean! What if one of the engines’s out? How far can we fly on one engine?” Todd stuttered.
Having my fill of a supposedly grown man with inane childlike fears, I calmly replied,
“All the way to the crash site.”
He went white.
“...hope we hit something hard. I don’t want to limp away from this.”
He went limp.
Then I went to my seat and motioned for Luna to prepare a reload.
Of course, 45 minutes later, we land without incident at Daniel K. Inouye International Airport, Honolulu Hawaii.
We were told to just wait around until they figure out what the problem if any, was.
They had officials waiting at the end of the jetway to check our COVID status and passports before they let us loose in the terminal.
I asked Luna if she knew this airport. She noted that she did.
“Is there a JAL hospitality room here at this airport? I asked.
“Yes, Doctor. It’s the Sakura Lounge. It is located on the third level above The Local, Terminal 2.” She replied.
“Please notify whoever needs to know that that’s where I’ll be for the duration”, I smiled and handed her my business card. “See you soon, I hope.”
“Oh, Dr. Rock”, she replied, “I am sure it is nothing much. We’ll be back in the air within mere hours.”
“Well then”, I smiled, “Guess I’d better get ready to hoof it to the lounge.”
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled, “No rush. I will call for you a courtesy cart. You are injured, you are Business, you are priority.”
“I love that Asian efficiency.” I smiled back and toddled down the jetway.
At the terminus of the jetway, I show my COVID-clear papers, dates and times of my Anti-Virus vaccine administrations, the letter from Virginia clearing me of all detention, and my red Russian diplomatic passport.
While in the cart, whizzing our way to the JAL lounge, the driver said “Man! You must be some kind of VIP. You were through that welcoming committee in less than two minutes!”
“Me? Nah!”, I chuckled, “Just an old phart of a geologist that they didn’t want to mess with. Not on such a bright, sunny day as this.”
“I see you’re not wearing a mask.” The driver quipped.
“Very observant. There are reasons for that.” I replied.
He careens around a corner and if this were a normal pre-Covid day, I’m certain we’d have killed hundreds. However, the airport, as I’ve come to grow accustomed to, was virtually deserted.
“Yeah? Like what?” he asks.
“Well, Scooter, 1. I have an active and hardworking immune system that I let off the chain every once in a while for exercise. Got to let it know what it’s up against, right? 2. I’ve had all my shots and some that were experimental. They seem to have worked. And 3. I find it difficult to drink and smoke cigars while wearing a mask. However, if you’d prefer, I will mask up. No problem, though it still is optional.”
“Nah, man”, he said, “I was just wondering if you were one of those religious idiots or conspiracy nuts.”
Nope”, I smiled back, “Just another geologist out in the world plying his trade for cash. Y’know, whorin’ around for money.”
He laughs aloud as we skid to a stop right in front of Lounge.
I slip the guy a $20 and ask if he’d listen for the JAL flight I was just on. If we’re going on ahead today, I’d need him to scoot by and putt-putt me back to the plane.
He laughs and pockets the $20 as quick as a mink ruts.
“No worries. I’ll just hang around this area. I hear anything about the flight, I’ll come and let you know.” He grins.
“Good man”, I say, as I hand him my card. “I’m Dr. Rocknocker. Call me Rock”.
“And I’m Kapula Mano, call me Kap” he replies.
“Good man”, I say again, “Hope to see you in a while.”
He grins, floors his electric cart, and peels out at speeds approaching 4.5 MPH.
I wander into the lounge, show my credentials, and am escorted to a post up on Mahogany Ridge.
The bar is very quiet. Besides the bartender, I can’t see anyone else in the darkened and Smooth Jazz-infused drinking emporium.
I order a local drink, a Mai Tai, just for the experience and something a bit different.
It’s served in a goldfish bowl on a stem, bedecked with a slice of lime, a sprig of mint, a stick of sugar cane, a polychromatic orchid, and the obligate paper umbrella.
“Ah. Mai Tai. I will enjoy it.” I said to no one in particular.
One was enough, and I decided to go back to the old standard. Once I explained to the bartender what that was, he made them heroic and enthusiastically.
I’m reading up on a random dossier, making notes in a new file, and puffing away on a Fuentes Onyx double Maduro Churchill cigar.
I hear a slight cough coming from my right, and this here lovely lady, she sat to my immediate starboard and looked at me semi-quizzically.
Not in the mood for shenanigans of any stripe, I give her the obligate Baja Canada nod and tilt of the drink. I return to my dossiers and continue to read and take notes.
“Excuse me!” I hear.
Fearing the worst, either the woman is Karen-oid anti-smoking or a religious fruit-and-nutburger, I slowly turn to face her and reply, somewhat glacially, I have to admit.
“What?”
“That cigar…”
“Here we go…” I mutter, eyes rolling northward.
“Smells exquisite. Could you tell me the brand? My husband would enjoy some like that.” She notes.
Instantly my demeanor switches 180^0.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s an Arturo Fuentes Onyx. Churchill size, or 60 ring x 7” length, double Maduro. Here, take one for your husband. I have an ample supply.” I smile.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t. Could I?” she asks.
“Please. I insist.” I smile the best I could given the circumstances.
“Thank you. You’re too kind…umm…Mr….?”
“Doctor. Doctor Rocknocker. World traveler, oilman, and international ambassador of amity, good drinks, and fine cigars. Call me Rock” I said.
“Oh! A Doctor?” she brightens.
“Yes, of Petroleum Geology and Engineering. Not medicine.” I chuckle.
She chuckles back.
“And I am Hella Aaberg”, as she offers her hand for a quick shake.
“Interesting name, Hella. Scandinavian or Old German heritage?” I ask.
“On my father’s side. He’s Finnish.” She replies.
“But I’ll wager your mother is not Scandinavian, correct?” I ask.
“She was from Truk, an island…”
“In the South Pacific, Micronesia. Was she from Weno city?” I asked.
“Why yes. How could you possibly know that?” she asked.
“Oh, I’ve been there. Great diving amongst the WWII wrecks. I think it’s actually called ‘Chuuk Lagoon’ or something like that now.” I said.
“That’s right! Amazing. Where else have you been?” she asked.
“Anywhere there’s oil, strife, booze, cigars, heavy explosives and typically long distances from whatever most normal people call civilization,” I replied with a chuckle.
Suddenly, I hear a voice booming out behind me.
“Why don’t you save that rapier-like wit for those musky-fuckers back home, Rocko?”
My expression changes. My eyes pop fully wide open.
“Hella?” I asked.
“Yes?”
“May I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask…”
“Thank you. Now, looking over my shoulder, is there a hulking goon of a person, thin up top, paunchy halfway down with the most ridiculously tiny sized shoes you’ve ever seen for a so-called grown man?” I ask.
“Yes. Yes, there is.” She replies.
“I thought so. Many thanks.”
I spin and launch off my barstool and grab Toivo by the hand. He hadn’t seen my left-hand Thagomizer yet.
“Toivo! You old sumbitch. What the flying fennec fox fuck are you, of all people, doing in Hawaii?” I laughed.
“Just keeping an eye on you, Rock!” he laughed equally as loud.
“No, fucking-A, seriously. What the actual fuck? What are you doing in this actual nice place?” I asked.
“Just headed to Tokyo to conduct a bit of service company business. I walked into the lounge and smelled a foul cigar. I figured it can’t be the venerable Dr. Rocknocker. He’s back at some school up north terrorizing geology and engineering grads and undergrads.” Toivo laughed.
“But there I was. Surprise!”, I laughed and pumped his hand.
“What the fuck, Rock. Now what did you do?” he asks, referring to my Ankylosaur tail club left hand.
“Ah, fuck. Long story. Oh, pardon me. Toivo, this is Hella. We were just talking about the South Seas Islands.” I said.
“Planning on running off together?” Toivo laughs, to the amusement of neither party.
“Oh, and this idiot is Toivo, a man with a congenital foot-in-mouth disorder. He’s mostly harmless.” I noted to Hella.
Greetings were shared all around. Hella made some small excuses and said she needed to depart. I gave her another cigar for her husband, shook her hand, and wished her well.
“Here’s my business card. If your husband has any questions, have him drop me a line.” I noted.
Hella smiled beautifully. She said she would. Then she thanked me shook our hands, and like that, there she was, gone.
“Well Toivo, you old bastard. Don't just stand there in the doorway like some lonesome goddamn mouse shit sheepherder, get your ass over here and have a drink.” I motioned over to my perch on Mahogany Ridge.
“Don’t mind if I do”, he says as he deftly winds his way to a seat to my left, snagging a cigar out of my pocket on the way over.
“You might want these”, I say in an exasperated tone, and hand him my gold Dunhill Hobnail lighter and V-cutter gizmo.
He cuts and fires up his heater.
“What you drinkin’, Rock”, he asks.
“Anything with alcohol, as usual. You know that Toiv.” I reply.
“No. I mean right now.” He clarifies.
“Well, I had a Mai Tai. Very nice if you like fruity, flowery drinks. It’s the locals’ favorite.” I reply.
“Sounds good. I’ll have several. And you?” Toivo asks.
“My usual. The bartender is already apprised of the situation.” I reply.
Toivo smiles the smile of one knowing his sobriety is going to be taken out for a swim. Hell, taken out and tossed into the deep end.
Toivo and I sit there, swapping lies, smoking cigars and sipping at our toddies.
Hell, Toivo was slurping them like a sump-pump during an extra-wet summer.
We chattered about family, work, whether or not Tokyo was going to host the Olympics or if the COVID-boogie man scared everyone off.
Toivo, always one afflicted with TB (“Tiny Bladder”) got up to go to the loo for the third time that hour. He left his pocket organizer on the bar and I swear on a stack of Origins of Species, I didn’t touch it.
I reached over to his vacated seat to retrieve my cigar lighter when I looked down and saw in his organizer a tab that reads “Rack & Ruin”.
“Oh. No. Fucking. Way.” I recoiled as I’d just reached out and petted a 6-foot hungover scorpion.
“One of my best friends? Secretly allied with the Agency? No. Not possible.” I drained my drink and called for another.
“No. No. No. It can’t be. No. No fucking way…” as doubt began to dissolve when I thought back to all those times I had just ‘run into’ Toivo.
“But he’s oil patch as well. That could be chalked up to coincidence.” I ruminated quizzically in my brain.
I quickly reflected back on J.M. Darhower: “Yes, you see, there’s no such thing as coincidence. There are no accidents in life. Everything that happens is the result of a calculated move that leads us to where we are.”
She may be the author of the execrable New Adult Sempre series, which Esme likes and I loathe, but she might just be right on this occasion.
Toivo return, lighter in the bladder and good sense. He never even noticed he’d left his organizer out in broad bar light for all to see.
“So, Toivo, when’s your flight?” I ask.
“Oh, man. Was I lucky. The JAL flight to Tokyo from Los Angeles had mechanical trouble and had to divert here. I got a ticket on the plane for that flight, when it continues.
“You mean ‘if it continues’,” I replied.
“Yeah. Yeah. That’s what I meant. Hey! Was that your flight?” he asks innocently. He’s really innocent of fieldcraft.
I decide to have some fun at my old friend’s expense.
“Yep. Hit some CAT (Clear Air Turbulence) and the JAL pilots reported some lighting problem. No apparent ruin to any of the systems. They relay racked their brains to figure it out, but they couldn’t that’s why I here.” I said, waiting for the words to swim upstream in Toivo’s coconut and make some sort of connection.
“Yeah. Double lucky. No problem with the plane and I get to go to Japan early.” Toivo crookedly grins.
“So, no trouble with the plane? Then why haven’t I heard that the flight’s going to resume?” I asked as I pushed a fresh, seriously strong drink to Toivo.
“Oh, must have heard it in the john.” Toivo countered and tried to cover his tracks by taking a huge gulp of his drink and damn near dying coughing.
I pound on Toivo’s back.
“Heimlich time?” I ask.
Toivo signals ‘no’.
“Jesus Christ, Rock. What was that?” he asks.
“Just my usual”, I innocently replied.
“Holy fuck. No wonder you have the reputation of…” Toivo realizes too late that he’s said too much.
“Yeah. They can rack you out. Really ruin a person if they’re not careful.” I reply icily.
“Why, Rock. Whatever do you mean?” Toivo slurred as he realized he’s been caught out.
“The jig is up, you turncoat. You know Agents Rack and Ruin from the agency. Right? You keeping tabs on me for them? You Quisling! You Benedict Arnold!” I almost was on the verge of losing my cool.
“It was nothing. They approached me years ago as I kept being mentioned in your reports. They asked me for some information. One thing leads to another…” Toivo was ready for an Ankylosaur tail club swat to the bean.
“Oh, put your fucking hands down, you asshole.” I smiled and chuckled.
“You’re not mad?” Toivo slurred badly. I had the bartender make him another special drink.
“No, Toivo. Not mad. Just disappointed.” I said, smiling like a Komodo Dragon just finishing up a fortnight-old wildebeest.
Toivo sat there and puzzled and puzzled until his puzzler was sore.
“You’re not going to kill me or anything rude like that?” Toivo asked, half-assedly trying to inject humor into the proceedings.
“Nah. The paperwork’s too ridiculous for me to do another liberation. But, Jesus Fucking Christwagons, Toivo; you could have mentioned it to me. Fuck, I thought we were friends to the end?” I said, dejectedly.
I was really getting through to Toivo. I could tell he was loaded; feeling like shit and massively deplorable.
Great fieldcraft, indeed.
I told him things “are what they are” and that I won’t blow his cover nor his honorarium.
He began to feel better. I often wonder if he was serious about the sanctioning thing.
Then I delivered the strategic missile strike.
“Just remember, Toivo. I wrote your dossier for the Company…”
He swivels to look at me.
“And one for the KGB. Olga says ‘howdy’.” I grin evilly.
Toivo short-circuited at that. Russia is his company’s bread and butter. Now he has the KGB as well as his best buddy looking over his shoulder at every move.
I bought him a few more drinks and continued to needle him about his ’leading a double life’. He was well and truly fuckered when the electric tap-tap driver from before came looking for me to whisk me back to the plane.
Seems it was simply some knocked-out wires on the plane, or slammed bulbs that were generating a false positive, indicating something other than the system that alerts one to something haywire went haywire.
Toivo was pretty much down for the count. I got him sober enough to hand them his ticket and ensure that he was really supposed to be on this flight. Thing was; h e was in Economy, and I was, as always, in Business.
I spoke to Luna, and the plane was going to be even less crowded than previously because some folks could or wouldn’t wait, or didn’t want to go on with the rest of the trip on a ‘damaged’ aircraft, or were just stupid and superstitious.
“Luna, could I pay for the difference between Business and Economy for my less than 100% conscious friend here? He’s had a rough day.” I asked.
“Dr. Rock. Just put him into Business. No one will be the wiser. Luna says so.” As she gave us a grand smile.
“Luna, I owe you. Thanks so much.” I said.
“Now get on board. Your friend looks like he needs all the downtime he can get.”
“Yes, ma’am!” I said and saluted here be best I could which dragging a schnozzled Toivo down the jetway.
I dumped Toivo in a window seat well away from my seat. I know Toivo. He snores like a semi-load of live hogs rocketing downhill locking up the brakes at 88 MPH.
Surprise! There was no one else in Business. Luna looked at me, at Toivo, and gave me a thumbs up.
Whatever I can write to further her career at JAL, she’ll have it before I deplane.
We finally get everyone settled, and with Captain Kangaroo at the helm, we bounced gracelessly off the tarmac, into the warm, tropical Hawaiian air, finally headed for the Land of the Rising Sun.
Toivo was snoring like a chainsaw hitting rusty nails as I worked on the various letters, communiques, and dossiers which needed updating before we reached touchdown. I gave Luna a thick letter with instructions not to open it until we were on the ground and Toivo and I were well off and away into the terminal.
We left Hawaii at 1300 hours, so we should arrive at Tokyo Nareda around 4:00 pm, the previous day. I was so bereft of time and time zones, I couldn’t figure out what time it really was, as judged by my biometric rhythms, so I asked Luna for a stiff drink as I was kicking off my boots and going to attempt to get some kip.
She brought me another liter or so eponymous drink. I was sawing logs by the time I slurped the last swig of that nifty drink.
Suddenly, or later, I have no idea really, some loudmouth drunk asshole from way-the-fuck-back in economy-land toward the ass end of the plane staggered into Business demanding free drinks.
Luna was nothing but civil, and asked him to both shut up and return to his seat. His air cabin hostess, or whatever the fuck they’re calling them these days, will attend to his needs.
“Naw they won’t! They want me to pay for more drinks! I’m broke but I demand more booze! You fucking owe me.” railed the asshole. “I sat at the bar in Hawaii for four hours. Them fuckers charged me an arm and a leg!”
“No, they don’t owe you shit”, I said in a voice that unmistakably loud and clear.
“Fuck you, old man! You stay the fuck out of this!” he bellowed. “Shut up or I’ll do ya’!”
“’Old man’? ‘Do me’? Excuse me. Luna, may I have a word alone with this individual?” I asked sweetly.
Luna shook her head in the affirmative, and I stood up to confront this flagrant asshole.
“Now look, Scooter. You have gone way, way over the fucking line. You are loud. You are abusive. You are obnoxious. And you stink. Plus you insulted a person who is just barely containing his righteous wrath right now. So, I’m giving you one and one only chance to shut up, sit back down before your body spontaneously develops all sort of bruises, contusions, broken bones, and unconsciousness.” I said calmly, evenly, and threateningly.
“What da’ fuck you think you’re going to do…old man?” he screeched, trying to inflate himself into full mammalian threat posture, all 5’ 9” of it.
He didn’t notice Toivo walking up quietly behind him, as Toivo was returning from the head, quiet as a moose.
“Well, Scooter, I am an Air Marshall. Duly appointed, fully trained, and properly pissed off. Right now, I can arrest you, physically detain you, turn this flight around and take you to the Hawaiian police, at your cost for the inconvenience of the entire flight. Or I could arrest you, physically detain you, and turn you over to the Japanese authorities when we land. It’s really your choice. Choose wisely.”
To be continued…⇝

