Mugman Casino Cups Novels & Stories

Not superheroes as we have already established but, I bet they’d raise a couple eyebrows …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. 1829 "Is he yours?" The obese, but well-dressed man inquired, glancing at the shaky figure holding a tray beside him. "Why yes Connor. Not too expensive either. Cost just 30 for that one, and 50 for this one", he said grabbing the poorly dressed woman beside him a little closer to himself, making her sigh in discomfort. "Impressive, I must say. Get me another mug of rum now" he said, without even looking at the dark-skinned male beside him.

“It works fine. I just have to jiggle it a little.” He exhaled like I’d personally offended his ancestors. I poured the juice into two chipped mugs and handed him one. He held it like it was radioactive. “Hazel.” “What?” “This mug says ‘World’s Best Grandma’ on it.” I looked him dead in the eye, “can you fucking shut it ?” He snorted and sipped it anyway, then made a face. We clinked mugs and I swear, he still looked around like he was waiting to get tetanus.

Cage was the only person who had ever tried to treat me right in Maslow High School. Next, we decided to play beer pongs. A game where plastic cups were arranged on the table and drinks poured in each and everyone of them, then a ping pong ball was used to aim for the cups. If a person threw a ball and it fit into a cup, that was a win and the opposite team would have to drink one tot of beer or whiskey. If they failed to get the ball into a cup, then they had to drink it.

Murong Cheng led her to the other side, "The weather has been too cold lately, it's too aggravating to go outdoors, let's amuse ourselves here today." Passing a waiter, Murong Cheng took two drinks from the tray, taking one for himself and handing one to Mu Zi. The music around them was high-pitched and loud, and every now and then the sound of a wonderful jackpot echoed in their ears, even if it was only the most common slot machines, they were all filled with people. Even the most common slot machines were filled with people. The entire casino was overcrowded, while the amusement hall was a bit quieter. Of course, quiet was only relative, Mu Zi still felt noisy and didn't understand what t

A ridiculous combo if you ask me, but no one asked me, so here we are. Jesper spreads his arms wide like some referee about to officiate the Olympics. “Okay, everyone knows the drill. Ten cups, pyramid, center of the table. Only, tonight it’s not beer.” He lifts a shot glass filled with the suspicious neon liquid Cam whipped up earlier. “It’s Cam’s Delight.” The table groans. Cam beams, positively glowing now. “Don’t all look so excited at once.”

Exchanging shuts as they both landed a cup on each other sides, it falls to the corner beside his. “Yes!” silently claiming her reward and just a second to celebrate before anyone could notice. Andrea carefully observes Sky drinking the specifically wanted cup she wanted to be nailed by Clay which it did. “Sorry, Sky.” Apologizing by the air as she sends the signal calling Bea’s phone, Clay and Sky simultaneously throw a shut landing on the winning cups on each side. In a split second to the ever-heated rabble around them, gulping the cup and slamming it on the table, all the lights went out. “What’s…” gasping as a sudden turn shut their eyes, she almost jumps out, ready to scream as a hand

The air smelled like leather and fresh money. A man in a nice shirt sat at a table. He looked professional, like a real businessman, not someone working in a strip club. Glasses on his nose. Clean haircut. He smiled when we walked in. “Sit,” he said, motioning to a chair. “We have an underground casino here, you know. You won’t believe what people keep as collateral. Houses. Cars. Even boats sometimes. But what can I do for you today?” The smoker guy poured a glass of wine and handed it to me. The liquid was dark red, swirling in the fancy glass. I stared at it, suspicious. My throat felt dry, but I remembered the last time I took free wine. It ended with me in prison clothes.

I couldn't believe the loud-mouthed, arrogant girl was the daughter of this man. "Look, I have no interest in killing you but you might be interested in my offer to get back your daughter and you don't have to gamble." I ringed for two shots of the strongest gin, they were in small tiny glass cups, ten each, for us both. "if you drink the entire ten without getting passing out, I'll give you half my property and of course my casino." He ignited a glimmer of hope as he adjusted his cup, filled up to the brim. We both began drinking, and by his second glass, he wrestled with the urge to get high. I refrained from touching my cup, observing him closely.

He nods to the minion, who retreats to a wall and stands, legs akimbo, hands clasped, watching the flow of people in and out. We stroll through a main hall buzzing with activity. Roulette wheels and card tables fill the room, with a single giant display filling one wall with some on-line poker game. A scrolling display announces jackpots. Dice rattle, cards slap down and chips click. Security cameras dot the walls, several aimed at the glass-and-wire-fronted cash counter. And everywhere there are people; rowdy, laughing, silent and intent; or raucous and drunk; all cueing up to give Vince Caproni their money.

I could see the grin she directed at Jace, and her tongue occasionally moistened the small piece of metal that circled the corner of her bottom lip. "You can shut your mouth, let's just prove it," Jace replied with determination. "Alright, I guess you're ready. So, whoever loses in each gulp of the bottle will have to remove anything sticking to their body," Megan explained, making me look at her in surprise. I certainly needed an explanation—what kind of game was I getting myself into? I turned to my club members, hoping that one of them might step in for me, even though Megan probably wouldn't allow it.