Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - 3 Casino Heist Horror Stories

Episode Date: August 3, 2022

🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎧 Check out my true crime podcast called Crimehub on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or Amazon Music. 🎥 YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep ✅ Send all advertising inquiries to: [e-mail] Author: Jordan Grupe Check out more of his work here: https://www.reddit.com/user/Jgrupe/ DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Lazang sur-gillet, Puisance-Moyerned 15 minutes. Oh, you'd say that's the Dojo? Prere to play! Vive the pleasure with Leo Jo! The casino in-line

that proposes the most recent machine-a-sou and the game of casino in direct. Profite of 50 tours on Big Bas Bonanza, without any exigance of money,

and with the payments instantane. Hey! I've gained! Woohoo! Scentire the pleasure! Play-Ojo 18-10 and plus,

1-Depos only depots in Ontario. 50 tours on the machine-a-Bass Bonanza. Depos minimum of $10 $10 dollars. Veil to pay the way responsible.

The conditions apply. When Mikey first came to me and told me what he wanted to do, I thought he'd lost his mind. Nobody robs a casino in real life. Not unless they want to go to prison. Even in the movies, people don't get away with it. But the more he talked about it, showing me his blueprints and plans,

the more I realized, he had been thinking about this for a long, long time. And his idea was ingenious. If executed correctly, there would be a very good chance at safety and a clean getaway. He had a man on the inside who had revealed to him the weaknesses in the casino security systems. Still, I imagined there were plenty of factors he hadn't accounted for. That's why I came to you, he said when I pointed that out.

You're the engineer in the family. How would you like to retire at 40, Brian? We'd be so rich. You'd never have to work another day in your life at that soul-crushing job you're always. complaining about. Not only that, but this is our chance to make history. That part got me. Don't ask me why. The whole thing felt like a challenge to my analytical mind which I couldn't deny. The feat of surpassing a casino security system would be talked about for decades, perhaps even centuries. Books would be written about it. Movies would be made and podcasts would explore the

theories on how it was accomplished. All right, I'm in. I finally told him after several days' consideration. But if things start to go sideways, promise me you'll put a stop to this. I don't want to see either one of us in prison. He just smiled, saying that wasn't going to happen. And he was right. What ended up happening was much worse.

While Mikey worked to assemble a team, I set about doing my end of things. There were so many unknowns right from the start. But the gears were turning in my head, and I was already starting to think of solutions to our problems. As an engineer, that's what I do, and I'm damn good at it. Measurements needed to be taken, first of all, to get even the most basic layout and understanding of where we were going to be excavating. Otherwise, we might drill up through the floor of the security office instead of the casino vault. The problem was, you couldn't just go into the casino with a tape measure and start taking no. I had to get creative.

One morning, after making a series of initial measurements, I painted a white line on my bicycle tire, then rode around the outside of the casino counting the revolutions of my wheel. By the end of the day, using these measurements and the information from Mikey's man on the inside, we had our exact coordinates for the vault. Pretty clever, right? The next step was establishing a base camp and a drilling location. Mikey helped me scout nearby buildings that were for rent or lease, and we found one which was ideal, in an old warehouse a few blocks away from the casino.

Using a dummy corporation Mikey had set up, we rented the place and began to dig. Little by little, I made my way into the nearby sewer system. From there, we'd make another hole which would lead into the vault. The sewers would act as our escape route, allowing us to evade the police and pop up a few blocks away right beside the getaway vehicle. One morning, Mikey told me he had finished assembling the crew. We got together at the rented building to discuss our plans and went over the operation.

There was Dave, the street racer. He had a reputation for fast driving, quick instincts, and a long resume as a getaway man. He could drift with the best of them and routinely won pink slips in late-night street races, acquiring cars which he then sold, to upgrade his own ride. Our lockman was none other than Slim Fingers Pete,

a notorious locksmith and Safecracker. After learning to pick locks from his father growing up, Pete owned his own locksmith and vault building business for 30 years. Eventually, though, he got tired of the low wages and rude customers and took up a life of crime. He began making a name for himself as a modern-day Robin Hood, stealing jewels, cash, and priceless artifacts from various rich neighborhoods around town.

But he dressed shabbily, and the rumor was he donated the stolen cash to charity. Who knew if that was really true, though? Lastly, we had our demolitions expert, C4 Cindy, as she was known around town, or as she preferred to be addressed, Cinder's. After two tours of duty, serving in the special forces, cinders was tossed out for insubordination,

given a dishonorable discharge, and sent packing from the military. This resulted in a lifelong vendetta from that day forward with every authority figure, especially if they were U.S. military. Still, she mostly wore camouflage and had a bright pink buzz cut. Every crew needed a comedian to ease the tension, and Cinders took on that role from day one, although she needed reminding sometimes to keep things serious when it mattered. The five of us sat around a table in front of a large chalkboard as Mikey began to lay out the

We were in our rented warehouse a few blocks from the casino, on the main level away from the sewer smell, which had taken over the basement. All thanks to my drilling. The stink was getting worse, spreading to the main level now. I got a few glares from the other team members who knew what I was up to down there. Still, it was all a necessary part of the plan. All right, eyes up front, everybody. I know the smell is a distraction, but I'm going over the operation with you all to. together for the first time. So just listen and save your questions for the end.

Yes, teacher, if we listen well, can we have outdoors time after this? Cenders asked, sarcastically, leaning forward and putting her chin in her hands like a precocious child. Cenders, if you want to get to blow something up, you better start taking this seriously. I am, she pouted. But then, after seeing his dead set expression, she relaxed her posture, leaned back, and spoke in her grown-up voice. Okay, fine, I'm listening. Mikey took a deep breath and steeled himself for the grand unveiling. I was the only one in the room who knew all the details

since he'd practiced this presentation with me the night before. Right. Now, this plan is a bit complex, so bear with me. Dave, your job is going to be the simplest. Monday at 0400 hours, you're going to be parked on the east side of Park Street. Six blocks from the casino. The vehicle you acquire needs to be big enough to seat all five of us. Plus, we're going to need cargo space and room for the cash. So I'm thinking of something like a work van, preferably discreet,

white in color with no markings. Great. So you want me to steal a boring, slow piece of shit? He muttered, grinning. Yeah, no problem. Boring and slow means the cops aren't going to notice it. So that's perfect, Dave. We all waited for him to continue.