First post...be kind! This happened way back in the dark ages, 1986. I was 21 at the time and working for a gas station that was associated with a certain grocery store chain in Washington state. It was owned by a company not affiliated with said chain, but had locations at nearly every one.
As this was long before the days of debit cards, this was a cash only gas station. We didn’t even take credit cards. Customers would pull up, pump their gas and then come to my window to pay. We also sold cigarettes. No drinks, no snacks...customers couldn’t even get into my booth. I had been working there about a year when the company announced it was closing the location. My manager and I were offered positions at another location upstate and we both accepted. We moved our respective families and started our new jobs. As new hires (ugh).
This station was incredible busy. We did more business in 8 hrs than my old location would do in a week. This location also had a different set up: here you would pull into the station from a single entrance, pump your gas, and then drive forward to a single exit where the “Pay Here” booth was located. There were always 2 cashiers on duty. Each cashier had a cash drawer.
One thing I should note, there were also no computers. So closing the drawer down between shifts was timing consuming and tedious. We had to manually count the cigarettes remaining, and count the cash drawers. We would fill out an end of shift report listing the starting balances and the ending balances. We also had to list the gallons sold from each pump. At the end of the shift the total of gallons sold and the total cigarettes sold should equal the cash balance. It is important to note here that not once in the year I had worked for the previous location had I been off by more than 10 cents.
The following morning after my first shift I was informed by the manager that I was short $50. Impossible I said, I balanced out yesterday. He said that I must have stolen that money after I had completed the paperwork. I just looked at him and said, no I didn’t. He gave me a verbal warning and said if it happened again I would be fired and the stolen money would be deducted from my paycheck this week.
In the 5 days that followed I realized quickly the manager was up to something. My old manager who was just another worker now, was also accused of stealing. As was one other new employee. I can’t vouch for the other employee but I’m pretty sure she did nothing wrong. The employees that had been there awhile were never accused of anything. I did some checking and found out this manager was relatively new (had only been there about 6 months) and the other cashiers had been here before him. Only new cashiers were being accused of stealing. And that location had been having “stealing problems” for about 6 months and the turnover was high with the new employees.
I came to work at 6am on a Monday only to be told I was being fired. For cause. The manager accused me of taking $500 out of my drawer the previous Friday. He said he only discovered it this morning (even though he had worked Sat and Sun). I said ok and left. I was pretty angry and instead of going home, I parked in the grocery store parking lot and proceed to settle in to watch the gas station. I knew that at 9am sharp, he would take the cash in the safe and make the weekend deposit. At 9am he left the gas station and headed to the bank. But instead of walking into the bank, he walked into the Indian “casino” next door. It’s not really a casino like we think of today, but more of a betting parlor for the races. It did have slot machines, but no card tables.
I think “Well, this is interesting”.
He comes out of the casino at exactly 10 am, walks next door to the bank, does his business and then heads back to the gas station. I head home with a plan.
Every morning I follow him from the gas station to the casino. I take a picture of him leaving, and one of him arriving at the bank and walking into the casino. I take pictures of him coming out and then heading to the bank. I do this for 5 days straight. He even went on Saturday. On day 3 my old manager was fired for “stealing” $150.
I get the film developed (no digital camera in the dark ages) note the times and dates on the back of each one. Then I call the main office of the gas company. It’s after 5 but I’m hoping someone is there. And there is. I speak to a woman and explain my situation and she says she knows exactly who I should speak to and transfers me. By some grace of God, she has transferred me to none other than the President/CEO of the company!
I tell him my story and tell him I did NOT steal from his company and could prove who actually did. He took down my information and said he would be in touch. I’m thinking to myself “yeah right”. The next morning I went to the station to perform my usual observation of the manager. At 9am he leaves for the “bank”. At 10 am he comes out. At that moment 2 stern looking gentlemen approach him. One pulls out his wallet and shows him something. The other one is talking. The manager goes pale and takes a step back. Next thing I know he is being escorted to a car I hadn’t noticed and they drive off. I lose them at a traffic signal so I head back to the station. They all show back up about 5 min later, and a few minutes after that a police cruiser pulls in. The officer talks to the stern gentleman and proceeds to place the manager in handcuffs. The other man says nothing but is glaring daggers at the manager.
The President called me later that after noon and informed me that the manager had been arrested for embezzlement (turns out that in 6 months he had managed to steal about $5k). He would take the store cash into the casino and gamble with it; if he won, he would make the normal bank deposit. If he lost, he would make the deposit and note in his records that we had been short the previous day. The CEO had already been focusing on that location because of the stealing and high turnover rate, but my information helped them figure out what exactly had been going on.
I was thanked and sent a substantial check as a reward. My old manager was offered the manager’s job and I was offered my old job back. I declined as I had already found another job that I liked more and paid better. The gambling manager was sentenced to 1 year in jail and ordered to attend counseling for his gambling addiction. His wife divorced him and took their 3 children to California. His house was foreclosed on and he ended up in a homeless shelter.
Don’t accuse me of stealing. I will get revenge.
** UPDATE**
Thank you for the likes and awards!
Update 2: this was my first post and I really didn’t expect all the awards. Thank you!

Ok, so there's a lot on my mind here and I'll try to break it down as clearly as possible. (Also I'm sorry if any of this has been mentioned before and I haven't seen it). As psychotic as it sounds, I think it would be really cool to have your Paralives be really influenced by money. Money is a HUGE factor in real life, so I think it should be a major point in a life simulation game. Some of these ideas might be lame or too intricate for some players, but I think they'd be SO COOL if they were included. (Maybe there could be setting options to turn some of these on/off too)
Starting Funds What if each family started out with a DIFFERENT starting fund? In The Sims, it's kind of based on how many people are in the family, but every family is pretty much the same. What if there were some questions you could answer in the create-a-family section that determines how much money you start out with? Like whether the parents already have college degrees/stable careers, if they have debt, if they have other things that would influence their monthly payments, etc. So maybe there could be a way to start out with a certain NET WORTH rather than a set amount of funds. Maybe your family was born rich, or born poor, or just middle of the road.
Emergencies It's a life simulation game. Emergencies happen! Maybe there could be car accidents, little Timmy fell off the jungle gym and broke his arm, Mom got food poisoning from the evil Karen at the parent/teacher conference, Grandpa had a heart attack. There could be a popup that gives you the option to go to the hospital, the doctor, an urgent care, or just deal with it at home. Each option would result in a different bill you receive and have to pay. And depending on the severity of the emergency, it could go really well...or really bad for your Para. (But I think you could also have the option to change your mind if you wanted to go to the hospital rather than sleeping it off.)
Maybe every action could have a behind-the-scenes percentage of whether or not an accident could happen with it or not. (Similar to if your Sim catches food on fire, or if your Sim gets pregnant after trying for a baby, etc.)
You could also choose a home birth or a hospital delivery, depending on if you want the bill or not.
Health Insurance
You could choose whether or not to have health insurance. You could choose whether you want to have a percentage taken out of your paycheck for it or not. If you want all of your family members covered on the plan and what types of things would be covered on your plan (health, vision, dental, etc.) and depending on the plan and how much percentage is taken out of your check, this could have a direct impact on the amount of the bill you receive (maybe you only pay 20%, or maybe it's fully covered, etc.).
I do realize this is a very American thing, so I get it if it doesn't go over very well in other countries and wouldn't be included lol. Maybe there could be a settings feature to turn this off or on?
Weddings/Marriage/Divorce Depending on the size of your wedding, you could end up with a huge bill, or make a profit! You could set a budget for your wedding and each little factor could change the total cost of the wedding. You could do it DIY and make specific changes to everything. In real life, there are also wedding venues (or wedding planners) that take care of everything and just tell you the total price. Both of these options could be good for players who want total control over the details or just have it done for them. Then, depending on the number of guests (or how rich/poor the guests are), they could give you really NICE gifts/cash or not-so-great gifts/no cash. Maybe you could also opt to have a giftless wedding or a cash-only wedding.
You could also marry a rich Para and get rich quickly that way. Or you could marry a poor Sim and acquire their debts, bringing down your net worth.
You could also have a very nice and clean divorce or an ugly one that requires lawyers. Depending on how the divorce goes, (maybe one Para wants the divorce and the other doesn't??) you may have to spend more on a lawyer, or they could both agree and it could be free of cost.
Child Support/Alimony In continuation of the divorce bit... If you have assets together, you may need to hire a lawyer to mitigate alimony and/or child support. Depending on the assets/children/etc., you may have to pay the other Para a certain amount, you may receive payments, or it may be an even split and neither party owes anything. There could also be an option to go lawyer-less and just work it out with the other Para (if they are willing, of course...)
Lotteries/Casinos I know in The Sims, there's Lottery Day (I think it comes with Seasons?) where you can buy a lottery ticket for $100 and you may or may not win. I think this could be fun if it were an option all the time! And there could be different types of lotteries you could win and different types of prizes. Maybe some tickets could be a MILLION dollars and you have a 1% chance of winning. Maybe it's a scratch-off ticket that you could win $10,000 on and you have a 4% chance of winning. Maybe it's a car, movie tickets, etc. It doesn't just have to be cash. This could be demonstrated as a popup, or they could go to a gas station to buy tickets.
There could also be casinos you could go to and have the same types of winning chances. Just a thought there :)
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Addictions? This could be triggering, so maybe there could be a settings option to turn this off or on. Not necessarily drug or alcohol addictions (although, maybe there could be references, kind of like how The Sims uses juice to represent alcohol, etc.), but maybe there could be things that the Paras can get addicted to and they could either indulge in their addictions or spend money to get help for it. It could be things like the aforementioned lottery tickets/casinos, maybe addicted to a certain type of food (grilled cheese aspiration anyone??), maybe they have a video game addiction, etc.
To bring this point back to money - some addictions may cost more than others. Like if they ONLY like the highest priced food items, or they're spending a lot on lottery tickets, etc. They could go to rehab to cure them of their addictions.
​
Utilities You could choose different companies to go through for your different utilities and choose whether you want them or not. Power, Water, Sewer, Trash, Internet, Phone, etc. Maybe some companies bundle plans together and you get a discount. And depending on the company, you may have really good service or really bad service. You could choose to move between phone companies/internet companies, etc. And maybe you don't want cable TV because you just want to stream TVs and movies from the internet, so you could choose what access you have. Maybe some of the companies require a deposit if they're highly rated or something of that nature.
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Credit Cards, Loans, Mortgages, and Other Debts Personally, I don't like being tied to what's only in my Sim's bank. I think it could be cool to have credit cards, loans, etc. If there's a pre-built house that you REALLY want your Sims to have, you could take out a mortgage and you could have monthly payments. You could also take out a loan if you're renovating a certain room in your house or need help to cover other debts. You could also do credit cards if you don't want to take out a full loan, etc.
This could be a fun opportunity to bring back the repo-man. Your Paras could also have a credit score, so if you pay your bills on time and aren't super deep in other debts, you have the chance to have a higher loan/mortgage/credit limit. And if you don't pay for it, you could get things taken away.
Bankruptcy In continuation of the last point, if your Paras are too deep in the debt and can't seem to get out of it, they could file bankruptcy. They'd have to pay for a lawyer to clear their records.
There could also be a setting to turn credit on/off, as I could see how credit could be an annoying feature for some players.
Different Bank Accounts for Each Family Member You could have a bank account for each family member or have everything bundled into one. Your kids could have a piggy bank or your teenager could have a part-time job. It would be nice to keep things separated (or all put together) if you want one person in the family to be working towards a certain goal. (Teenager wants a car, the boyfriend is saving up for a ring for the girlfriend, etc.)
You could also get a savings account(s) and dedicate each account towards something. Future house goals, wedding, vacation, emergency funds, etc.
Maybe stocks/investments could be a part of that too?
House Issues/Value In continuation of emergencies, there could be different house problems that come up. Some things could be small and easily fixable by your Para people, like a broken TV/computer (you could either replace it, fix it yourself, or pay someone to fix it like you can do in the Sims) but maybe there are some other house emergencies that could happen. A tree falls on the roof and you have to pay to get that fixed, a burglar busts down your front door or breaks a window, a pipe burst, and your entire basement gets flooded, etc.
You could still choose the same things, like replace it, pay someone to fix it or fix it yourself. If you fix it yourself and you're not handy, it may make it worse, better, or it could just happen again.
Depending on the severity of the issue and/or the fix of the issue, it could affect the overall value of the house. You could choose to ignore the giant hole in the roof, but if you ever want to sell the house, you're not going to get as much money as a house with a brand new roof.
Over time, parts of your house could start to decay (like roofs, floors, walls, etc.) and they may need updated after a certain amount of time. This could be dependent on factors like the quality of the item you used in the first place. Cheap roofs would need to be replaced sooner than a really high-quality roof, etc. Heavy-traffic rooms may need the carpet replaced, there could be stains, marks, etc. that gradually build up over time.
Selling a House In continuation to the last note above, you could choose to sell your house and have it be put on the market. You could have a few options with this, which depending on the type of player you are, could be very beneficial.
One option could be to just sell it as is. You may not get as much money for it, but you could just instantly sell the house to someone who buys up houses (Like an Ug buys Ugly Houses type of person). This could be a good feature for a player that just wants their Sim to move. You could also sell by owner or go through an agency. If you sell by owner, you may get lower offers on the house from different buyers. If you go through an agency, you may get higher bids, but you would also have to pay certain closing costs, etc.
You could also have an appraiser-like person come to your house before you decide to sell and let you know what things you could change that would improve the overall value of your house and what things are already really good. (You should replace the carpet, replace the windows, doors, etc.)
Once you're ready to sell, there could be a list of 3 or 4 families who want to buy your house with different offers (maybe they could also have contingencies, like I'll pay you what you're asking if you change the carpet, etc.) and you could pick which one you want to do. If there are contingencies, it could be based on what the appraiser noted if you didn't make the changes they mentioned.
Become a landlord or a flipper Maybe instead of selling the house, you just want people to pay you directly month by month. You could set your house (or maybe even just a room/part of your house) for rent and have a list of people who want to live there that you could choose from. They could each have things about them that could make them a good or a bad tenant. For example, maybe they're VERY accident-prone and things break very easily. You may or may not want this type of tenant. Or maybe they're really clean people (which could be nice) but they are very picky and may be calling you to fix things all the time. You could be a good landlord and go take care of your tenants, or you could be a bad landlord and ignore them, which they'd eventually stop paying and leave. You could also choose to kick the tenants out if you want new tenants or if you just want to sell it instead of renting it out anymore.
You could also just buy up bad houses, improve/flip the houses, then sell them/rent them out for profit!
Buying or renting a house Opposite of selling a house, you could also go through a process for buying or renting a house. You could have the option to just buy a house as-is (good for players who just want to get to the point). Or you could go through an agent/realtor who can help you find the perfect house for what you're looking for. You could enter details like the number of bedrooms, bathrooms, price point, etc., and they could give you a list of houses. Some of them may be in great shape or some could be in not-so-great shape. You could choose to place an offer on the house or you could choose to set contingencies. If you go through the realtor, they could also give you insights on whether the seller is willing to sell for lower than asking-price or not, willing to work with contingencies, etc.
Ok, those are my ideas 😂😂 This ended up being way longer than I thought, but I think these would be cool ideas.

