Post by Nabel on Apr 7, 2015 12:29:27 GMT
"Dave, this is why your so-called 'gambling paradise' is falling apart." Nabel grunted at the dealer turned casino owner, as another pachinko machine spontaneously self-combusted. "Did you see that? Seriously, did you see that?" The demon gave a half-hearted, ki-infused chuckle, extinguishing the flames. "I haven't even started that one yet, it was literally just sitting there." He kicked the charred machine, which lined up with three other equally-charred machines. "That was the sixth one, in the last two days." He sighed. "I haven't even played a single game yet! This is all you!"
"Ye're juist as whiny as ol' Chucky, aren't ye?" 'Dave' spoke up in a heavily accented voice. "Fine then Jerry, whit dae ya want me to dae wi' this joint?"
"Um, I don't know where to start." Nabel grimaced. "Maybe get rid of the machines?" The fiend kicked one of said machines to make a point, holding in a laugh as it fell apart in a cartoonish manner. "Y'know? So the damn things stop setting your own property on fire." He turned back to stamped out another flame erupting from the machine. "Oh, and also, get some actual dealers." He stared at a sleeping old man who rested behind the cashier counter. "... And people who aren't Old Man Steve."
"I have arthritis!" The old-timer jolted awake, before promptly passing out again.
"Nobody cares Steve!" Nabel snapped at the old man. "Do you still know how to deal Dave?" The younger man sat down at one of the many rotten casino tables. "Let's play some blackjack, you need to make some money somehow, you know?"
"Pshaw," Dave sat down, pulling out a deck of dusty, old trading cards. "Ah bet ye fifty zeni, that a customer wull walk richt in at ony moment."
"Ye're juist as whiny as ol' Chucky, aren't ye?" 'Dave' spoke up in a heavily accented voice. "Fine then Jerry, whit dae ya want me to dae wi' this joint?"
"Um, I don't know where to start." Nabel grimaced. "Maybe get rid of the machines?" The fiend kicked one of said machines to make a point, holding in a laugh as it fell apart in a cartoonish manner. "Y'know? So the damn things stop setting your own property on fire." He turned back to stamped out another flame erupting from the machine. "Oh, and also, get some actual dealers." He stared at a sleeping old man who rested behind the cashier counter. "... And people who aren't Old Man Steve."
"I have arthritis!" The old-timer jolted awake, before promptly passing out again.
"Nobody cares Steve!" Nabel snapped at the old man. "Do you still know how to deal Dave?" The younger man sat down at one of the many rotten casino tables. "Let's play some blackjack, you need to make some money somehow, you know?"
"Pshaw," Dave sat down, pulling out a deck of dusty, old trading cards. "Ah bet ye fifty zeni, that a customer wull walk richt in at ony moment."