And he looked at the chalkboard and started to write things out and draw diagrams, expanding on the execution of the plan. Pete Cenders and I will be down in the sewers. Brian will be up on street level with the police scanner, keeping an eye on the front of the casino, and keeping in touch with our man on the inside. All of this will guarantee that if someone finds out what we're doing, we'll get plenty of notice so we can escape. Everyone glared at me, hearing that I would be safely up on street level while they were down in the sewers getting their hands dirty. Brian has been the one in the sewer, drilling and doing all the hard, dangerous work up until now. So that's part of the reason he gets to be on lookout duty, which comes with its own risks as well. Anybody got a problem with that?

Mikey, the undisputed leader of the group, looked around at the others, sensing this shift in the room. It would have been easy to read into it as nepotism, but the three of them softened a few seconds later, and Cinder smiled, laughing out loud. Hell, no wonder you stink so bad, Brian. I feel sorry for you, having to deal with Dave's nasty shits down in the sewers. That eased the tension, and everybody laughed. Okay, okay, settle down. Let's get through this. Then we can make fun of Dave more afterwards.

And you can tell me your concerns. You got it, boss. Cinder said, doing a sarcastic military salute. Here's the part you're going to like, Cenders. You're going to blow a big ass hole in the bottom of the vault. Then we're going to use a rope ladder devised by Brian to climb in. I stood up to show them the prototype I'd designed, holding the nondescript cylinder in my hands.

One person will hold a remote, while the other throws this up into the hole. Once it's inside the vault, the person with a remote will hit the button to engage the stabilizer bar. Demonstrating how it worked, I hit a red button on the remote control, and the thing expanded instantly like a two-ended lightsaber made of steel. It's kind of heavy, so just watch out that it doesn't fall on you. It might take a few attempts to throw it up through the hole, but it's doable. Whoever wants to be the one making the throw will have plenty of time to practice. My hands are as sure as they come, said Pete.

I'll toss it up through the gap on the first go, practice or no practice. Let's go with a bit of practice just to be safe, Mikey said, continuing with the plan. Once we're all up in the vault, we'll only have a few minutes. Pete, you'll go up first and get started on the lockboxes, cinders. You'll be doing the same on the other end of the vault using controlled explosives. But whatever you do, you have to keep it quiet. Aw, so no big booms? She protested, stomping her feet on the floor a few times, going back to her childish alter ego.

No big booms, only little miniature booms. But you can blow up as much as you want afterwards. A couple million dollars will buy you a lot of explosives. Trust me. Cinder smiled, looking off wistfully. What if someone hears something and comes in to investigate? I asked, playing devil's advocate. Mikey and I had gone over this before, so I knew he had a great plan.

I just wanted to prove it to everyone else. That's the best part. There's going to be a fire alarm test happening at the same time, so nobody will be able to hear anything through the thick steel door. And if they do, our guy on the inside will be in charge of the cameras. So he'll just tell them everything looks fine and not to be worried. A fake camera loop will be playing the whole time. So if anyone asks to see, he can show them. And what if that doesn't convince them?

Pete asked. What if they insist they want to see inside for themselves? Well, then we've got exactly four. minutes to clear out. That's how long it takes to open the vault. And by then we'll be long gone and vanished into the maze of sewers beneath the casino." Everyone nodded, and Mikey continued telling us the plan. But it was all straightforward after that. We all figured it would be challenging but manageable. What we didn't realize was that Mikey wasn't telling us the whole plan. I didn't even know what he was up to as much as I thought I did.

When the big day came, I was supposed to be sitting in front of the casino as the lookout man. But Mikey came down with the stomach bug, and he looked pale as a ghost after throwing up all night. He was shaky and on the verge of passing out every time he stood up. But he insisted on going ahead with the operation. I did what any big brother would do. I volunteered to switch places with him. You stay in the van, okay, Mikey? I'm the only one who knows this plan as well as you do.

and if you're going to insist on going through with this today, then I'm going to insist on you staying in the van and being the lookout. He reluctantly agreed, and that was how I ended up being the one down in the sewers, standing alongside cinders and peat. The three of us watched through our protective goggles as the ultra-bright white light burned a hole clean through the steel. Molten metal dripped down, bright red,

burning a hole in the cement by our feet. I took a step back, Cinder's looked at me and laughed, the liquid steel splashing just inches away from her toes, reflecting red in her welding goggles. Careful, Brian, she said grinning. The floor is lava. After a hole had been burnt through the steel, Cinder sprayed the blackened edges with foam to cool them down for our entrance.

Then Pete took the steel contraption I'd designed and threw it up through the hole, with just enough gentle spin so that it turned sideways at the peak of his toss. Then I hit the red button on the remote control, engaging the anchors. A steel rod shot out of either end of the cylinder, locking the device in place. I hit another button, and the rope ladder which was concealed inside popped out, unraveling until it reached the floor. Nice throw, Pete, I said, clapping our locksmith on the back. Hey, nice work yourself.

That's one hell of a contraption. I might need to borrow it for my next job. Cinders began climbing up the ladder. and I followed after her into the sound of the ringing fire alarm. So far the plan was going perfectly, and there was no sign of anyone having heard our entrance. After this, you might not need to do any more jobs, Pete. Once we got up into the vault,

the three of us began to giggle softly, like children in a toy store. There was a stack of cash at the center of the vault, far surpassing anything we could have imagined. There had to be tens of millions of dollars, if not more. Forget the lockboxes, Pete said over the alarms. This is more than we need. Let's take it and get the hell out of here. This is where things started getting weird.

I agreed with Pete that the lockboxes weren't worth the trouble with a huge pile of cash sitting there. But Cinder's didn't say anything. Instead, she went into a corner and started quietly pulling things out of her demolition bag. What are you doing, Cinders? Help us load up the cash. She just ignored me, starting to get me. to set small explosives on a few of the lockbox doors. They were lined up on one wall, like safety deposit boxes in a bank vault. Cinders! We don't need to risk the explosions. We've got more than enough right here.

But she kept ignoring me. Instead, she just attached some cable to the small explosives on the lockbox doors and unwound the spool of it, stepping away from them. Let her work. Mikey said into my earpiece. You get the money. Let her do her thing. A small explosion went off a few seconds later in the room filled with a small, hazy cloud of white smoke. I shot a look over my shoulder, burrowing my brow. It didn't make sense. Why were they taking this unnecessary risk?