I was asked to make a post about some stories within the Casino grounds so I thought I'd share. I have many so I'll do my best to pick the better ones.
Some back information: I've been a Casino Dealer for 11 years, I've been a supervisor for five years, and I've been a Surveillance Operator for one year. I've worked at three properties, none of which are connected or owned by the same company. I've worked on : Government/Private/Native American owned casinos.

1. From Hero to Zero.

At my first Casino, I was one of the first group of people who were trained to deal Roulette . After 4 weeks of working 6PM-3AM then doing roulette training from 3AM-8AM (Not paid) , I actually really enjoyed the game and after about six months I became extremely quick at the number game and the pace of the action was steady with very low margin of errors. Young man walks in, cashes in for $500. He buys in for $2 chips and just loads the board. After a few spins and pretty decent hits, he then changes his chips from $2 to 5$ then to $10 and racks his winnings up to $10,000. It was then, five spins in a row, he loaded the board with some pretty gross bets, and every spin I would hit the ONE number with either NO CHIPS on it, or maybe 1 chip , He lost all $10,000 in a matter of minutes. He leaves , and I go on break. After my break I was going back to the same table and wouldn't you know it, the same young man walks in and cashes in another $500. He tells me he just sold his car outside and this is all that he had left. So we do the same deal, buys in for $2 chips, then slowly starts betting $5 chips, $10, $25...and he makes $10,000 AGAIN. Within the next 25 minutes it was straight agony. Every spin, same thing, he would bet $2500 in chips, and win only $250, $400, and after about a half hour he lost it all . Never saw the guy again.
2) Man down
At this property, we are 24 hours for table games. It's currently 5AM , and I'm dealing some $25 Blackjack to this guy. He's probably early thirties , heavy guy. He's sober as can be, but right away I can tell he's been losing. We know how much you've bought in for, how much your down, or up, and I could see he was down $2000+. After about twenty minutes of pure losing, his temper starts to flare.At this point I now have two other guests at my table. Drinking coffee, not saying a word, just losing their money. After losing hand, after hand, this guy looks me straight in the eye, seized up, starts shaking, he can't move. He tries to punch towards me and smashes his stack of chips all over the place and falls backwards to the floor. I call for security, we cannot touch him due to liability . I can't move from my table because, well, liability / casino cash property, all I can do is try to talk to him. As I'm doing so, these other two woman who are sitting at my table just look at me and one says "OK, dealer, cmon lets go " as she taps the table telling me to start dealing and forget about the guy having a stroke on the floor. As security takes him to the ambulance out front, I had to stay behind for a couple minutes and give a statement. I go on break. I come back, and 45 minutes later, he comes right back in with a oxygen tank and keeps gambling for the remainder of the morning.
3) You get a dildo, and YOU get a dildo!
On a late summer Saturday night, we had a large event for these massive muscle guys/strongman competition type thing. After their show, I'm at the roulette table , and five of these boys come over to play. They were absolutely hilarious. They were feeling pretty good, cashed in somewhat large amounts and I could tell this was going to be a fun time. After about a hour of dealing to these guys, it's almost midnight, everybody is pretty hammered , I spin the ball, and all five of these guys take out these god damn (what I can only tell was) two feet purple dildos from inside their pants, and wiping them around in the air. The ladies were just loving it, one of the dildos landed in the roulette wheel and we had to shut the table down to re-calibrate the wheel to make sure nothing had been changed. I just remember that night was so much damn fun, I couldn't believe what I was seeing and I would never forget it.
4) Full Moon
On this day, I was actually training dealers / supervising them on small games like Three Card poker. We opened the table at 10AM, and this older man came and sat down . He played all day. The jackpot was $21,000 and that was pretty high for this table. He played, and played and played. He's one of the players where you know he's wearing a diaper because he's been drinking coffee/pop all day and hasn't moved in eight hours. As the day went on, this man never moved from his chair. Getting closer to midnight, he was aggravated and said "I need to go have a smoke, I'm getting killed in here". He left, and the very next hand, the lady beside him was dealt the jackpot . He didn't say much, but you could just tell he just hated life at that very moment because had he not gotten up, it would of been his hand. The man calmly took his cane , his hat, jacket, coffee, and left. The next morning I found out when he did leave he drove his car straight through his bank and was arrested.
5) Slick Robber
I actually give props to people who can actually pull this off. This story may confuse you so I'll try and explain things as best as possible. A lot of casinos have machines as soon as you walk through the front doors. A man walks up to one of these machines and sticks in HIS $100 bill. He doesn't gamble it, instead he hits the cash out button and gets a $100 TITO ticket where he then takes the ticket to the ATM machine to get his $100. Now remember, his Original $100 is in the slot machine. He then takes the $100 from the ATM and goes back to the same machine, and repeats this process over a hundred times. Essentially he's taking money from the ATM, and loading up the Slot Machine . Now he knows he can't do it too much because if the slot machine gets full of money, the machine will shut down and the slow attendant will have to take all the cash out. So he deposits over $10,000 , then has a small crowbar, he cracks the machine open and makes a run out the front door. To my knowledge he was never caught . But damn, that was pretty smart .
EDIT:
6) Mental Health is a thing.
10PM man walks in to play some high limit BlackJack. This guy knows the game and played well. Dressed nice, drank juice/tea , a little bit of a attitude, cashed in over $10,000. When this man was half way down his buy in, he said something a long the lines of "If I don't win here tonight, I'm going to go set myself on fire." I wasn't sure if he was serious because when people are down, they tend to say a lot of nonsense. I actually left early that night, and from a third party was told he did exactly that in the parking lot. The next day it was clear something terrible had gone wrong in the parking lot .
EDIT:
7) Nothing good happens after midnight
After a busy Saturday night, I was dealing a mix of games, and during this story I was in the middle of Blackjack. I had one young kid (probably 19) sitting in the middle, one older male probably in his later 40's sitting beside him on his right, and I had a really nice couple in their 20's sitting together at the other side. This young kid wasn't playing just sort of watching, and ever time the old man won he would give this young guy some of his winnings. The older man, was a wine drinker, and he had black between all of his teeth, I'll never forget. He's a little drunk but nothing terrible. As the night goes on, the older man goes and uses the washroom, at which point the couple asked the young guy "Oh was that your dad?" and the young guy says "Hah, no I wish!". The couple and I just looked at each other. This old guy, was in complete control over this kid. Absolutely disgusting. The night ends, and I find out the couple called a few of their friends, and they all waited outside by this old mans truck and beat the living hell out of him. 40 years old, sleeping with a 19 year old, completely brain washed . Very weird.
8) That one co-worker where you just wish they would quit.
One of our co-workers, nice guy but had a very big ego and we as employees just sorta left him alone. One day he had enough of the atmosphere and quit. Now usually when you quit, you cannot come back until you paperwork is finalized. How ever, HR was in that day, and he was given the paperwork the very next day. He came in, cashed in $1000, and made $50,000 in about a hour at the Baccarat table. My manager, was extremely annoyed, because now this guy is just mocking the casino and having the time of his life (Thanks for the big tip by the way :) ) and so he decides to call it quits. He wants to ban himself and he wants $50,000 in cash. The casino says Nope, we are going to give you a cheque. Now here's the thing, most business people will take the cheque, how ever you CANT CASH the cheque until the following monday because it's on that day where the funds are available. The casino on the other hand will cash their own check in anytime , because they want you to play. So this guy pretty much said go to hell I want my cash, and he called the police. Police show up, and management promptly gave him the cash.I though it was absolutely hilarious .
​
9) No good deed goes un punished
I was dealing Three Card Poker, and the jackpot was around $17,000. This old man (a regular) was sitting there all day grinding it out. Super nice guy, always a pleasure to deal to. Well, after hours of playing, he stands up and says "Hey john!, can you come here for a minute?" so his buddy John comes over. He says to John "I need to go take a piss real quick, can you play my card until I get back?" John agrees . John takes the chips and I stop him and explain he can't play his friends chips, he needs to cash in and play his own. And he does. Welp, second hand out and bam, doesn't he win it. The old man comes back and is so happy, he can't believe it. John, took his $17,000, didn't say a word to his "buddy" and walked away. I never felt so much hatred in all my life. Didn't give him a dollar, not a thank you, nothing. The old man sits back down again, the progressive resets to $2500, and he sat there grinding away again.
10) The Top Knot
I had this player , young guy, who was born into a fortune. One of his relatives passed away and left him a pretty big sizable amount of money, so he played poker every single day for the rest of his days. I will add, he IS a good player. I did not enjoy his company just because of the "Know-it-All" attitude, but he was good. We'll call him John. John is 5'10, and well build, with muscle. John also decided today was the day to show off his Top Knot. (google top knot if you're not sure what I mean) So he sits down, and he's absolutely KILLING the table. Every hand, after hand, after hand. And because he's in such a good mood, he's playing any two cards, calling any $500 bet, and he's just dominating. This one guy at the table decided he had enough. He got up, without saying a word and left. A moment later, he comes back in, walks behind John, and takes a pair of scissors , and cuts off his Top Knot. I for one couldn't believe it, dying laughing inside, and it just turned into one big brawl. That was a good day.
11) That one bad seed
One of my best friends who I haven't seen in YEARS ended up being part of the crew. Was kind of nice to catch up. We never really got along as we grew up because he has a very high picture of himself . He wanted that 10/10 woman. A mansion, and a new Corvette. So every month or so we would all go up to the other casino to play. I myself would bring no more than $500, but I couldn't understand how this guy (we'll call him Kyle) was spending THOUSANDS of dollars at the tables. So this wen on for a few months. Well, one day, as we're closing the casino, he and I are in the High Limit room and we're getting ready to close the tables. We are told to take the chips out, count them, put them back, sign this piece of paper and that's it. Well as the supervisor was locking the tray, the piece of paper fell to the floor, so she asked Kyle to grab the piece of paper. As he bends over, a great big $500 chip falls right out of his sock. Kyle was fired immediately , but it all made sense. They offered Kyle a deal where if he replaced all the stolen chips they would not make it public. Not sure how that turned out.
12) If I ever decide to write a book, this will be the last chapter: <3
After working at my first Casino for five years, I met a Indian woman who was visiting from another part of the country. During this time I was explaining a game to her, which honestly I don't think she even cared. She explained she was visiting and sight seeing , and that was that.Well, two years later I ended up moving to the other side of the country and transferred casinos, and low and behold she worked there as a Dealer. We got married , and it's been 5 years.
13) The Tip
One of our tables that we've had for a couple years had a progressive jackpot that had reached $100,000. The dealer at the table was sitting pretty lonely. Nobody really played the game because people knew it was extremely difficult to win the jackpot. My memory is a tad foggy, but you somehow needed to flop the royal flush. This young guy sits down and says to the dealer, we'll call him John. "John, if you pay me that jackpot, I will tip you $10,000" Well John started dealing, and about a half hour into his shift, he F*cking did it. He dealt him the royal. And you know something?This young lad, kept his word, and he made sure there was a audience, and he tipped exactly $10,000. That was a moment right there. That pay cheque was real nice. I think we all got about $500 more than usual. The moment that jackpot was awarded they got rid of the table because the money it was making was not near what the casino wanted. I'm sure there have been bigger tips at other casinos, but that was something special .
14) The Lawsuit
Now this story I'm going to have to beat around the bush a bit due to the nature of what happened. I can't won't answer any questions that you may have on this topic other than what I have to say because it had a lot of publicity . The waitresses at this casino had to wear very thin sexy clothes. Not borderline legal, but it was noticed. One day they called all the waitresses to come in and explained they were changing their outfit to something even more sexier. Now these new dresses were very very borderline legal . The staff said No way. We're not wearing that.So , friday night comes, and the staff work their whole shift, then at the end of their shift were called into a meeting and were all fired. Welp, one of those ladies father was a pretty big time lawyer. Brough the casino to court and won. They won big. Good for them. We had no waitresses for a couple days haha.
Thanks for reading along, I have many more I can add as the day goes on, those were just some off the top of my head. Feel free to ask any questions of the Casino industry. I don't really have many stories about the surveillance department because that's the one area where I can't really say a whole lot due to its privacy and contracts I was and still am under.

