I was busy today carefully patching up the big hole I made at RFyre when I got a call from my friend Jackson Vantelli. I put down the duct tape and prims I was using to try to patch it up and answered his IM. FYI, Jackson is the owner of Quarters nightclub, a rather fun place for dancing and gaming (though not my personal taste in music as I tend towards the less mainstream). He is also a supermodel, builder, publisher, and general SL extraordinaire. Jackson wanted to show me his new Blackjack table. I needed to get the hole fixed before Raven saw it, but I guessed I had time to see his new toy.
I tp'd in and Jackson offered me a seat at the table. When I went to take another, he said, "Oh no, sit here, Harper. Right next to me." He patted the seat. I was a little suspicious and narrowed my eyes. "Just want to look at those pretty green eyes, darlin'." Jackson is a notorious flirt. Somehow he gets away with it (and finds time to do it on top of all the other stuff he has going on in SL). I can't believe with all that he can survive in SL--women can be pretty vicious here. But he slides through.
I sat down and proceeded to get myself beat handily at Blackjack. Now, I know a lot of this is the luck of the draw, but the luck seemed to be falling on the side of the "dealer" and Jackson. I am glad the thing didn't take bets or I would have lost a bundle.
Then Jackson proceeded to explain to me that HE made the table, building, textures, and scripting. Now it all came clear. Jackson had to have coded that thing so he could win.
Well, all I could do was take out my own weapon--a sweet piece of candy. (You know what's coming next.)
"Candy, Jackson? Got an early batch of holiday humbugs." Jackson happily (and obliviously) took one.
I winced when, on the third crunch, Jackson blew. I guess this will be the last time you ask me to "hit you," hm, Jack?