Unless they knew something I didn't. I didn't have time to stay distracted. So I kept piling money into the bags we had brought, throwing them down into the sewers below. We were nearly half-finished. Shit, somebody heard that. Mikey said in my earpiece. You guys need to get out of there.

My guy can't stop them. They're coming in now. The noise came from the vault door, like a large steel plate being turned. Damn it, Cenders! She was still ignoring me, pulling something out of one of the lockboxes. I filled one more bag and then told Pete to start heading down the ladder. We were leaving a lot of cash behind. I went over to Cenders and tapped her on the shoulder. You just screwed up this whole heist.

What the hell were you thinking? I told you to leave the lockboxes a lot. alone. Instead of turning around, she kept staring at the thing in her hand, a vial full of green liquid which she had extracted from the lockbox. I noticed a cut on Cinder's finger from where a piece of broken glass had pierced her skin, and then I saw the green liquid dripping from her hand. The vial had cracked in the explosion, and whatever was inside of it was now seeping into Cinder's bloodstream. Cinders, are you okay? I think you should put that down. We don't know what that is. surprise. She actually listened to me. With her finger shaking badly, she set the vial of diminishing

green liquid back into the lockbox, and a little puddle began to form beneath it. I know what it is, Brian. I've known all along. That's the whole reason I agreed to this heist. Someone paid me to extract that vial from this safe. The same person who paid your brother to set this all up. Do you really think he just happened to have a man on the inside? And you think he just coincidentally got sick today? No. He was scared. Scared of this shit. He didn't want to risk his life.

This was all beginning to upset me. I could feel my blood boiling. What the hell are you talking about, Cinders? My brother would never set me up. Mikey? Tell her. There was a deep sigh in my earpiece. As my brother hesitated.

It wasn't supposed to break. Dirty enough to survive a natural disaster. This was never supposed to happen. The vault door was unlocking. And I realized we had wasted too much time. I began to hustle back towards the ladder, telling cinders to leave the vial behind. When she turned around, I didn't like what I saw. Purple black veins spread inwards from the periphery of her eyes. Her pupils were turning crimson as she opened her mouth and drool

began to pour out from her lower lip. She growled, making a low sound in her throat like a dog. Her eyes were fixed on me as I backed away. But then the vault door opened and all Hell broke loose. A few security guards drew their pistols as they entered, fanning out and moving towards the two of us. I had my foot on the ladder and was about to climb down when the closest one persuaded me to stop. Freeze! Don't move! yelled at me. His pistol pointed in my face. Without many other options, I raised my hands in submission. It looked as if our flawless plan had failed. The guard came over to me with handcuffs at the ready, but Cinder's wasn't responding to the other guards as well as I was.

Hey, I said, get your hands in the air, lady. I'm not going to ask you again. Suddenly, she raced towards one of the men, growling and drooling as she ran. They screamed at her to stop, but she seemed not to hear. Instead, lunging at them like a rabid dog as he squeezed the trigger. No, no! He held as his gun discharged into the air over and over. His shots wild and aimless.

The bullets began to ricocheting around the vault. One of them hitting the security guard closest to me. He dropped his gun, yelping in pain as he grabbed his shoulder. What the hell, dance! He yelled. Then saw what was happening and raced over to assist the other two guards. Cinders quickly turned her attention to them, raking her nails across one guard's face,

scratching his eyes and blinding him at one rapid motion. Then she swept her other hand across his face from the other direction, alternating hands and scratching at his face over and over again. a frenzied attack. By the end of it, he was in a shuddering heap on the floor, bleeding out. The guard who had been closest to me was the only one of the three left, and he started firing his gun at her without any further warning. Bullets hit cinders square in the chest, in the rib cage, in the neck, and in her shoulder. But she made no response. Instead, she leapt onto him like a tiger. Her teeth sunk into his neck, ripping out his throat in

one quick bite. He pushed and clawed at her face desperately, gurgling his blood bubbled up from the wound, his skin turning paler. That was about when I realized I hadn't been moving. I needed to get away, or I would be next. I started climbing down the ladder, my eyes darting around the vault room as I went, taking a final look around at the chaos. Just before the room disappeared from my view, I saw one of the dead security guards' eyes snap open, purple black veins spreading inwards from the edges of his eyes, towards his crimson red pupils. With startling speed, he rose to his feet and came running my way. I stumbled down the rope ladder two and three rungs at a time, too scared to move safely.

My heart was pounding fast as my feet slipped, and I slid down the rest of the way, landing badly on my ankle and rolling it. I cried out, looking up at the hole to see if anyone was coming. Instead of climbing down, the security guard fell down through the blasted hole in the vault floor, landing on the cement sewer floor with a hard crack, his leg, breaking in half. A bone was jutting out through one side in a sharp splinter, but this didn't stop him.

He got up and began to lurch and hop towards me, dragging his splinted femur and clawing desperately at the air just in front of me as I backed away. I got to my feet and started running, the adrenaline numbing the pain of my hurt ankle, but not entirely. Each step was agonies I raced to catch up with Pete, who was already 100 yards down the,

the tunnel. Eventually he stopped and waited for me to catch up, sense him that I was injured. What the hell happened back there? Where's Cinder's? He asked, looking wildly over my shoulder. Run! I screamed. Forget Cinders! She's dead! They're all dead! This only seemed to confuse him further, and he stared where he was as I ran past him, grabbing his arm and telling him to keep moving. What are you talking about? She can't be dead. I just saw her. We can't just leave her in there. I didn't bother arguing with him any further. Just then, cinders appeared out of the darkness behind him, racing tortoise with her red and purple eyes ablaze with hunger. Spittle clung to her face and dribbled down her chin, her teeth snapping like a rabid dog as she ran like an Olympic sprinter straight at us.

Several infected guards were behind her, trailing slowly compared to her speed. They were injured from her attacks and from their fall down the ladder, but she was healthy and full of inhuman speed thanks to whatever was in that vial. It was making her fast and mean, homicidal. I couldn't help but stare in terrified fascination as she leapt onto Pete and dove face first into his neck with her teeth snapping ferociously. Like a hungry stray dog after cornering a rabbit, there was no mercy or remorse, only terror and shrill screaming until the sounds of that cut off abruptly.