I showed one of my friends a online casino (planet 7) and he won 1600.00 off a no deposit bonus on his very first online casino 😂🙄 Now he is trying to cash out and they don’t have the greatest reviews as far as cash out times go so I’m just trying to make sure we make this go as smoothly as possible so this doesn’t potentially take months to cash out.. assuming they pay at all 😂
His bank is saying that international checks have a 40 day hold and the casino is saying the check is void after 30 days. I don’t really feel comfortable telling him to use his bank info for direct deposit from the casino because he uses that bank account for direct deposit from his job and everything else. The casino won’t tell him which banks are more lenient with international deposits so I wouldn’t even know where to start with him just opening a new bank account.
I told him to order skrill card because it was always my understanding that skrill was used for online gambling but now I’m hearing they close USA accounts if they have suspicion of online gambling. I’ve tried Bitcoin in the past (coin base and blockchain) and apparently I’m an idiot cuz I’ve never had any luck figuring it out. Not opposed to trying Bitcoin again but it’s all kind of overwhelming when you don’t know what the hell you are doing.
Can anyone with experience with different cash out methods offer a little advice?

RR link
Previous chapter (RETRO COSMOS)
​ #2 - THE TWISTED HEIST ​
A star had just gone out in the distance, sending its entire system, planets and moons, into oblivion. So, what was a simple life compared to a sun? Did the human existence that earthlings highly cherished in the past deserve so much fuss?
I would say no, of course, because I’m a cat. Our condition to us felines will never have to pale in front of a shiny astronomical object. Mine specifically, don’t you think?
Oswald Avery was merely a Homo sapiens. A retired buccaneer, fermenting his adulterated wine on the carcass of a drifting supercargo; all under the remodeled features of a former Galactic Trade Company’s pilot. Alas, regardless of the genetic disguise, the FID rarely lied. It hadn’t fooled us and the masks had fallen off. Just like him.
I’m such a poet.
Anyway… Avery had had a long life of crimes and adventures. He was full of energy in his youth. And as in the universe, nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed, this energy was reincarnated in a nice amount in our bank account once the old picaroon flatlined.
“We finally got it! And it was a traditional Martian contract. Payable remotely, on condition that the FID is validated. How about that?”
“God… Lee … you’re talking to yourself and it’s only 8 a.m.,” Ali grunted behind me.
My couch potato of an associate had her head still stuck in the cereal box she was nibbling before falling asleep binge-watching Captain Caveman on ABC.
“To begin with, it’s 8 p.m., Martian Time. And we do have a positive balance in our bank account for the first time in months! Do you know what that means, partner?”
“Shopping, bitches!” she shouted as she hurled herself into the void, gliding to the bathroom in the weightlessness.
With the cardboard box on the top of her head, this sugar bishop was swimming after the remnant cereals that floated on her path like Ms. Pac-Man.
“Hell! Have I just opened Pandora’s box?”
The liner Danaë and its forty-eight post-nuclear Baltimore-XVIII heavy reactors made its annual cruise from Lunapolis to the suburbs of Ceres, in the belt. Its figurehead with the effigy of the Greek princess was a two hundred meters long, green ceramic statue. The size of the ship exceeded some inhabited asteroids’ diameter so it possessed its own substantial gravitational field.
“It’s quite a symbol of the decline of humanity,” I said to Ali, pointing with my chin at this unique work of art.
“Why?” my partner asked without caring whatsoever. “Spill the beans, Plato.”
The Kitty had obtained permission to dock and began its approach. I concluded then:
“Humanity no longer erects great and beautiful things without turning them into a shopping mall.”
The gold and ivory Danaë was one of the most luxurious epicenters of human decadence in the system; comprising hotels, casinos, megastores and amusement parks spread over a dozen centrifugal rings. There was something for everyone’s wallet, ready to be emptied, whether one was welcomed at the port or had joined during the crossing.
And to my great regret, the cape of the Danaë was just passing by us that week.
“I believe we should keep our savings for the maintenance of the Swallow. The dashboard lights up like a Christmas tree. Some parts need to be changed…”
“You’re such a bore with your adult talks,” my partner said as she left the fitting room of a luxury chain overlooking the main deck. “What do you think of that? Sexy as fuck, right?”
Her camisole didn’t hide a single inch square of flesh and I subtly pointed it out to her:
“It’s a bit of a back-alley Sally.”
I took a blow on the nose which, this time, was amply justified.
“There’s nothing chicer than Borderline. You don’t know anything about fashion. It’s crazy!”
She was furious. It was entertaining. But she was right. The human female fads were way over my head and I wasn’t a good adviser. Mostly because I didn’t care. At all.
Fortunately, the upscale shopping mall where we were staying had provided us with a free assistant who was even more servile than a decerebrate canine. As usual, the robot carrier that accompanied us did the job by flattering her with its unbearable honeyed tone:
“I find you charming, Madame. Here we have the latest fashionable lingerie on Mars. It’s an ephemeral collection that appears to have been specially made to mold your discreet curves, which seem to have been sculpted by the seraphim.”
Ali gave me a satisfied look that I pretended to ignore. Then she backtracked into the fitting room to put her black suit and pink jacket back on.
I took the opportunity to climb on the shoulders of this silly robot, servant of our servants and last link in this hierarchy whose origins go back to Ancient Egypt.
“One more move like this and I’ll turn you into a gum dispenser.”
The automaton apologized before my partner’s head emerged from behind the silk curtains which were far too fragrant for my taste.
“I just checked; it’s too expensive anyway. I ain’t buying it,” she announced. “Can you order a taxicab to take us to the hotels’ ring? You’d be a sweetheart.”
Happy to leave this irascible human with her robotic slave, I proceeded to the nearest service terminal. By the time I requested a vehicle, a flying cigarette dispenser could light me a Lucky.
“It’s forbidden to smoke in our store, Monsieur.”
The customer attaché, in his blue silk suit with elephant legs, had appeared out of nowhere. Yet, with such a shiny tie, this punk should have dazzled me from the Kuiper belt.
“Please be kind and get me a Pepper Coke instead of ruining my eyesight…” I grumbled in response.
I was in an awful mood. I definitely hated shopping. And people. Yet the pedestrian avenues of the Danaë had a very exceptional population density. Perms were making a strong comeback, as were neon tattoos and overly open flowered shirts. Under the false UVA/B sun, it was a true dance of flesh, steel and plastic bodies with assumed nudity. Implants and surgery erased the hazards of the genetic lottery for better or worse. It was so superficial. So futile. So human.
“Hello, handsome!” Ali cried out, a large smile across her face. “Lee? You didn’t tell me you knew Christophe Lambert! You know I'm a huge Highlander fan!”
My partner had just joined me, arms loaded with bags massive enough to live in it, start a family and park my chromic Pontiac Firebird. All were filled with C$400 t-shirts and sneakers that she didn’t need and would only put on once.
“No smell. Hologram,” I conclude by throwing my cigarette butt through the smiling ghost.
“Shame!” Ali sighed.
She then looked at her terminal, and continued:
“Do you think I have time to grab a watch module? There are sales in the Japanese aisle! I saw some GD-8 that would go well with my new Game Pocket! This boat is fucking rad!”
Ali could not stop humming Who wants to live forever. I had to rub my temples to avoid a migraine before the arrival of our taxicab five minutes later.
These were miniature limousines with double fake leather benches, facing each other at the back. There was a minibar with expensive multicolored drinks and sugar-soaked snacks, the sapiens’ primary source of calories and high Gs space travel drug. For the sensitive, the smart-fridge provided diet sodas with aspartame, but no one took it. Finally, there were free Gauloise cigarettes next to the ashtray on the armrest. And even Tylenol!
“What a time to be alive!”
Right after leaving the fashion district, a soft voice of a young woman, who appeared to us through the armored porthole separating her from her customers, finally emerged from the cockpit:
“Good evening! I’m Miss Meera. At your service. Hotel de Saint-Malo, correct?”
I nodded. She smiled at us. She was beautiful with her incredibly dark night metal skin that contrasted strongly with her silvery-white hair. She also had charming ivory eyes with absolutely no reflection. They were a mesmerizing void of light.
In fact, it was so rare to deal with a real person, and not an AI, that we engaged rapidly in a lovely and honest discussion with Meera. We were mostly talking about life on the Danaë. As she stated, the rules on board were very strict, even military. All was done to make sure that the customer had the most pleasant time at the expense of everything else. Finally, according to her, her condition wasn’t the most to be pitied in the cosmos. And she was fully satisfied with this precarious semi-nomadic existence.
“And what about you? Are you here on vacation or in transit for work?” she eventually asked. “What do you do for a living?”
Should we have told her that we were executing infamous people so Ali would collect expensive t-shirts and I could fulfill my nicotine addiction?
“Don’t get me wrong but I saw that you had a gun. Are you in the police… or are you pirates?”
It wasn’t the first time someone asked us this question. Although weapons were allowed on most ships and stations, it wasn’t wise to display them unless you were looking for trouble. Unfortunately, hiding such a large caliber under such a tight vest was a Herculean task.
“You can get much farther with a kind word and a gun than you can with a kind word alone”, simply quoted Ali, her forehead against the window covered with scented stickers.
Meera laughed before continuing:
“Very well, Al Capone. I understand that you’re not the type to let yourself be taken advantage of.”
The taxicab entered the central expressway after the water park then suddenly swerved violently to the left.
“What is going on?” I gasped.
After crushing the safety railing, we fell from one rotating bridge to the other in a frantic cavalcade. Judging by Meera’s swear words, this ride wasn’t part of the show.
Avoiding the stalls of an art market and a group of children coming out of an arcade, the driver finally managed to recover in extremis. It was about time, because within seconds we were passing through the transparent protective wall of the hotels’ deck.
“A thousand apologies! Another one of those mor… clients from the Middle System who doesn’t know how to use a rental car,” she shouted through the window. “Are you guys hurt?”
“No, thanks to you,” I replied, my tail spiked over my head, taped to Ali’s neck now decorated with bloody scratches.
Although my human forehead now had a bump on it the size of a golf ball, it was true that Meera had just saved our lives. This young girl had unsuspected driving talents despite taxicabs’ lack of handling. She didn’t belong here, playing the steward in a yellow circus uniform. This woman should have been a fighter pilot; or a NASCAR driver on Canyon Creek.
“In any case, here you’re almost in front of your hotel,” she replied. “You don’t have to pay anything, and I apologize again for the scare.”
From the outside, the taxicab now looked like a can of nutrigel after going through a crusher. Yet, it still worked. May God Darwin bless Venusian steel.
After thanking her, we wished Meera a good day. But the cockpit window suddenly went down on the passenger side. The smile of the driver had faded. She had tears at the corner of her white eyes.
“Wait!” she asked. “This weapon… do you really know how to use it?”
So, life on the Danaë wasn’t so sweet. As Meera explained to us in a secluded alleyway, a trio of criminals had come to threaten her a few days earlier, after finding she was a bodacious driver. They were preparing a heist in one of the flying city’s fifty casinos. The young woman was now ready to pay the price to settle the case.
“What is your opinion about this whole situation?” I asked Ali, once in our room, a small yet cozy suite whose glass walls overlooked the vacuum of space.
My human had applied a brownish ointment on her hump, which disappeared soon after, leaving only a slight pinkish hematoma.
“Meera said she would provide us with more details tomorrow. However, if she ponies up the cash, I don’t see why we would refuse. We ain’t mercs but these three guys must have a bounty on their heads. Let’s do our job, right?
“Indeed…”
All we had to do was wait for more instructions. Fortunately, it had been months since we had been able to take days off except on miserable gas stations full of drug addicts, implants scavengers and prostitutes.
After another morning of shopping, Ali went to the thalassotherapy center of the neighboring hotel. Her main occupation? Overeating sushi made by 3D nutrigel printing while getting massages.
Alas, I didn’t have the time to bask under the false sun of the lakeside resort and get my belly stroked. As a good captain, I had to go to the maintenance to fix the numerous damages of the Kitty. As always, the bill would be higher than expected.
Everything was orchestrated so that we would never hold a positive balance in this corrupted system. We had to chain contract after contract.
But Meera’s gig didn’t sound right. There was something I didn’t like and I couldn’t catch it yet. All my cat sensors were in the red. Unfortunately, the bounty hunter’s ones only saw the green of the bills.
Don’t judge me.
The young taxicab driver had finally contacted Ali again by holoconference in the early afternoon, shortly before I joined her at the exit of the tanning booths. Or as I called them: human toasters.
“Have you finished roasting like a Thanksgiving turkey?” I asked her as she plunged into the icy water of the adjacent basin, under the lustful gaze of a group of cadets from the Marine Academy.
“Meera will pick us up with a new taxicab in the hotel parking lot,” she whispered once back to me. “Alongside her, we will meet two of the criminals at the burglary location, shortly before midnight.”
