The decoder ring still turns — the answers to mysterious coded ciphers in rusted aluminum relief — but not with the same ease as its glory days. Ollie turns the ring’s rusty top, G with A, H with B. He takes a deep breath and pulls the lever.
Quarters drop into the tray below. He’s on his way. He can double — hell, triple — that ten grand.
–– And THAT’s how you do that!
Ollie smiles at no one in particular, his pride lost in the sea of hunched-over slot machine treasure hunters scouring the hyper-reality of the Foxhole Casino. He straightens his tie –– his favorite, the one with the sunflowers. Never goes out of style. He winks at Margie, her omnipresent poker face betraying nothing resembling awe. She turns and focuses on the slot machine in front of her.
Lady luck’s on his side. He can feel it. He twists the decoder ring. I with C. J with D. Another coin into the slot. Another deep breath. He pulls the lever.