Blood sprayed into the air and gushed from his wounds onto the concrete and down into the sewer water. I stood transfixed, watching as she took. tore him to pieces. Eventually, I snapped out of it and ran, leaving the bags of money behind, no longer caring about them at all, only wanting to get away, only wanting to run as far and as fast from that place as I could. The sound of footsteps behind me grew louder as the ladder came into focus in the distance. I tried not to look back over my shoulder, knowing that would only waste precious seconds, but I couldn't help it. I glanced back to see Cinder's was in

pursuit, trailing close behind me and gaining fast. I didn't stand a chance of making it to the ladder before she got to me. I realized that, but continued to run, too terrified to give up. I heard someone screamed from up ahead and looked to see a dim light above the ladder where the manhole cover had been opened. Someone was standing in the sewers up ahead, aiming a gun in my direction. It was my little brother, Mikey. I kept running until I was close enough for him to get a proper shot off, then I ducked out of the way, just as the explosion of his gun reverberated through the sewers. He shot Cinder's again and again, each time hitting her square in the chest, and yet she kept coming. He shot her three more times, finally landing a shot on her right temple, stunning her.

Cinder's collapsed to the ground, a bleeding hole in the side of her head exposing her skull. I started running towards Mikey again, and a moment later she was up on her feet, moving marginally slower now. Let's go! Mikey screamed. Get up the ladder! Do you have it? Do you have the vial? I started climbing the ladder, shouting down at him.

No, the vial broke. It's gone. Just forget about it and let's get out of here. Continuing up the ladder, I thought he was following me. But when I got to the top, I climbed out and looked down to see he was still in there, in the sewers, staring up at me. What are you doing, Mikey? We gotta go.

Get up here. He led out a deep sigh, looking remorseful. You guys got to go. Get far away. the city no matter what you do just run away and don't look back they'll be coming for you but they'll be coming for me first and pretty soon we're all going to have much bigger things to worry about what are you talking about mikey come up here please i realized i was crying as i looked down at him in the darkness my tears dripping down to land at his feet he looked straight ahead and began to fire his pistol

again and again letting out a hell in war cry but then an instant later an undidly Ned Cinders dove into him and brought him to the ground. Dave had to get out of the van and put the manhole cover back on, sealing the scene beneath the ground. I wasn't able to tear my eyes away from what I was seeing down there. My younger brother was getting ripped to pieces by a zombie who would have thought. Dave dragged me into the van and drove away from there. He seemed to know what was happening,

as if Mikey had led him and Cinders in on the secret. I'll never forgive him for that for as long as I live. I don't think that will be very long though. I don't think any of us have much time left. And I'm talking about humanity in general. A new virus is spreading in the sewers beneath Las Vegas, and it's only a matter of time before it surfaces again. And when it does, it won't matter how far we run.

It'll be coming for us all. Las Vegas was swarming with zombies ever since the apocalypse. As our helicopter swooped in low over the strip, I saw things had not improved in recent months. Boards of decomposing bodies were pressed up against each other in places. Crowds of them defying the laws of nature as they remained moving and moaning, shuffling aimlessly around the town. The rumor was that the party kicked off right here in Sin City.

After the virus ravaged it like every other major metropolis on earth, nobody was brave or stupid enough to risk going in there again. At least, not until now. We had received reliable intel that the CEO of Proteon, the megacorporation responsible for the virus, had hidden an antidote inside the vault of the MGM Grand Casino. That made sense, since casino vaults tended to be far more secure than bank vaults, and the people who owned those places didn't ask questions, as long as clients paid their exorbitant fees.

So it seemed possible that the intel was correct. And if it was, that meant a potential cure, or at the very least, a vaccine that we could replicate in our labs. There would be no more fear of zombie bites with a vaccine in circulation. We would essentially become immune, as long as our chemists could recreate the formula. The only problem was nobody could access the casino vault without going through a horde of zombies, a million rotting bodies deep.

And it's kind of hard to crack a safe under that sort of pressure, much less a high-tech casino vault. Goals were roaming the Las Vegas strip in droves. They never rested, and they never slept, just waiting for fresh meat to arrive, and instantly pouncing on anyone who set foot in their territory. Now we were about to invade their city. and none of us felt comfortable with that idea. One thing we did have going for us was the fact that our organization,

International Ghoul Hunters, Operation Roundtable, or Ighor, for short, had access to a few pilots who still knew how to fly a helicopter. This meant we had a way in and out without having to fight our way through the city streets, which were overrun by undead. But we would need to be careful, and more than one of us could die during the operation. We were well aware of that.

We're coming in hot. I want everyone locked and loaded, announced the leader of the squad, Lieutenant Breem, hefting his M134 mini-gun into his lap. A trail of bullets was feeding into it from a coil on his back, which would allow him to fire approximately 2,000 rounds per minute if he so desired. I'd rigged up the mechanism myself. The huge casino building loomed large up ahead, amidst the smoldering rubble that had once been the Las Vegas Strip. I had been to the city once before, when the world was still alive, and it was odd to see the place at night now.

The bright neon fluorescence which the town was so well known for were dim and lifeless. The billboards and casinos were just dark silhouettes against a backdrop of desert and stars. As our pilot touched down on the casino's roof, the group of us climbed out of the helicopter, proceeding in a tight formation towards the door, which led into the stairwell. The chopper took off, leaving us alone to fight our way down towards the basement. All of the elevators would be out of commission, which meant we would be taking the stairs. And who knew what we would find during our descent? We made our way down, finding it mostly clear except for a few stragglers.

This made sense. Zombies are lazy, and they tend to move downhill. Still, we knew our luck would run out very quickly, as the place would be packed on the lower levels. We'd been through scenarios like this before. We were the best of the best that Igoor had to offer, and each of us had nerves of steel. At the front of the pack was our squad leader, Lieutenant Breem.

Long before the zombie apocalypse, Brem had been deep in the shit. He served in Afghanistan and Iraq, then Ukraine, China, and all over the Western Hemisphere during the first few years of World War III. His greatest asset was his ability to come up with alternative plans on the fly.

And that's what he did as we came face to face with a crowd of zombies just before the basement where we needed to exit the stairwell. The horde of them raced up towards us in a mob which trailed down for several floors. My heart skipped a beat as I spun around and hurried back up to the main level. We were forced to flee from the confines of the stairwell and wound up on the zombie-infested casino floor.

Dozens of ghouls were in close proximity, and Breen immediately began to let loose with his mini-gun, firing a barrage of bullets which killed every walker in sight, but also drew more out of hiding. He cut those ones down too, so that none of us had to fire a shot, at least not. At least, not yet. Next in the line of command for our operation, there was Cassie. She was the navigator for the mission and had her maps for the casino in her hands, tracing escape routes with her fingers. This way, she told us, pointing towards another hallway leading out of the gaming area.