“Go on.”
“We take care of these guys and we catch up with the last one: the band leader, in the storage cavities of the hangar reserved for the ship’s logistics. Below the last rotating ring.”
In Eve’s costume, Ali came out of the basin, not without deliberately drenching me. The water had a nasty chemical taste from being filtered day after day.
“Do you have any intelligence on these jokers?” I insisted while lighting a cigarette.
“The Broadway Gang. Three brothers. C$45,000 for the trio. We will also be able to recover at least C$10,000 of Techno-federal tax on their ship depending on its condition. Easy cash with the dollar credits that Meera promises us…”
Now sitting on the ledge, my partner splashed her feet to demonstrate her eagerness to head back swimming.
“Excellent! This will pay for the maintenance and allow us to save some money on our way to the belt.”
“Can I go now?” she asked, sliding back into the water.
“You may,” I had concluded before seeing her leave for her absurd wanderings that would fill her afternoon.
I myself was very busy making eyes at the wealthy guests of the hotel restaurant to glean a few pieces of Peking duck or juicy crabs. They were real farm animals from Mars. Not nutrigel. It was worth abandoning a little dignity aside.
With a full belly, I finally joined Ali in the middle of the evening. Arriving in the corridor of our suite, I crossed the group of cadets noticed near the swimming pool. They seemed tired but blissfully smiling as they just discovered the nirvana. And I knew why…
“Ali? Are you ready?” I said as I walked through the half-open bedroom door.
Her dressing gown had been thrown on the floor. Her gun and badge were resting on the bedside table against a giant bottle of Koala Springs soda and a pyramid of little Yoyo Mints.
To be honest, I expected a bigger mess.
“Gimme five minutes,” she replied while in the shower.
An hour later, we met Meera in the staff parking lot behind the recycling stations. Without further discussion, we joined the expressway in the taxicab. Between two noisy info-ads, the radio played Sweet Transvestite then the rest of the mythical Rocky Horror soundtrack.
“I wonder what Tim Curry’s up to these days,” asked Ali while browsing the intraweb on her implant.
“Being legendary as usual,” I answered.
Afterwards, the casino was in sight. But once on the forecourt illuminated by the gold and silver bulbs, we heard gunshots and screams. My partner and I quickly realized that this was a violent robbery rather than a modest heist.
“What the fuck, Meera?” Ali asked, turning to the porthole that separated us from the cockpit.
There was a hint of irritation in her voice.
Meera remained mute, her hands on the wheel and her gaze forward. In the rear-view mirror the young woman looked panicked.
The right door of the vehicle suddenly opened and two men sat down in front of us. They were wearing theater masks: the first was Melpomene, the sad grimace of tragedy; the second, Thalia, the twisted smile of comedy. Each brigand carried a huge metal block under his arm; drawers that were sure to be full of cash. On the other hand, they held their still smoking ZeG-4 machine guns even more firmly.
When they saw us, they both gasped, in unison:
“What the fuck, Meera?”
One… two. One… two.
Four holes in their faded tuxedo. Four bullets as big as a cat’s eye that silenced them forever, before slowly repainting the bench in red.
“What the fuck was that? You killed them!” Meera shouted this time, as she started the electric engine. “You had tasers at your disposal, you psychos!”
She had finally turned around. Her voice was quivering. She was no longer panicked, but angry.
The tasers must have slipped between the seats because I hadn’t seen them. My partner raised her eyebrows and it made me realize that their use had never been in mind.
“We’re bounty hunters, not 9 to 5 social workers!” continued Ali. “Now, you gotta motor, otherwise the cops will shoot our ass on the spot before we could even meet the third dude!”
Meera put her foot on the pedal and one could almost hear the noise of the thrusters melting the white asphalt.
“I can perceive the sirens, Ali,” I concluded before Meera entered the ring's external road reserved for logistic transport.
We then had the shortest car chase we had taken part in. The Danaë security forces may not have had the best elements in the system, but Meera’s talents didn’t give them a chance. We had crossed half a dozen rotative bridges to the rhythm of Take on Me, zigzagging between expressways and maintenance tunnels to arrive before the song ended at the deserted logistics hangar.
It was similar to a huge supermarket with honeycombed shelves. Each of these garages, dimly illuminated by red LEDs, housed a delivery or transport vessel. There was the most impressive fleet I had ever seen.
In one of the first level’s cells stood, between a set of clamps, a Swift-0 scout, from Peugeot Corp, with wings spread. The Swifts were small and very high-end single-seaters. They could be modified to integrate weapons systems, but their primary characteristics were velocity and evasion.
Leaning on the flank of the mono-turbine, the last of the three criminals, a tall blond man with a “Chevy Chase” prominent chin was looking down on the approaching taxicab.
“Were they planning to escape on that ship? The three of them?” I remarked when the vehicle stopped a few meters from the small vessel.
But Meera ignored me.
“Hand me the money, I’m going out. That was the agreement.”
The porthole opened at its base, allowing us to pass the steel cash drawers. Once the taxicab’s ignition was turned off, only their holographic numbers glowed in the dark.
“It’s all over if his cronies don’t stick their noses out of the car,” Ali replied, finally giving the second drawer away. “He’s going to figure out that it went south. He will kill you!”
Outside, the man was getting impatient. Blinded by the taxicab’s headlights, he came closer before exclaiming:
“Zéphyr, are you there? Where are my brothers? Security is closing all the departure modules. We will be stuck here, for fuck’s sake!”
He now had a gun in his hand. A machine gun identical to those of his companions currently bathed in their blood, nailed to the seats.
“Zéphyr? Wait… I know that name!” I meowed to myself.
The doors and portholes of the taxicab were locked. Ali and I were now stuck in the back with the two flatlined and most wanted criminals on the ship.
“Sorry guys, but I’ll handle the rest.”
Miss Meera, alias Zéphyr, smiled at us through the armored glass just before leaving the cockpit by the driver’s door.
“What a fucking piece of shit… Lee? Do you have a plan? I think the windows are bulletproof. I don’t feel like testing. Especially if it’s bouncing around with us inside, we will be turned into ground beef!”
“Did you forget who I am, my dear?”
I was already crawling under the seat, between a pair of Méduse shoes and half nibbled fried rat wings. It was time to demonstrate all my infiltration skills learned from Ninja Gaiden. Unfortunately, both the crab and the duck slowed me down and my belly remained for a few seconds stuck under the driver’s seat with my head on the brake pedal. How outrageous!
From the porthole, I saw Ali watching what was happening in front of us, near the ship. Our eyes met for a brief moment and I could read on her lips: “diet kibble”.
“Better off dead!” I shouted.
My paw reached the bottom of the dashboard, activating the mechanical opening of doors and windows. And, accidentally, the loudest horn in this dimension.
“My bad!”
My sapiens immediately jumped outside, pointing her gun to Zéphyr. Surprised by the thunderous din, her target pivoted towards us, uncovered, turning her back to the human with the magnificent chin and his ZeG-4 who yelled:
“What in the whole universe is that? Wait! I know her! Did you bring us bounty hunters? You were clearly planning to double-cross us!”
The man shouted and his gun produced a rain of bullets. It first hit the windshield of the taxicab, passing through the conductor compartment where I was. The rounds bent the windscreen, but it held. This wasn’t, however, the case for the hood, protecting the engine and the reservoir full of coolant, which ended up covering the seat and my face.
Fortunately, the sticky alcohol allowed me to escape from this trap and jump out of the vehicle through the window I had previously opened. But, once again, a fire ring enveloped the ZeG-4’s cannon.
“This is how I die…” I meowed, eyes closed.
I was violently tackled and hit the ground. Zéphyr had saved me at the last moment, just before bullets obliterated the front of the taxicab.
Other projectiles ricocheted off the metal money drawers on the floor and got lost in the ceiling, activating the fire sprinklers. This incident triggered a silent light alarm throughout the hangar while the mobster prepared a new salvo.
“Don’t hurt my pilot, you narbo!” roared my partner.
Ali, this time taken as a target, retaliated. She fired a single shot towards the rascal with a formidable precision. No one knew how to handle such a heavy gun as she did. She was my human. She was the best in her field: murder.
And I taught her everything. Almost.
The leader of the robbers tried to reload the magazine of his weapon, unaware that his heart had been punctured a few seconds before. Adrenaline was doing its job. But the blood loss caused by the explosion of the aorta at its base, near the ventricles, gradually stopped him in his gesture. His pressure dropped and the bloodstream no longer reached the brain sufficiently. He was already in a coma when his shoulders touched the ground. He was luckier than the average Joe and died a few seconds later.
“Is everything all right?”
My voice was trembling, still in shock from this disaster. I was wet and frozen.
Zéphyr got up with difficulty. Next to us, one of the metal drawers was opened, revealing a bunch of green bills and a much stranger booty: an eight-inch gold diskette with suspicious Chinese symbols.
Well… I couldn’t read them but Chinese symbols on stuff are always suspect, aren’t they?
But there were more important matters. Because my partner, on the other hand, stayed on the ground. Blood was dripping from her black suit and mixed with the clear firefighting fluid that was falling like an endless rain.
I tried to talk to her again but my voice was lost in a groan.
“Why are you whining, you big baby? It’s just blood.”
With her nose in a puddle, my sapiens smiled at me. Her left hand was compressing her abdomen. The bullet had passed through the external oblique muscle, far from the stomach.
It wasn’t that bad after all but she had scared me. And that deserved a scratch on the wrist that made her scream:
“What the fuck?”
“And the medical expenses? Have you thought about medical expenses? We don’t have insurance!”
“God, Uncle Scrooge! I hate you!”
“We won’t be able to fix the Kitty with your heroic outbursts!” I fulminated to mask my joy of seeing her in one piece.
“I will kill you, Muppet! I almost died! I don’t give a fuck about your rusty trash can which flies like a brick!”
It was true that we hadn’t had a fight for a long time.
“Guys…” intervened Zéphyr.
“What?”
Ali and I had spoken together.
“These three ruffians had planned to steal the diskette drive from me once I got back. I needed a hand, so… thank you… I guess.”
“You’re welcome,” my human answered dryly while sitting.
Although Zéphyr saved me, I didn’t share the same kindness:
“Wait, we’re not letting him go! Do you know who he is?”
Zéphyr. Prince of thieves. And yes, he wasn’t much of a princess either. Just an androgynous cyborg. A breakout king wanted throughout the entire system for his affiliation with the Data Brokers’ Guild. With an incredible bounty of C$800,000, she or he… whatever… was the knight of the brokers’ chessboard.
“I think we’ve had enough for today,” Ali said. “Unless you hope to go after him with these big fat guts of yours.”
“By the 79 moons of Jupiter, you shall pay for this, woman!” I meowed, angry.
My ears were backwards and my hairs were spiky. But soaking wet, it just made Ali and Zéphyr laugh.
Disgrace!
“He’s so cute when he’s furious,” he joked.
Now on his knees, the night-skinned androgynous was blotting Ali’s wound with a torn piece of fabric from his driver’s uniform.
“But more seriously, I need to go. With the bounty, you’ll be able to repair your vessel. As for the hospital fees, I will contact a good friend who will take care of you for free. She’s the ship’s chief medical officer.”
“Thank you,” I simply replied as he helped my partner get back on her feet.
“It’s the least I can do. I wasn’t interested in money. More important information is contained in this,” he said as he was picking up the floppy disk.
This golden diskette must have been worth a lot of cash for Zéphyr to play a taxicab driver to ensure coverage. I had perceived that something was fishy!
Then, halfway to his Swift-0, Zéphyr stopped. I witnessed his hesitation.
“There was nothing personal, you know. We’re all just trying to make our way. The best we can…”
And he ultimately left before adding:
“Maybe we’ll see each other again! You seem like fun.”
Before fleeing away, Zéphyr abandoned one of the boxes near the criminal’s corpse. Thus, he validated the theory of a robbery that had gone wrong. When the security arrived a few minutes later, we were the heroes of the day. And with a little bribe, nobody cared about Zéphyr’s missing ship.
This whole story surely left us a bitter taste. A feeling of defeat and humiliation that the swimming pool under the synthetic sun couldn’t make disappear even a week after.
“He undoubtedly played us as we were rookies, with his little face of a young innocent girl in distress,” I said to Ali right after the end of the daily Brett Maverick.
This old show was dispensed on a couple of giant screens suspended by drones.
Until now, Ali had remained silent on her deckchair; with a brick of sour juice stuck between her breasts and a pair of straws between her teeth. Only inaudible grunts emanated from her mouth since the departure of the sexually unclassifiable mugger.
“I wonder what information this fucking cyber-Tootsie could have been looking for in that casino,” my human mumbled as she squeaked her rainbow flip-flops.
“Admit that it’s not really that question that puts you in such a state…” I answered, now well installed on my motorized buoy that I had gotten as a gift in a diet kibbles package.
“You bet! I will have a nasty tan mark on my stomach with these bandages!” she exploded, spitting out her plastic straws with infinite curls.
My float slipped towards the ledge as a robot came to bring us our next glucose overdose.
Ali finally added:
“I swear that if we run into him again, I’ll smack his fucking angel face.”
Back to business!

