As Thomas wanders the streets from time to time, he thinks about his forefathers memoires. The tales of money, power, drugs and loyalty. He sees the pages in his mind's eye and can feel the pressure of a gangsters life like he lived them

And then, he realized he was under this pressure too, coming back after his ancestors left this country for a long time in safe, law abiding positions in life, a life he had hated and the complacency and the boredom that came with it.

He knew that coming back to the States would be a big adventure, but boy had he been underestimating it. Soon after arriving in the Philly harbor he had joined a group of blue collar folks working for a bulk of a man who kept shooting orders and drilling all new arrivals into shape.

The 'man' had been harsh but kind to young Thomas, but made it clear he would not be giving handouts and would expect people to work their way to the top. Knowing not much about the proper 'hard work' out there, Thomas had been lucky finding a big fat wallet with money and some casino chips one day. He had been ecstatic that day and after a long night of tossing and turning he had made a plan for the day after, risky as hell but potentially full of rewards.

His mind made up he made his way downtown to the posh and glamorous center of Las Vegas and picked out the perfect spot to get rich

The Squishy Casino

As he studies the sign he thought to himself, a little dodgy but hey i feel lucky today. He enters the casino and is greeted swiftly by the cashier

Hello Sir,

You look like you are a new face in town, could i interest you in a 10% increase to those chips as a first timer promotion, our casino is widely visited and maybe customers have left our frontdoor smiling happily

Naively, Thomas, is not aware that the number of visitors leaving side doors and the back door would not be smiling happily accepts the offer of the kind smiling gentlemen and proceeds to the floor to try his luck...

Roulette, Blackjack and Dice all games he knows a bit about and the tables look packed unlike the poker table towards the back.

The casino is brightly lid, waiters running around with their penguin suits and coasting drinks to gamblers who seem more sweaty and aggrivated than Thomas would have expected. 

As he sits down at the first table and looks around the faces, hmm some he recognizes from the streets of Philly and Detroit he was recently on his way west, he decides to not disturb them in their concentration. 

As his first game is played he realizes that in he backseats quite a few dodgy looking fellows are sitting, quite puffed up man with broad necks and big hands, he feels a little alarm bell in his mind, but puts it away, "probably to avoid some ruffians coming in and disturbing the respectable gamblers'. 

And it is your role sir, the Casino employee catches Thomas' attention and see him role the dice. Double 4's, nice work sir you have won your bet, would you like to bet again.

Thomas nods, and before he knows it he is so engrossed into the game he forgets time and his greed takes hold of him. But in time the house seems to win more and more, and before he knows it he is down to his last stack of chips worth less than half of what he brought in, in a desperate attempt he bets it all.

Allright sir, double 5's or better will serve you well, aannnd, ahh a double 2, house wins.

Thomas sinks down to his seat, NOOOOO, that cannot be, he was 300% up just half an hour ago, or was that much longer ago, time seems to be creeping so slow in here. As he looks around the dealer at the blackjack table smiles at him sadly, the gentlemen at the dice table is looking at him and nodding that he should make room for the next player. He panics and tries to grab some of his chips still in front of him

Excuse me sir, but those belong to the house now,

"SECURITY"

Withing seconds Thomas lands face first into a pile of junk on the backside of the casino, cussing himself for being an idiot and wondering how to move on from here. As he looks around he sees two more faces of broken souls he saw earlier in the casino as well. Stewing with his self-hatred, empty stomach and soon to be headache from all the cheap booze he walks homeward.

The next morning he wakes up and sees that his meager cash left over is just the amount needed to pay off his family lead for the day, knowing he'll have to grind all petty work and small drug deals with the crack heads he knows he is in for a very long day. Sighing he picks up his coat and walks to the HQ in Bella Vista, wondering how this could have happened and why this trap seems to grab hold of so many people in his profession.

But then a thought arises to him, why not seek advice and share his experiences with similar folks, why not try to help the others to reject the house cleaning them out, how to handle their frustrations, anger and self-image. He knows there is only one thing to do... Find some run down location (we cannot afford much anyways) and leave so notes on the backside of the casino door with the address, he quickly writes a note and sticks it on the dumpster facing the backalley of the casino

Are you tired of being cleaned out by the house, do you have issues with gambling and seem to never break the cycle, does your family lead or capo's get on your ass all the time for paying taxes late, come to:

Cobbler Alley 37

21123 Las Vegas

Sunday - 3pm

As he sticks the paper he nods to the desolate looking folks scrambling out of the alley, looking like ruin and end of their lives are bound to happen

A few days later Thomas starts to set up for the meeting, a couple of chairs, a blackboard, some sheets of paper.

He also glances quickly over his prep work, e.g. speeches from his ancestors and stories they tell about gambling and stresslevels related to them. His own summary of his casino experience, some motivational speakers advise he heard in both his home country and since he arrived, yes yes all is there. He hopes people will show up, people not afraid to shed the shrouds of anonymity and not too ashamed to admit their gambling addiction.

He walks to the door and opens it, peaking around the corner to see if anyone is there, but seeing it is only 1pm, 2 hours ahead of the time on his note he sits down, brews some coffee from the sink with rather brown looking water and lights a cigarette and waits lost in deep thoughts about how this day could go