The whole place was a wreck. Blackjack tables were flipped over and slot machines toppled. Dead bodies were everywhere, many of them still moving. amidst piles of looted chips and cash, which littered the casino floor. A green sign mounted on the wall indicated there was another set of stairs, and we broke into a run. My weapons of choice were a pair of dual pistols. I raised them to zombie eye level and unleashed a hail of bullets

which exploded the skulls of several ghouls nearby as we raised past. One managed to grab hold of my arm, raking its nails across my flesh, Its open mouth was inches away from my neck when I felt a spray of cold blood land on my face. Cassie had incapacitated the zombie with her sword through its skull and was wiping the blade clean on her pants. She winked at me and we rushed to catch up with the others, having momentarily fallen behind.

Frank was the tank of our group, throwing zombies out of the way with his bare hands and hefting a razor-sharp, double-sided axe which he swarmed around his head. He was a seven-foot-tall mountain of muscle who could break down almost any door, and if he couldn't go through it, he'd go through the wall next to it instead. In typical Frank fashion, he broke down the locked door to the employee's stairwell with his shoulder, and we found with great relief that it was empty.

Since this was a staff entrance, it was less frequently used, and that was perfect for us. We bolted down to the lowest level with only a few dozen undead casino employees, employees trying to eat our flesh along the way. Finally, after cutting down countless ghouls, we made it to the vault room. It was behind a series of locked doors, which was less than perfect, since we were still being trailed by a group of walkers from the gaming floor who had followed us through the broken door. Lamar, our technical expert, went to work on the first door which had a numbered keypad beside

he pried the faceplate off the panel, revealing wires underneath. He began stripping these quickly, his face beating with sweat as the rest of us fought off a fresh group of undead in the narrow corridor. Our ammunition was almost depleted, so we resorted to our hand-to-hand weapons instead. I took out my katana and Breen produced a collapsible spear, thrusting it into the own slot of attackers. After several harrowing minutes, I heard a click from behind me and turned around as another group of zombies came around the corner. I'm in! Amar yelled a second later. We all followed him inside and locked the door behind us,

just as the rotted corpses began to jiggle the handle from outside. This hallway was empty, thankfully, but there was still a smell pervading the place. Not the typical dead body smell we were used to either. This was something else. The group of us continued up the short hallway towards another thick steel door. Past that was the vault, and we would finally be at our goal. Surprisingly, this next door opened easily, as if unlocked. Lamar made a soft whistling sound as he pushed it open, looking inside.

What in the name of... We read it our weapons as he trailed off. Well, at least it's not walkers. Come on, you guys gotta see this. We entered the antechamber of the vault, seeing that the huge safe door was open. It looked as if something terrible had happened here, inside this room. There was blood everywhere. The interior of the vault was blackened from an explosion,

multiple explosions by the looks of it, and there was a huge hole in the floor where it looked as if a bomb had gone off. What the hell is all this? Green muttered, walking into the vault. Piles of cash were still sitting at its center. Once upon a time, it would have meant a lot to me, seeing all that money. But now it just looked like green, useless paper. Is it possible, something?

someone beat us to the punch? Cassie asked, looking at Bream. Maybe it's true what they say. Maybe this really is where it all started. I have a growing suspicion, that's right. But if they kept the virus here, maybe they kept the antidote in here too. Lamar took a hesitant step backwards, hearing that the original virus could have been stored in this room. Do you think it's safe?

Bream thought about this for a second before shaking his head. I don't know. it might not be. The group of us stood there silently for a few seconds, considering our options. Ah, screw it! Cassie said finally, throwing up her hands. We came this far. I'm going in. If I turn into a walker, shoot me in the back of the head, will you? Wait, hold on. Frank yelled, hurrying after her. The two of them entered the vault and began to look around. Frank zoned in on one section where a bomb had blown the doors off several

lockboxes. What's this green shit? He mumbled, pulling his hand back after touching one of them. Careful, Frank! I yelled, alarm bells ringing in my head. There's a vial here. This could be it. Maybe it's the antidote.

Ow, damn broken glass. The sound from behind is caught my attention, and I looked back over my shoulder in surprise to see the door collapsing inwards from where we'd entered. Dozens of zombies pressed up against one another, forcing themselves through the door, their rotten skin bulging and sloughing away where it met resistance. We've got company! yelled Brin, wheeling around and beginning to thrust his spear into the eye sockets of the advancing horde.

My katana made short work of a tall, lumbering Walker with a horse-like face. His large buck teeth appeared capable of devastating damage until his head hit the floor. Frank! No! Stop! I heard Cassie screaming from the vault and turned to look. Just in time to see Frank take her head between his hands and pull it from her shoulders like a bully removing a Barbie head. A fountain of blood erupted from her neck as her body collapsed backwards, and Frank took a large bite from her face.

His eyes were clouded with purple veins, reflecting red light back at me. Shit, Frank's infect! Lamar began saying, then his words were cut short and devolved into a burbling gurgle as a walker tore out his throat with its yellow teeth. He clutched the wound as his skin turned paler, falling to the ground. Shit, looks like it's just you and me, kid, Ream said, his eyes darting around at the encroaching horn.

Think we stand a chance? I asked, noting the fear in his eyes. I'd never seen the lieutenant scare. He just shook his head as he raised his spear. Nope, but let's take as many of them to hell with us as we can. Sound like a plan? I nodded, and as I did, something caught my attention. out of the corner of my eye. A glint of shiny chrome within the vault, in the center of that blackened hole on the floor. For some reason, I thought I saw something dangling from it,

like a rope ladder leading down. Hang on, boss. We might not have to cash in our chips just yet. Green looked at me, thrusting his spear into the face of a nearby zombie without any effort. I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the vault, where zombie Frank was now moaning and shuffling towards us. His arms outstretched.