It’s been a while since I gambled. I do enjoy it tho. I’m not a full gambling addict and can go long periods without gambling and usually don’t think about it. But I do have a problem.and I am compulsive when I do gamble. Yesterday I had 1400 in cash laying around in my truck(otr truck driver is my job). I just started working for a new company and was at the terminal which happens to be next to a casino. I figured I’d check it out. Initially I only brought $300 and left the 1100 and my debit card in truck. I had a feeling I would get lucky if I didn’t bring too much.. and I was.I walked around and found a slot I liked. I usually play any slot that has Egyptian themes. So I hit a bonus on the Egyptian slot playing $10 spins and cashed it out for 1800. I should have stopped there but figured it take my winnings to blackjack and play with a few hundred of my winnings. I was also up a bit on blackjack. But kept playing. There were two drunk dudes at the table that kinda hyped me up. Honestly it was very fun. That’s part of why I stayed. I think of it was just me I would have left. Anyways I lost all my winnings and the initial 300 I came in with. Then went and got the cash and card from my truck. And lost the 1100 in cash and then withdrew 2000 from my card and lost that. I was gonna withdraw more too but my card atm limit was reached. I honestly had a lot of fun for the few hours I played. And played for a very long time. At the end tho I started placing big bets and kept getting dumpstered.
I’ve always wanted to experience a big win in a casino like 20000 or something. But I always just lose if I bet too big. I know it’s not smart.. and I should just play for fun sometimes and be happy with the medium small winnings.
I just wanna say I don’t think about gambling often.. but I have done this quite a few times in past. I’m a truck driver and get very bored and impulsively lose a few thousand dollars at a time which is a significant amount of money to me.
I’m the type of person who if I lose a good amount it hurts me too bad to go back and try and chase it right away and I usually just forget about it for a while. I feel like if I were to win a big chunk of change it would be the same way but I’ve never had any huge wins.
If I were to put a number on how much I’ve lost in poker games and casinos over the years it’s probably like 20k.
I have always been bad with my money. Financially I’m in a decent position to be well off in 4-5 years if I can start being smart with my money. I just started my second year as a truck driver and just moved to a new company a month ago. I take home about 1400 a week here and don’t have any real bills. I have opened a few brokerage accounts and those do help with my gambling urges. And to anyone with a serious gambling problem I think it helps as a compromise to gambling. It’s kind of like gambling but you have more control over it. I’m up about 6k.
That being said I don’t have a ton of money but I haven’t put myself into crippling debt and still have about 5k in the bank and 9k on my investments. I also put some money into some startup companies. So I can be great full for what I have.
The reason I’m posting here is because I’m upset with myself for staying at the casino after I was up and ignored my gut that said I should leave. Then I lose all that money. If I were to have left after winning that slot I would be happy with my winnings and forget about the casino for a while. Also I would be 4700 richer.
I know deep down I shouldn’t gamble at all and especially going against my gut feeling like I did.
Now is always a good time to stop gambling and if anyone is in a similar position or has a problem and wants someone to talk to let me know. I was thinking it would be cool to have a friend on here to talk to where we can motivate each other not to gamble and kind of remind each other that it’s not worth it.
I feel like gambling addictions or being impulsive like myself are hard problems to solve alone.

When I was 22, I moved to SoCal and lived with a relative until I got a job and got on my feet. Once I did that, I started looking for some roommates and an apartment. I found the best deal in the area on le trusty Craigslist -- that was my first mistake.
Now that I'm old and wise, I would never.
The apartment was a 3 bedroom 2 bath apartment for $300 a month with all utilities included + 2 roommates. This is was a super rare deal, SoCal is pricy so naturally I was like "hell yeah!" and I moved in. Jokes on me, cause it was awful and I thought I was either going to get beat up by these middle aged dudes or murdered.
The roommates were interesting. There was James, who was 45 years old and a huge One Direction fan. He was also a fifth grade teacher, but I later learned that he had been fired because he had a pretty severe drinking problem (which he did get help for and seems to be doing well these days after I looked him up on FB). The other roommate was a 40-something year old lady that I really didn't interact with. She was just rude to everyone, lol
Things were totally fine the first month, everyone just kind of did their own thing...but then things started to get pretty weird pretty fast.
The first incident, I had gotten new checks and my rent check had bounced. I was super confused, money was in the bank and it sucked. I looked into this and it was just a misprint at the bottom of the check where the account number is. I paid my rent in cash that month and I covered James' bounced check fee because that was the right thing to do. I apologized and I thought that was that.
James had a friend named Kevin that would come over to the apartment. Kevin was OK I thought. He was also in his mid-40's kind of an in-your-face personality. He worked at a casino so maybe he was just used to being that way. Anyway, these dudes would drink a whole bottle of vodka and get wasted. This isn't a huge deal, just something I noticed that they would do frequently through the week.
I came home one evening from work and James and Kevin were already drunk. As I was making my food, Kevin comes up to me in the kitchen and just starts screaming at me. I didn't say anything to these people to prompt this, but this dude is screaming at me asking why I couldn't pay my rent. I was super confused. I looked at James and I said "I did pay my rent, I told you the situation.". Kevin would NOT let up on this. I just didn't say anything and went to my room and locked myself in my room. Back then, I didn't have a lot of confidence and I was just afraid.
This seemed to have blown over and all was OK. I will say, when Kevin was sober, he was fine...but when he would start drinking, he was kinda scary.
A few weeks later, James invited me out to taco Tuesday with him, Kevin, and a couple of other people. I was trying to get along with my roommate and so I went. James drove a pickup truck that had a front and backseat. I sat in the front seat, not thinking anything of it, I just felt more comfortable sitting near James because I knew him the most. All of a sudden, Kevin loses his fucking mind. He, yet again, starts screaming at me because I was being "inconsiderate" and I'm not "friends with James" like that and I have "no right" sitting in the front seat. I am just staring at this dude who's screaming in the parking lot of our apartment complex. James is trying to calm him down saying it's really not a big deal, but Kevin was not having it. I texted my aunt, who lived close by about this psychopath just freaking out. My aunt wasn't in town and was also super concerned. I end up just not going.
After this, I felt really paranoid. I set up my computer and webcam to record while I was out of my room or away from the apartment. No one ever went in there, but I did get a key made (which was allowed by the complex) for my room and I would just lock it when I was away and that helped ease my mind a bit.
Over the next month, things were just uneasy. I did martial arts at the time and I'm pretty confident in those skills, but not confident when it was like, 2-3 dudes around against me. Everyone but James would make these weird comments. Like on a taco Tuesday, Kevin would tell me that I was "too big" to be ordering 3 tacos and if I ordered 3 tacos on a date, the guy would be disgusted. There was another time where one of their random friends told me that they would let me play with their iPhone 6 if I gave them a blow job. I didn't even know what to say. I just started at them blankly and I guess they took it as me 'thinking about it'. I was told I "wasn't even pretty", I was called a bitch, a slut, a whore, screamed at and so on.
This all came to a head when James and Kevin went out together one night. I was locked in my room doing some homework and Skyping with a friend. Then all of a sudden I heard the front door swing open and Kevin is on a rampage. All of a sudden he is banging on my door. I could hear James telling him to calm down and to stop, but this did not stop Kevin. I crack the door open and Kevin is screaming at me (shocking at this point) about how I "stole his iPhone 6 PLUS". At this point, I'm so over all of this I just flatly tell him I have 0 use for his phone because...I have the same phone. I suggested the he left it in his Uber. James agreed that that was likely the case.
Kevin demands to search my entire room saying he is going to "flip my room upside down.". He is so close to me at this point that James has to pull him away telling this dude to calm down, yet again. Once James gets Kevin far enough away, I slam and lock my door. Kevin is screaming through the door that he was going to kill me, that he had a gun at his apartment (he lived in the same complex) all over this iPhone 6 plus. I was terrified thinking I was going to lose my life over an item that I didn't even have in my possession. Kevin eventually left. and I just sat in my bedroom floor shaking and unsure what to do.
I moved out 3 days later. I told James via text that if Kevin is lucky that I didn't call the police and looking back, I should have. I was so afraid in the moment that I didn't know what to do other than plan to get out of that apartment for good. I started packing my stuff up the following night. When I came to the apartment that evening, James was upset that I was leaving and I told him that I'm not doing this. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, Kevin walks out of James' room as if he'd been hiding in there. He was smiling and he was just like "bye". I just went into my room. I could over hear James tell Kevin that he was the reason I was moving. Kevin was still hung up on this whole phone thing.
I saw them a few months after moving out in a bar and James went off on me because I told the apartment manager how awful it was living there and why I was moving. James and Kevin got kicked out of the bar, but I never saw them again after that night. Looking back, I would have done things totally different.
There is a silver lining, though! When I started dating my now-husband, we went out for taco Tuesday and I ordered 3 tacos + a margarita and husband was not disgusted... there's that, lol

Okay so I decided to create this guide with the hopes of it becoming a sticky thread for all newbies to the online slots world, to read as we deal with the same topics repeatedly and the same answers/advice are given repeatedly. Not that we do not want to help, but these would prevent you from getting into situations before its too late, or blaming casinos when you were in the wrong.
Signing up or Registration
Registration – Please carefully read the general terms and conditions about every "Right" the casino has and please note that you accepted these terms upon signing up, which means you are saying you are okay with it and agree with what the casino state about what they can and cannot do.

• No Deposit bonuses/Signup bonus – Many players are still NDB (No Deposit Bonus) hunters and register simply for these reasons. Please read the NDB/Signup Bonus terms carefully to make sure your country is eligible to receive the NDB/Signup bonus. We had many players getting upset about this factor and then end up closing their accounts immediately out of anger which leads to SE (Self Exclusion) at times. which I will address later in this thread. However, we do have instances where a casino does not list the eligible countries that can or cannot receive the NDB/Signup bonuses.
• More than one player in 1 house Hold – Many casinos only allow one player per house/IP address to register at a casino. You can ask a casino if you and your partnesibling who stays together can both signup and some casinos would give the "Ok". Just make sure you have this in written confirmation via email or something and not live chat.

Claiming Bonuses
Read the bonus terms carefully before claiming any bonuses and look for the following pointers when reading the bonuses rules:

• Wagering – Many casinos have increased their wagering on bonuses lately which makes bonus wagering very difficult to complete these days. Decide whether the wagering attach to the bonus is high or low for you since you know your game play and strategies. Many factors can influence whether you will be able to meet wagering, which is the x amount of wagering, game providers availability and deposit amount just to name a few. Also note that wagering for "certain countries" are higher than others. For me personally I think wagering between x35 – x50 on the "Bonus" amount "Only" is reasonable and fair.
• Max Bet – 99% of casinos have a max bet rule in place when claiming a bonus. Note what the max bet is for the specific casinos as it can range anything from 1 – 5 euro/$ per Spin. Deposit methods can affect the max bet as well as some casinos limit the max bet rule between 1 – 2 euro per spin for deposits using e-wallets, however that same casinos allow a max bet up to 5 euro per spin for credit card/Alternative deposits. Even though a casino state the max bet rule another tricky rule in the terms that we tend to miss is the coin value. Some casinos state that the max "Coin domination/value" should be $0.20 or $0.50 per spin which means if you want to bet higher you would need to adjust the "Level" portion in the slot if the coin domination/value limit is reached according to the terms. If you breach the Max bet rule and it is stated in their terms, you do not have a case, period. There are some casinos who you can explain your situation if it was a mistake and they do sometimes make exceptions.
• Deposit methods – Many casinos lately have restricted the claiming of bonuses using e-wallet deposit methods such as Neteller, Skrill etc. Note they mention these 2 as they are most popular, but that also means any other form of e-wallets are not eligible to claim bonuses. I have seen a lot of players complain that they did not receive the bonus simply because they did not read the terms before claiming the bonus and the deposit has already been made. Also make sure you deposit using your own card, do not use your parents or any other siblings credit card to make deposits as this would cause a problem during verification which in the end results in to winnings not being paid out.
• Deposit Methods Additional Info – Many deposits are available from Casinos or let's say most casinos have the same deposit methods available, however the country that you reside in has the influence on what deposit methods are available and the same counts for withdrawals. So, for instance if AskGamblers website state deposit by phone which is "Boku" is available at that specific casino it does not mean that it will be available for all players, as that is depending on your country. Deposit by phone is mostly available for the UK players basically as an example.
• Max Cash-Out – Many players claim bonuses and after they complete wager, they tend to withdraw immediately. Some players are left with substantial amounts only to find out they can only get x2 the bonus amount (Casinos like "Viks" casino and "Quasar Gaming" have this rule) or x10 their deposit. I understand this is frustrating and upsetting, but the problem is with the player itself. Stop blaming casinos because you could not do the simplest thing in the world which is just take 5 minutes to read the bonus terms.
• Restricted games – Please check which games are allowed and not allowed to be played with bonus funds. Some casinos have a feature where bonus money is not even visible on the restricted games, but other casinos bonus money will show on restricted games. In many instances these would not lead to confiscation of winnings, it just that it would not count towards wagering. They also have a term where they would say that bets place on all "Other" games other that "Slot machines" will be deemed in violation of the terms and condition and your bonus winnings will be voided – So watch out for this one.
• Double up feature – The only thing to say here is that this will not counts towards wagering.
• Cashable and Non-Cashable bonuses – This one is another tricky one, some people call it a "Sticky bonus". This just means where you receive the bonus you can use it to place bets and for wagering purposes, but the bonus amount can never be withdrawn. I find this term ridiculous and always avoid this type of bonuses.
• Bonus Abuse – This is a very complex/broad subject but mention the basic ones (Thanks for forum members tips which I included on this one), the rest you can do your own research about the rest associated with bonus abuse as we all have different opinions
• Bonus per player, per account, per IP address etc. If you take that same bonus twice or more times, using different accounts under your name, then it's an abuse.
• Claiming free spins offers – Deposit to get free spins and withdrawing deposit after claiming free spins but continue to play free spins is also some form of bonus abuse.
• Accumulating bonus rounds and start playing them when your bonus balance reach zero, and you win those money as real cash.
• Anything you can think of that disadvantages the house (Casino).
• Bonus wagering period – This never really is a problem, but just make sure you complete you bonus wagering with the set time frame the casino provided. This can range anything from 3 – 30 days otherwise winnings will be voided.

