Wednesday, March 04, 2009
A loose-kneed ramble took him to the reserved baccarat seat where he ogled the dealer's cleavage and pushed a stack of chips forward. Tonight's gig would replace the investors' funds before the avengers struck, but this time the chips disappeared as if down a black hole and he was into the house money. It wasn't until he saw the FBI badge thrust in front on him that he knew genuine fear.
Thanks to ThomG for the Three Word Wednesday Prompt: avenge, ramble and genuine.
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