He groaned, a gutter of sound escaping his blood-stained lips. I got it! A sec, sidestepping his slowly reaching hands and leaping into the air to slice his face in half. The top part of his skull slid away like an anime cartoon, dropping to the floor with a wet, meaty plop. Blood sprayed everywhere, jetting from his arteries. I neared the hole, seeing that there was indeed a rope ladder leading down into the sewers. That was where that shit smell was coming from, I realized. Holy hell. Good job, kid. Breams said, seeing the hole. Get down that ladder. I'll hold them on. He thrust his spear out of the

approaching zombie horde with pinpoint strikes, like a Spartan warrior, perfectly weaponized for the purpose of destruction. I looked down at the rope ladder and began to climb into the sewers below. My feet landed in ankle-deep water, and I looked around in the darkness, hearing the grunts of effort from Bream up above me in the vault. A second later, he was climbing down too, and I waited for him before beginning to move deeper into the darkness. I heard his feet splashed down into the puddles, and we started running through the sewers, deeper into the black abyss, hoping it was safe, but not knowing for sure.

Zombies were climbing down after us, and falling into the sewer from the vault. We heard them pursuing us a second later. The two of us arrived at an intersection where four tunnels came together, and we looked around, trying to decide which way to go. A sound of movement came from the right, and then a foot splashed in the water to my left. From ahead, more noises, grunting and groaning, and the sounds of shuffling feet in the sewage. As my eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, I saw we were surrounded.

Hundreds of red eyes reflected the dim light all around us. Breen led out a deep sigh from behind me. Okay, now we're going to die, he said simply. Here, let me help you out. His spear came through my jaw a second later, and I felt an instant of pain before it went through my skull, killing me instantly. In death, I can't help but feel a deep gratitude.

I only wish I could have returned the favor. There's something else here now. Something new. From, exclusively on Paramount Plus, it's the series Stephen King calls Scarious Hell. Everything here is impossible, but it's also a new. real. Sci-Fi vision calls it the best show

streaming right now. We're running out of time and we still don't know the rules. Don't miss what the movie blog calls something you need to watch. Saving those children is how we all go home.

From Binge All Episodes exclusively on Paramount Plus. The air was dry inside the coach bus. Recirculated a thousand times during our journey to the casino from the retirement home. There was something about

getting older that made everything in my feel dehumidified, as if my body were slowly losing the ability to absorb and retain moisture. I hated it. Muriel, do you have any hard candy I can borrow? My throat is parched. The white-haired woman in the seat in front of me turned around, smiling sweetly as she rummaged through her oversized purse. It was full of miscellaneous items, and I was pretty sure a peppermint candy would be in there somewhere. She was always good for a fix. Here you go, Harry. You can keep it. She laughed as she handed me a Kleenex wrapped red and white candy. I took it and thanked her, struggling to remove the tissue from it with my dry,

arthritic fingers. After what felt like hours, I popped it into my mouth. Ah, that felt better already. The PA system clicked on and a hiss of feedback came out of the speaker above us. said the bus driver's baritone voice. The casino was coming up on our right, and I looked out the window at the huge building with its flashing neon signs. Massive blue tridents flanked the entrance and loomed over us ominously.

None of us got out much anymore these days, and I had to admit I was a little nervous. Our large group got off the bus and entered the ocean-themed interior of the casino. There were ladies walking around, dressed as mermaids with elaborate jewels and blue hair, carrying trays with drinks on them. Waves were painted on the walls with maritime scenes. Fish tanks were all over the place, filled with kelp and colorful aquatic life,

ranging from fish to octopus to crab and other crustaceans. All of us looked around, taking in the scenery as we walked slowly with our canes, and rolled forward in wheelchairs. The stronger ones among us, pushing the others in their chairs. Brian was the most able-bodied person in our group. He had played professional football once upon a time, and the man was a gentle giant in his elder years.

Although the frequent head trauma he'd experienced in those days had left him a little bit off. He still wore his bulky gold championship ring on one hand. Brian looked a little out of place amidst the group of us white and gray-haired geysers, since most of us were 20 years senior to him. But he was smiling and seemed to be enjoying himself as we walked through the brightly lit foyer towards the security desk. Loud voices were speaking all around, mingling with the sounds of dinging slot machines and whoops of excitement from the gaming tables just up ahead.

I was already finding it difficult to hear in this environment, and this was only a small, local casino. Reaching my fingers into my ear, I turned the hearing aid down a couple notches, and breathed a sigh of relief as the screeching wine of feedback dissipated. Welcome to Poseidon's bounty, said a large, valorous man in a black suit at the security desk, making no attempt to stop us.

You folks have a wonderful night. Best of luck to you. Ah, you're not going to ask to see my driver's license? Muriel asked, pinching the man's cheek. I'm disappointed. The security officer blushed, waving us through and laughing self-consciously. As the metal detectors went off, nobody said a thing. The walkers, canes, and wheelchairs were expected to cause that.

The gaming floor was up ahead, and the group of us went happily towards the bright lights and laughing voices, anxious for the night ahead of us. Who knew what might happen tonight? This place was full of possibilities. It was like being a kid again. With that thought in mind, I reached into Muriel's bag and pulled out the pump shotgun, racking a load into the chamber. This caught a few people's attention, and they gasped and looked up. I climbed up onto a nearby poker table. My bones creaked and cracked along the way.

Once I finally got up there, I blasted the shotgun, firing into the ceiling to catch the attention of anybody who hadn't noticed the gun. Everybody on the ground! Now, this is a sticker! Don't try to be a hero, and you'll live to see tomorrow. Most of the people in the small casino were so terrified and shocked by what was happening that they quickly did as they were told, diving to the floor when they saw the gang of us with our weapons drawn.

Meanwhile, the last few people in our group had incapacitated the guards at the security desk with stun guns and were tying them up, pointing pistols at their heads to ensure compliance. Muriel had pistol-wipped one of them, and blood was trickling from me. his forehead and rivulets. I heard a loud noise from my right and saw Brian was punching a security guard repeatedly in the face as the man tried to draw his revolver. His nose crunched beneath the big man's fist, crumpling into a flattened mash on his face. The guard spit out a few teeth, and I guess that he swallowed some as well, since they were all missing from his mouth when he gasped for air. Brian threw him into a heap on the floor, and all of the other nearer. And all of the other

nearby guards unclipped their gun belts, letting them drop to the ground. They raised their hands in the air, looking submissive after watching their co-worker get beat to a bloody pulp. Good decision, I said from on top of the table. Now, all of you, put your hands on your heads and get down on the ground. The guards complied, glancing at each other nervously. I looked around the game room to see almost everyone was following suit. except a group of guys in the slot machine section who were looking at us defiantly.