There are other bonus terms that I have not mentioned but I think the above ones are the most important as these could affect you in terms of confiscation of your winnings should you breach any of them.
Verification
This is pretty much standard for a casino to ask for some form of Identification, proof of address and proof of deposit when requesting a withdrawal. Depending on the amount win, some casinos might not need documents, however when a substantial amount has been won additional verification or security checks might be done which means a longer withdrawal time frame. Verification or KYC is necessary, however I feel when casinos ask for selfies with your ID next to you etc. in my opinion is just ridiculous. Also, I have noticed some casinos requesting your source of income to see where you get the money to make deposits etc. This seems standard and you would need to do it to get your withdrawal, however all of us have different opinions about this verification procedure.
Withdrawals
Many casinos have different withdrawal time frames and when you accept the general terms and conditions you have to a abide by them, by this I mean stop being impatient and complain that the casinos withdrawal time frames are the worst etc. As you knew this before you started playing provided you have read the terms and condition. You decided to deposit and play so then wait for your money, eventually it will come unless you breached some rule, or the casino is a rogue casino.
Here are some of the tips you should note when it comes to withdrawals at casinos:

• Verification – This is standard procedure and you have to do this if the casino request it.
• Time-frames – This one I feel can be interpreted in many ways but let me give you my version of how I View things. When a casino says e-wallets 0 – 1 or 0 – 24 hours. This means that the casinos use that time-frame to process your withdrawal and after it being processed your money should be instantly available. Credit cards that state 3 – 7 business days and this is where some newbies get this wrong – This simply state the time frame they take to process the payment to your card, it does not mean you will get your money within 3 – 7 days, however this is possible. Prepare yourself for the longest waiting period to avoid becoming impatient and upset – So if a casino says 3 – 7 days expect to get it in 10 days max, however you can get it within 4 days, but sometimes casinos just stretch it to process it on the last day possible with the hopes you would reverse the withdrawal and continue to play. This technique of casinos sometimes works. So, if they process your withdrawal it can take another 3 – 5 days to hit your account based on your location and the banks in your country as they have internal controls with foreign currency. There are however hiccups with payment providers/processors etc. but these are at times out of the casinos control. My best is advice is "Patience".
• Reversing Withdrawals – With the timeframes explanation I just gave above and being impatient, players tend to reverse their withdrawals. They continue playing and end up losing their winnings. Stop blaming casinos as this is your own fault that you Lost the funds. You made the decision to reverse the withdrawal. If you really need to play, make a deposit at another casino or sister website and play there while you patiently wait for you withdrawal. Some casinos have the lock feature, so lock down your withdrawal so you do not reverse the withdrawal or play at other casinos which has quicker withdrawal time frames of 0 – 1 hour instead of days. The key here is "Patience".

Self-Exclusion
Self-Exclusion is a big thing these days and most cases substantial amounts are involved that are being confiscated. There are at times very little that us forum members or even AskGamblers can do when a player self-excluded and played at a sister website or similar, as we know the result and of course the house is kind of right. However, I think it's bad that a casino only realizes the self-exclusion portion on a player profile once it reaches withdrawal stage, because I feel they should have something in place that can detect that you self-excluded upon registration or before you even make your first deposit. People with gambling problems tend to self-exclude but the alternative is to read this guide - https://www.askgamblers.com/forum/topic/2152-sos-i-am-addicted-to-gambling-what-to-do/ . My advice is to keep your casino account open and do not play there anymore, because even if you request a permanent account closure, some casinos tend to self-exclude you without you knowing it and this would cause problems in future since you opened another account at their sister website or something.

To bring everyone up to speed on network topology in games:
GTA Online uses what's called a peer-to-peer mesh network setup. This means that every PC/console on a connected session is talking to every other PC/console in that session. The preferred alternative for most multiplayer games is sever-client, where in every PC/console is talking with a single server.
With p2p mesh, this means that everyone shares authority. What this translates to is that a server is not the single authority checking for malicious activity, much of which anyone who has played GTA Online for is familiar with. This also means that anyone with the know-how can figure out what IP every other person is connecting from. This can lead to other malicious activity outside of the game.
But standing up dedicated servers costs money. Why not avoid that?
There are plenty of cases to be made where peer-to-peer connectivity makes sense, especially from a cost-savings perspective. But in some cases, like GTA Online, the benefits/gains from using a server-client setup far outweigh the costs.
So, in no particular order:

What Dedicated Servers Would Have Brought to RS/T2:

More purchases of cash in the Social store.
We'll start with the obvious here. When someone can get into a game and ask about [redacted method of obtaining money] and get a response 50% of the time, it's an obvious miss on being able to purchase prepaid in-game credit cards from the store. There's no incentive. And if they don't want to ask someone to do it, they can do it themselves.
Higher volume of Twitch streamers.
It seems easily correlated, but Twitch's research shows that livestreaming leads to better game sales. The reason this isn't streamed as broadly is because not everyone can get enough reliable people for a heist. Private sessions can be invaded by the same people who also [redacted method of obtaining money]. This is regardless of the privacy of a lobby, because those same people can find a unique identifier on the public Rockstar social site and join it, regardless of whether or not they're a friend or a crew member-- or simply not invited.
What this translates to are people who have such a low bar to pass to join a streamer's game and hold the experience hostage, crash the session or do any other number of malicious things. They can also impersonate people and send messages as them. So this further leads to things like not being able to do:
Twitch Rivals streams between competing streamer teams.
Imagine this: the game is pretty solidly protected from people who [redacted method of obtaining money] and those incidents they generate are rare, and when they do pop up, they're punished. So, streaming this game is far more viable. Competitive crews start forming, and Rockstar promotes an event with streamers where they're able to host lobbies and get 24, 36 or even 48 streamers in one session running 12 different crews for things like:

• Business goods battles
• Arena wars
• Deathmatches
• Races

And so on and so forth. But because items have to be obtained through legitimate game mechanics, it also implements a grind. Maybe these groups/crews have been running for a while. But then you'd also be able to do:
Streamer Drops through Connected Accounts
We've seen other games do this, where viewers can get "drops" into their game by watching the streamer play it. These drops could have been literally anything that was on the Diamond Casino Wheel of Fortune. It could have even been a bonus spin at the wheel, to encourage getting the player in the game.
The Long-Term, Sharded MMO Experience
This translates to cash because people would be continually playing the game, which means more people paying for in-game cash and general popularity because more people would be streaming it, but this is the bigger buyback to the player, too.
Imagine a crew that worked hard at completing a certain set of heists on hard difficulty, no deaths, consecutive. Four people who are streaming their attempt like people do for raid bosses. And their reward was a unique yacht only available for them.
A ranked arena war system that awarded players who got 100 wins with a unique vehicle or livery.
The system could have been adjusted to make some things a grind. Making that money with friends, and then knowing that if someone had a high-end apartment, much less a casino penthouse, that they earned it through blood, sweat and hard work.
Powerful crews that were running around and happen to land on the same lobby and an all-out war with tactics, reinforcements and a consideration of cash drain to get the win in Los Santos.
These are the things that Rockstar and Take2 missed out on by not having dedicated servers with protections against [redacted method of obtaining money]. They were on the verge of greatness. They were this close. And I know that a lot of this translates over for Red Dead Online, too.

Is It Too Late to Do All of This?

No, I don't think so. If RockstaTake2 were to seek redemption from this, here's what they'd have to do:
Implement a dedicated server gamemode, and only allow characters created for this game mode specifically.
If people want to continue messing around in peer-to-peer sessions, maybe they allow that for a time before slowly forcing people over (because it's all about that money, right?). But create a new character (or duplicate the looks of one), and make it only available for play on controlled, dedicated servers.
You can even put Ye Olde GTA 5 spin on it and have Lester come in and say, "Yeah, I know the simulation was pretty fucked, right? It got hacked by kids on Christmas break. But anyway, now that you know what's possible out there in this stupid, god-forsaken world, well... uh, perhaps it's time we started making some money. And you remember Fleeca, right?"
Then people start off fresh, and work on earning things through the grind. I promise you, that'll net you some untold money and viewership. And I have faith enough that even if you made a very solid push into authoritative client-host conversion from peer-to-peer mesh, allowing the authoritative client-host to be controlled by Rockstar servers, you'd get something out of it.
And I will put a disclaimer on here: I don't know if the game engine is so archaic that it wouldn't allow for this kind of change. And if that is indeed the case, then the only thing that I can say is you missed out on all of the above by choosing to design what you did, because it is a proprietary engine.
But if you can, imaginary Rockstar or Take2 directory reading this, please, I implore you. Push for the change. This has been one of the best social games for me during lockdown, and I can't overstate how much everyone will benefit from this.
Sincerely,
~The Village Idiot

Sounds kinda like somebody who goes bankrupt in the casino business, right? But we're told over and over and over that Toda was "a successful businessman". Let's take a look at one of the rare examples of his supposed business savvy, which is rare because, while SGI tells us that Toda had "ten businesses" or "seventeen businesses", it only identifies TWO - the publishing company that went bankrupt and the failed credit cooperative.
Hmmm...
Anyhow, on to business! This is all from The Human Revolution, Vol. 2, First Edition 1974. First, a bit of a lead-in about the failing publishing company because that's an integral part of the narrative:

When word got out about the condition the company was in, Toda's associates in the publishing field were certain to react in different ways. Some would sympathize, others would laugh, and perhaps some would make derogatory comments about Toda's abilities in business.

Perhaps 😐

But none of this would alter him.

Why not? If you fail at something, shouldn't the thought at least cross your mind that you need to do something different to avoid that outcome again? If you were able to understand why you failed, wouldn't that knowledge help you perhaps make better decisions in the future? Ah, but that would require change, something Ikeda prides himself on never doing, so naturally, his "mentor" would never, either.

Let the publishing firm stop operations, let it go bankrupt, Josei Toda was and would remain a man with a great mission.

See, when people can't focus on their work, they don't tend to do as well. This is one of the dangerous aspects of religious zealotry.

But he would always rise to the top again. That was the kind of man he was, and Yamamoto was certain that some day the whole world would come to understand and respect this great personality. (p. 200)

Made to order in his ghostwritten fictitious novels! But the truth peeks out once in a while from under the sloppy covering of lies. Let's back up a few pages and see what led up to all this.

As one of the initial steps to implement the Dodge Line, all new loans from the Financial Bank for Reconstruction were halted. This dealt industry a crippling blow and caused a panic in financial circles that had immediate repercussions in the offices of Josei Toda's publishing firm.
Reopened after the war primarily to serve as a basis for the rebuilding of the Soka Gakkai

THERE's a big problem right there....

Toda's company, Nihon Shogakkan, had in that sense been a success, largely due to his efficient and able management. But it was already financially shaky when the Dodge Line, by stimulating a tight-money policy in local banks, seriously reduced Toda's operational funds.

Okay - let's pause here. It appears that Toda's supposed "efficient and able management" was all about restarting the Soka Gakkai. What we learn here is that Toda's company is "financially shaky" - it is only surviving thanks to infusions of other people's money in the form of bank loans. His publishing business is NOT profitable, though earlier we were told it was! If the only way you can stay open is by taking out loans on an ongoing basis, you're insolvent.

It is possible that he ought to have acted quickly to reduce business expenses by cutting back on the staff and effecting other emergency methods.

Yes, that would have been consistent with "efficient and able management" IF that "efficient and able management" had been referring to the management of his publishing business.

But he could not because he was fundamentally positive and humane in business. He could not find it in his heart to fire people who had been loyal to him, the company, and Soka Gakkai through very trying times. Perhaps he was not cold-blooded enough to succeed in modern business.

Or perhaps he simply WASN'T capable of "efficient and able management".
But that would mean he wasn't a successful businessman, and the whole rest of the narrative insists that he WAS a successful businessman! None of this is making any narrative sense.

A resourceful man, never at a loss for fresh ideas, especially in times of trouble, Toda gave much thought to his predicament. At last he decided that when money is tight the way to profit is to open a credit association. A small moneylending business would provide the operational funds so badly needed by his publishing firm. As luck would have it, something promising in this line turned up quite soon.

Sense of foreboding...rising...rising...

One morning in June, 1949, Toda received an unexpected visit from Taro Kurikawa, an old acquaintance who had been kind enough to lend office space to Toda when he first reopened the publishing business after the war.

This source stated plainly that Toda bought the whole building at the very beginning. With his own money.

The two men discussed many things, including the Dodge Line and the menacing effect it was having on Toda's business. Kurikawa, who had once been a member of the Tokyo metropolitan assembly, had many friends.

Maybe HE should be the one starting a credit cooperative!😃

When Toda told him of his idea to start a small finance company, Kurikawa listened attentively. Then slapping his thigh, he suddenly said: "I've got it. You're right that in times like these lending money is the only way to survive, and I just got wind of some news that might interest you."

Isn't that a strange way of thinking? That when people don't have any money, the best way to MAKE money is to lend THEM money? How are they going to pay it back if they don't have any money? Isn't that predatory and UGLY?? Like loan-sharking?? DEFINITELY non-Buddhist!

"It's not definite yet, but I hear that an old acquaintance of mine - Toru Oi - is trying to convert his consumers' guild into a credit cooperative. He used to be a high government offical; but he's gotten old, and it would be dangerous for him to assume management of a business."

WHY "dangerous"??

"So far, he is having difficulties changing his guild into a credit company because he can't find the right partner. That's where you come in with your great knack for business."

Ha ha ha.
There it is again.

"What do you think? I'll help too, if you need me. If you're interested, I could call on him today and check the matter out."
Toda knew too much about business to become overly enthusiastic over all offers presented. After thinking a minute he said: "It's not a bad idea, but it wouldn't be so easy to make a success of something like that. To be frank, if someone else had come to me with the plan, I'd have turned it down."

Odd...if he really "knew so much about business".

"Oi is absolutely all right, except for his age. There will be some legal problems, but since the investor will be the same person, they shouldn't amount to much. It's not as if you were starting a new company from scratch; you'll just be changing an old one."

This doesn't sound very good...

From what Kurikawa said, it appeared that the new firm could start operations immediately. Still Toda hesitated: "Are you sure this consumers' guild isn't in danger of going broke? I couldn't afford to take on anything unsound at this stage in the game."

Does anyone know what a "consumers' guild" even is?

"No. It's not making much, but I know for certain that it's not in the red, either," said Kurikawa.

Doth the lady protest too much?

"I'll talk to OI, see what he says, and call you again. Maybe you could arrange a meeting in a few days."
"All right," said Toda. "We can meet first. I'll decide whether to get involved in this after we've met."
A few days later, Toda met Mr. Oi, who explained to him the legal procedures for changing the present status to that of a credit cooperative. He then outlined the running of the company, listed the board of directors, and briefly related their duties. Toda was appalled at the inefficiency with which Oi managed things. But the very challenge of taking on such a company, which was not in fact in desperate financial straits

Methinks the lady doth protest too much!

whetted his appetite for business.

So here we've got someone who knows nothing about this type of business, who considers himself qualified to judge whether it's solvent or not - given that there were not audit provisions or reporting requirements for businesses like there are today. Why couldn't "Oi" have shown him falsified financial statements? Toda would have never known...

Toda accepted the offer of partnership that Oi made and set out immediately to take the necessary legal steps.

Notice that this credit cooperative is originally a partnership but becomes solely Toda's as the narrative goes on. Even though it originally had its own board of directors, who would have stayed in place if this had been a partnership bringing a new partner on board as described. What about them?

...the new company, named the Toko Credit Cooperative, finally opened in the fall. The offices were on the first floor of Toda's Nihon Shogakkan

Remember, that building TODA purchased.

and most of the staff, too, came from the publishing company. (pp. 190-193)

Why would anyone think that people who had worked for a publishing company would know anything about how to run a credit cooperative? The savvy businessperson, when embarking on a new venture, hires the most qualified people that can be found in that type of business! NOT people from church, neighbors, relatives, and that guy he has drinks with at the bar most Thursday nights!

In contrast to the rising trends in Soka Gakkai affairs, the Nihon Shogakkan publishing company pursued a steady downhill course. The tight-money policy, overproduction in the publishing business, and finally, the rebirth of many of the popular magazines that had been discontinued during the war defeated small publishing houses. Toda's magazines, Ruby and Boys' Adventures, had done well at first, even when book sales were dropping.

That's because they were PORN: Take a look.
This is a page from Ruby.

But soon these two periodicals could no longer withstand competition from the big magazines. Ruby failed first, as large numbers of issues were returned unsold each month. Boys' Adventures managed somehow to stay in the black for a while. In August, 1949, Toda changed its name to The Boy of Japan in the hope of attracting buyers, but by autumn unsold copies had reached eighty percent of all issues printed.

Changing the NAME and not the CONTENT to fix a failing publication seems like a BAD business decision to me.

One chilly, cloudy fall morning, Toda assembled his employees in the main office and had Okumura, the accountant, give a full statement of the financial status of the firm. The figures that Okumura read in a dispirited voice left no room for doubt: the company was facing a severe crisis, with a deficit of millions of yen each month.

See? It was only loans from the bank that were keeping the company afloat.

Until that moment, many of these people had not opened their eyes to the true significance of the returned books, the unsold magazines, the unpaid bills, and the complaints about arrears from the printing and paper companies. For one thing, the glow of happiness they had experienced at the wonderfully successful fourth general meeting of Soka Gakkai still lingered.

This should illustrate the danger of mixing religious zealotry with business. Religious zealotry makes people addled.

But more important, no one who worked for Toda could believe that he would not somehow pull them out of any preidcament. While realizing that the company was in trouble they nevertheless continued to trust that Toda would fix it all.

Oh, where, oh where is someone who can STAND UP??

"I have thrown this open to you becasue I trust you and need your suggestions," Toda said, addressing everyone present.
"Those figures must be wrong," came a voice from the back of the room.
"Figures don't lie," retorted Toda. "And Okumura arrived at these figures after long and very careful calculations. Human beings - especially people who lack strength - interpret things the way they want them to be.

"You're weak, you worthless worms!"
Also, preaching.

"When it is convenient, they can convince themselves that black is white. But cold, hard figures can't be treated that way: you can't make a credit out of a debit.

Actually, that is very easy to do! Debits are your assets; credits are your liabilities. You can use your "debits" as a down payment for something; then all you have left are the "credits" for what you are on the hook to pay back! Sheesh. Obviously, these ghostwriters weren't accountants or even Accounting Honors Students!

"Figures do nothing but illuminate the incontrovertible facts, and recognizing them frankly for what they are takes courage. The way a person acts on the basis of these frightening figures shows what kind of stuff he is made of. Facing the facts and using them is what is meant by true human strength."

Ugh. MORE preaching.

The employees believed for a moment that this remark was another one of Toda's introductions to a splendid solution. But from his solemn look and from what he said next they saw that the situation was grave.

That ol' incompetent omniscient narrator again. SUCH terrible writing.

"I'm serious. If any of you have any ideas to offer, please speak up. These figures are not just correct, I suspect they are optimistic. They are still incomplete, for one thing. The number of returned magazines covers only the period ending three months ago. We can be fairly sure that when the rest of the figures are in the picture will be still darker. Since the situation is certain to get worse, we've got to put our minds to it now. Don't misunderstand me; I'm not blaming you. I only want your ideas and opinions."

THIS isn't "leadership". And it isn't the clerks' job to figure out how to save the company. They weren't even aware of the company's desperate situation.

Bewildered by the gloomy outlook of the company and by Toda's complete lack of his usual wit and humor, no one had anything to suggest.
"Well," said Toda, "it's not surprising that you have nothing to say on such short notice. I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I have only one idea. We must stop publishing. It may be that in the near future we can start again, but examining the pluses and minuses has convinced me that we must stop right now. If we do not, we will only be adding to our deficit, no matter how hard we work."
"Of course, I shall expect all of you to do your best in cleaning up the remaining affairs of the publishing company. We'll gradually start thinking about what future steps to take at the proper time. I hope you'll all take this bravely. Try not to be discouraged. Remember that I expect a lot from my disciples. Stopping publication is hard on us, but we won't be causing anyone else any trouble."
As they drifted aimlessly back to their desks, the employees of Nihon Shogakkan were in a state of semishock. The publishing company was going to close down. Toda's words of encouragement

THAT's what passed for "encouragement"??

had little effect. Many of the people thought most seriously about what they would do for a living if the company closed permanently. Still, all of them cared enough about Toda not to betray such feelings by so much as a look, let alone a word.

Because that's the Japanese way.

The news of the cessation of publishing activities came as a deep shock to Shin'ichi Yamamoto. Since joining Toda's firm in January, 1949, he had devoted himself to the magazine Boys' Adventures, which had gained some popularity. In May he had been appointed editor-in-chief of the magazine.

Recall that Ikeda had been employed at a different publishing company before he came to work for Toda.

... A sense of accomplishment and happiness at his promotion inspired Yamamoto to devote all his time to the magazine, of which he was proud. His work brought him into closer contact with many small children.

WHAT??

He watched them fondly as they played pranks, laughed, cried over quarrels, or chewed their pencils as they puzzled over difficult problems in their textbooks. Often he felt an impulse to hold them in his arms. He felt that he would be willing to do anything for them.

What IS this? This is so weird! And remember, once Ikeda had children of his own, he turned into the world's foremost absentee father and deadbeat dad! Is this supposed to gloss over THAT uncomfortable fact?

... Yamamoto's personality and and his ardor for his magazine won him friends among the artists and their families. From time to time, when writers or painters were out of sorts, the charm of Yamamoto's way triumphed over their bad humor and enabled them to finish on time tasks that otherwise might have been late. For the most thorny personal problems, Yamamoto called on the intercession of wives and other family members. He always made a good impression and won the affection and confidence of everyone with whom he came into contact. As he learned the many aspects of his work, day by day Yamamoto found it more interesting and worthwhile. Gradually, as he became proficient in his tasks, his self-confidence grew and fed his aspirations for the future.

Gaaah - my fingers just threw up all over the keyboard. Gimme a minute...

In the fall of 1949, he started working on ambitious plans for a special New Year issue of The Boy of Japan, as the magazine was by then called. Blah blah blah.
Because his hopes were high, the announcement of plans to halt publication came as an especially great blow to Yamamoto. It was almost as if an airplane that he had been piloting had suddenly lost power and started hurtling earthward. He saw with painful clarity that he could do nothing but resign

If only!

himself to the collapse of his beloved boys' magazine.

Yeesh, such overblown, puffy, florid prose. Yeah, we get it - reality sometimes bites. And having to FACE reality can be painful, especially when one has obviously been operating from a position of delusion. But lay off the flowery phrasing a little...

Fortunately, a messenger boy from a printing company came in with the galley proofs of the December issue of the magazine. Remembering what Toda had said about not letting the halt of publications interfere with outstanding business, Yamamoto started thumbing through the pages of proof. As the smell of fresh printer's ink filled his nostrils, Yamamoto quickly became absorbed in his task, aware all the while that perhaps this was the last work he would ever do on the magazine to which he had devoted so much love and care. When he finished his proof, he looked at his watch and saw that he had read through the lunch hour. He was hungry.

Big boy's gotta eat!
Yamamoto started chewing on the proofs.

Deciding to go out for something to eat, he rose and moved toward the front door of the office.

What, they couldn't just write, "He got up and headed out" instead??

As Yamamoto passed the reception area, he caught a glimpse of Toda laughing happily over a game of Japanese chess that he was playing with a frequent visitor to the company.

"What a man!" thought Yamamoto.

There he sat playing a game as if nothing was wrong, when only this morning he had announced that the company was about to collapse. (pp. 194-199)
While the rest of Toda's employees suffered under the paralyzing effects of the bad news, Yamamoto set briskly about his afternoon errands. First, he had to call on an artist to pay for some work. Then he had to pick up the plate for an ink drawing for the December issue of The Boy of Japan.
The artist's house was cold, bleak, and disorderly; but the man had apparently been eagerly awaiting Yamamoto's visit. ...Almost before he was aware of it, Yamamoto was talking about Nichiren Shoshu and the philosophy of Nichiren Daishonin. He did not intend to try and convert the artist.

SUUUURE he didn't...

In fact, he was still not actually talking with that aim in mind. But the painter became very interested. Though he had no knowledge of Buddhism, what Yamamoto told him fired his imagination. Before they parted, the painter said he would like to discuss the matter more fully some other time. Yamamoto, after promising to contact him again soon, went out into the twilight. (pp. 201-202)

...and that's the last we ever hear of this artist/painter! I suspect this vignette was inserted for the sole purpose of making it appear that Ikeda had ever attempted shakubuku, even inadvertently. Because Ikeda has never shakubukued ANYONE! Not ONE of those "world leaders" Ikeda has paid for a photo-op with held DIALOGUES with ever converted... SENSEIFAIL!!

The day the last issue of The Boy of Japan - the December issue - came off the press, the weather was clear and bright outside the Kanda offices of Nihon Shogakkan. Inside, a gloomy silence reigned. As Shin'ichi Yamamoto sat caressingly reading the final product of his work

eeeewwwwwwww

others in the office were whispering among themselves about where they would go to work and what they would do when the company finally collapsed, which it was certain to do within a matter of days.
As a matter of fact, on the very next day, Toda called his staff together to announce the closing of the publishing company and, on a more hopeful note, to explain the nature and policies of the new credit cooperative. All members of the publishing staff who wished to remain were automatically put on the payroll of the credit company as soon as Shogakkan was officially declared closed. Toda had sensed the dissatisfaction and insecurity of his staff members and he held this meeting of explanation in an attempt to calm fears.

Ugh. SUCH awkward writing.

While relating stories of his many years of management experience and the successes and failures he had lived through, he illustrated his points by referring to the basic principles of both communism and capitalism. He explained what a credit cooperative is

We were just told that same information only a few sentences ago...

and went on to relate why he had decided to undertake this kind of enterprise, showing wherein he saw hope for its future development and growth.

Blah blah blah. Lecture, preach, lecture. Ugh.

Yamamoto realized that much of what Toda said was not being sympathetically received by members of the organization who were already planning to quit at the earliest chance.

Why not yesterday? Or right NOW if they truly had such intent?

Nonetheless, he was deeply moved by the speech, especially when Toda concluded with: "All business enterprises are subject to rises and falls. Economics, like all other things, has its own rules, which cannot be ignored. Once those rules are understood, it is effort, enthusiasm, and patience that determine the success or failure of a company.

Wow - pretty OBLIVIOUS to be lecturing/preaching at his staff like this when his OWN company has just failed. No self-awareness at ALL, that Toda!
Meanwhile, Ikeda: "What a man!"

"Hard work is the same in all companies, big and small. As far as my experience teaches, as long as people are not afraid of hard work, even though things may sometimes seem desperate, a way will always be found."
Before adjourning the meeting, Toda instructed Okumura to divide all cash on hand equally and to distribute it among his employees as part of their salaries. None of them ever knew how valuable that money could have been to the firm itself. (p. 203-204)

Another for our #ThatHappened files. The biz is supposedly insolvent, can't pay its bills, is months behind in its bills, yet they have money to pay "an artist" and to hand out as a lovely parting gift for the staff who are just transferring directly over to the new credit cooperative. WHY would he give them the business' money when he'd already given them new jobs to slide right on over into?? Without even a day's loss of pay?? THAT's not competent management.
This is the end of 1949.

What they're also not coming right out and stating plainly is that Toda started up a lending operation, and that he lent money to desperate people as incentive to join his Soka Gakkai.

From around the spring of 1950, the performance of Toda's credit association fell into decline and its business operations were suspended. In August, Toda announced he was stepping down from his position as general director of the Soka Gakkai in order to prevent his business problems from negatively impacting the organization. Source

BOY, THAT ship went down fast! Didn't even make it out of the harbor!

Notice that Ikeda started working for Toda in early 1949. There are reports that Ikeda was involved in collections. Notice that, once Ikeda got involved, Toda became more successful, though it's typically couched in terms of how many more families they convinced to convert. One can only wonder how much of this was because these families were on the hook to Toda because they owed him money. This type of private lending was probably completely unregulated as well - along the lines of the "payday loans" businesses that charge astronomical interest rates and get people caught up in a cycle where they can never pay back their debts and must be constantly borrowing more and more and more. There's a whole "honor code" in Japanese culture that we gaijin have no way of understanding - Japanese people will often go to great lengths and do all sorts of unimaginable stuff just to avoid "losing face" and because they owe someone else. Source

Is it possible that Toda got into one of the prison gangs for a lot of money while he was incarcerated and had to quick pay off some deadly debts? I've seen "Drive" and "Shot Caller" - I know how that works. Pretty quick to drive the credit cooperative straight into the ground, given that he was just a partner AND there was supposed to be a board of directors watching over the operations! Whatever happened to the board and Oi?? See how it's suddenly ALL Toda's?