They appeared to be in their early 20s, that unfortunate age when you don't stop to consider the consequences before doing something stupid. They were whispering and looked as if they were getting ready to charge us. I already knew what they were up to, but I allowed them to continue. Secretly, though, I made a hand signal to rock. Robert and Brian, and I saw them disappear into the shadows as the young men came towards us, looking angry.

All right, Gramps, you come down from there right now and hand over your guns, he said, reaching into his pocket for something. I racked another round into the shotgun chamber and aimed it square at his head. Keep reaching into your pocket, and you're going to end up in worse shape than that guy, I said, darting my eyes towards the security guard, Brian. had incapacitated. He was still moaning and howling in pain, writhing on the ground, a pool of blood forming around his head on the carpet. This caused the man to hesitate momentarily as he stopped reaching into his pocket and put his hands in the air. His friends gradually followed

suit, looking at each other with uncertainty. That's better, I said, just as Brian and Robert came up behind them stealthily. knocking out their knees with their rifle butts and sending them screaming to the floor. Muriel, go see the teller for us, will you? We need to make a withdrawal. The white-haired woman laughed and blasted around into the air with her antique gun, causing ceiling tiles to come crumbling down from above, shattering a light fixture. She reloaded while walking over to the chip counter, pointing the barrel in the face of the young lady working behind. the cage.

Open up! She screamed. Her purse still dangling from one arm, and the door buzzed open a second later. I stayed where I was, keeping an eye on the guards at the door. A handful of our gang were soon invading the teller room and filling up their bags with huge volumes of cash.

We weren't here for the vault. That was a surefire way to wind up dead or in prison. This was a quick, in-out job. You don't realize who you're robbing, said a voice from the floor nearby. Who said that? I demanded, jumping down from the blackjack table. This is a really bad idea. You should all leave right now. Maybe then he won't kill you. There was a man in a black suit looking at me from the ground. His eyes hard and fearless. He was the pit boss, I was pretty sure. The guy who supervises the deal,

to make sure they're not stealing, and also watches to make sure the players aren't cheating. You got something to say, asshole? I demanded. Speak up. I can't hear you. The amphetamines at the center of the peppermint candy I was sucking on were just starting to kick in. And my heart was racing, my hands gripping the shotgun tightly. Damn that Muriel. She upped her game again. This is good shit. Just a friendly word of advice. for your group said the pit boss run now why you still can run fast and far leave the money behind and no matter what you do stay on dry land for some reason his words made me nervous I gulped down a lump in my throat as I thought about it all we'd researched this place

it didn't belong to the mafia or to a secret government-funded group at least as far as we could tell and our hacker my grandson was one of the best in the business even if he was still just a freshman in high school he'd know if the owner was dangerous hurry up muriel we might have a problem the group of them were finishing up and came running out of the teller room carrying huge sacks full of cash there were bills fluttering in the air everywhere and i heard sirens howling in the distance getting closer what the hell are you working worried about Harry, we can take care of the cops. It was a small town, and we had this planned out pretty well.

But I was starting to get the feeling we had missed something. Forget it. Let's just get out of here. We hustled out of the casino as quickly as we could, running with our walkers and sprinting while pushing wheelchairs. When we got outside, I could see the cops approaching in the distance, and I checked my watch. Their response time had been good. but we were ahead of schedule.

We'd get out of here with no issues. I was sure of it. The handicapped van pulled up to the curb, and I saw our driver was just on time, as usual. Stop in! yelled Wayne, a fat, spit-soaked cigar dangling from his lower lip. He was wearing his usual tan Air Force bomber jacket, stomping on the gas pedal,

and revving the engine impatiently. We all jumped into the back of the minibus and the tires screeched on the pavement as we peeled out. The police were only 100 yards away by the time we pulled out onto the road, leaving us just enough room to maneuver and pull off the key part of our plan. The buildings were close on both sides of the road as we raced towards the city limits. All of the cop cars were behind us, on route from the police station downtown, and we had nothing but clear roads ahead of us. However, the minibus was slow and was having trouble getting up to speed.

I looked back in the rearview mirror and saw the cops were gaining on us. Their engines roaring loudly as they inched closer from behind. Florid, Wayne, come on. I am Florida. This thing is a piece of shit. Wayne screamed, biting the cigar in half as he gritted his teeth in frustration. This isn't good. They're getting too close, Muriel said, looking nervous. The alley was coming up on the right, though, and I realized we would make it just in time. Let's hope their brakes work, I said, as we passed the alley and the huge coach bus began to emerge from it, blocking the road behind us.

Go, go, go, go! I yelled into the walkie-talkie in my hand. But of course, Jim was already on the ball. His timing was perfect as always. Just after we drove past the alley, the coach bus pulled out into the roadway, barricading it completely. Jim had remained on board after we had all gotten off the bus, then carjacked the coach, taking it for our purposes. The driver was tied up in the back. I heard horns honking and brakes screeching on the other side. Then a soft bang as a police car crashed.

into it with a dull impact. Then Jim came rushing out the door of the bus and got in the vehicle with us, laughing and cheering. As we drove away, I looked back over my shoulder, seeing the coach was perfectly serving its purpose as a roadblock, not allowing any of the cops to get by. And the best part was, this was the only way in or out of the city. The bridge came into view up ahead and not a single police car could be seen anywhere. We'd gotten away with everything, or so we thought. That night, we celebrated on Brian's yacht. We were popping champagne bottles and laughing, retelling the story of what had happened to those who had been responsible for our getaway. Jim and Wayne listened intently when I got to the part with the pit boss. I told them how he had

started talking from the floor, saying we would regret robbing the place. He told me we didn't know who we were robbing, that we'd regret it apparently. Wayne just chuckled at that. Maybe he doesn't know who he's dealing with. That elicited a hearty round of laughter from the group, as everyone clinked their champagne glasses together, smiling. Oh, and get this, he said to stay on dry land. whatever that means.

The place we hit a couple months back. You remember that one in Atlantic City? Uh, Neptune's Plunder? The guy there told me the same thing. Don't worry about it, man. He was just trying to get in your head. We know the place isn't mafia. It's owned by some holding group, Trident Industries.

I'm sure you guys are right, I said, feeling no better. The memory of the man's words. were still ringing in my mind, repeating over and over again. I took another sip of the champagne, but it tasted bitter in my mouth. Setting it down on the table, I excused myself and went over to the hors d'oeuvres. I wasn't hungry, but I wanted to get away from the others for a minute. Even though my stomach felt queasy. I realized I should eat and picked up a plate. The food had been expensive, and there was no sense wasting it. As someone who lived through the hardships of the Great Depression, to me that was unthinkable. There was sushi and escargo, not to mention a whole arrangement

of cocktail shrimp and Unagi, fresh-grilled octopus, and swordfish. I stood. I stood. I stood in front of the table trying to pick something out, but couldn't. I felt sick to my stomach the more I looked at the dishes. For a minute, I couldn't figure out why. The movements were so subtle. But the longer I stood staring at the table, the more obvious it became. There was something wrong with the seafood. How had nobody noticed it before? The octopus were still writhing, the escargo squirming, and the car go squirming, and the Cocktail shrimp stared at me while they flipped their fins.

Even the Unagi was looking at me suspiciously. I screamed. Dropping the plate I had just picked up. It shouted loudly on the deck, and all conversation stopped. Everyone else came running over and asked me what was wrong. I looked at them, wondering how they couldn't see it. But when I looked back at the table, everything was normal again. I...

What just happened? Did you see it? Am I the only one who just saw that? The group kept asking me what had happened, but I was afraid to tell them, so I didn't. I thought they would call me crazy. But maybe if I had been honest,

things would have worked out differently. Maybe we would have realized there was something wrong. Instead, we continued heading further and further out to sea in the blackness of night. The rest of the group insisted, I go lay down in my bunk while they continued their celebrations. They said I looked pale and unwell all of a sudden. So that's what I did.

I tried to relax, to close my eyes and sleep. The sounds of the ocean pressing in on the hall around me were too much for my mind to handle. Something about the water was unsettling me, but I didn't understand why. I'd never been afraid of drowning. So why now? Forcing my eyes closed, I told myself to relax. We had just pulled off the robbery of the century. We'd robbed Poseidon's bounty, a small but wealthy little casino with plenty of cash on hand. There would be no need to do another job for a long, long. Something broke me out of my thoughts, and my eyes snapped open. I bolted upright in the bunk, looking at it. at the confusing sight, unfolding in my room.

Murky green water was spilling in under the door, filling the room slowly. I jumped out of bed, concerned that the boat was sinking. Running out of the room through the damp hallway, my feet, squishing across the carpets. I began to call out to the others, yelling for them to wake up. But no one came out of their rooms or made a sound, despite the water up to my ankles rushing through the galley. I shouted even louder, thinking maybe they hadn't heard me in their slumber. It occurred to me that everyone could still be up on the deck, preparing a lifeboat.

So I hurried even faster, rushing up the stairs until I was outside in the cool night air. The first face I saw was Muriel's, bloated and purple, her neck being squeezed in the grip of a massive squid tentacle. The reddened imprints of its suckers could be seen running up her arm. and down her face, indicating this battle had been going on for a while. But finally it ended, as she collapsed, dead and lifeless, onto the water-drenched deck beneath her. Retreating back into the water, the tentacle disappeared again. Whatever creature it belonged to, it had to be massive. The well-appointed deck with lavish decorations was trashed.

The buffet table broken in half and broken plates were everywhere. See creatures that should have been cooked and edible were moving and alive again, slithering back into the water. Robert was pale and unbreathing. His throat opened up with a gaping wound from which blood poured out. It looked like a shark bite. Jim was on the deck as well. His face bloated and green as if someone had funneled salt water down.

his gullet until he expired. It all felt like a dream and I actually pinched myself to ensure that it wasn't. But the pain in my arm was real where I squeezed my flesh between my fingers, indicating this was, in fact, reality. I stumbled forward in the knee-deep water, seeing that we were sinking. The water was far higher than it should have been, compared to the railing which separated us from it. Before I could think about getting to a lifeboat, the yacht surged downwards into the depths. It felt as if an enormous hand grabbed us from below and began to pull us under. Everything was dark beneath the waves, impossible to see. I'd tried to swim upwards, but a force much stronger than me continued to drag me deeper, and I watched as the surface

This receded further and further into the distance above. I held my breath for as long as I could, desperately trying to resurface. But eventually, I realized it was hopeless. The ocean had me, and it would be my grave. Gasping in a breathful of saltwater, my lungs filled with pain, more terrified than I'd ever felt in my life, I knew I was about to die. My body tried to breathe the water as if it were air,

and it went into shutdown mode as my conscious mind panicked, and my eyes darted around with fruitless searching motions. I thrashed and clutched my throat as my heart began to skip beats and pound more weakly without access to oxygen. The dim light began turning to total blackness, as life drained from my soul. And then I saw eyes appear out of nowhere. They were huge, staring at me with cold, remorseless interest.

Numb fear gripped me anew as something came slithering snake-like up my leg, burrowing into my abdomen like a drill. Another slimy tentacle went down my windpipe as I choked, coughing and sputtering. But then I felt a trickle of air filling my lungs. pumping them full of oxygen and taking the water away. The slimy thing going down my throat was feeding me air, and another was pumping the water from my stomach. A voice came from all around me.

It spoke in the dull tones of underwater sounds, echoing and difficult to understand. But it spoke directly into my mind as well, which made it easier to hear, which I could say, Other than an ocean muffled... I'm sorry. We didn't know. But that didn't make him any happier.

Sorry? Not yet you weren't. But you will be. You will be very, very sorry. As it turns out, he was right. I'm now a blackjack dealer at Neptune's depths. A deep sea casino, where mermaids and mermen come to unwind. after a hard day's work. The god of the sea, as his kelp creatures feed me a trickle of oxygen and nutrients, as I perpetually drown beneath the waves,

shuffling, dealing over and over again without a break. There are no labor laws in Poseidon's underwater kingdom, and were severely understaffed. But at least I've got my friends with me. The ones who are left, anyways. Wayne is over in the poker section, and we share knowing looks, wishing we could take back our last two jobs. Brian is a pit boss, looking intimidating with his large stature

and his barnacle-encrusted blue suit. We're all slowly dying down here. Our face is turning blue from a perpetual shortage of oxygen. Our skin is beyond pruny and wrinkled, to the point of decay and early rot, and clams and muscles attach themselves to us against our will. We are not allowed to remove them, so saith the sea god Pluto, or whatever his name is. I'd give anything to be back up on that too dry coach again,

heading towards the casino. I'd take out my shotgun and pointed at the same. that bus driver's head and tell him to turn around and go to Vegas instead.