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“Heaven isn't a place on Earth, baby, but it is a paradise on the Citadel. Welcome to Stardust.”
Thankful that he had dressed appropriately for the occasion, Hotline Rick grinned, distracted by the designed allure of his interdimensional topless counterpart, who exaggeratedly bent over the lounge table, inviting a full view of himself as he placed the glass tumbler with a spherical ice cube on the coaster in front of him. The Rick, artfully poured the liquor from the decanter into the glass, stirring a smile from the guest.
Hotline reached for the glass with a grateful nod, before turning his attention, undivided to the Rick who invited him to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
Casino Rick, leaned back against the midnight blue velvet seating, stretching his chest out as his arms splayed across the sofa's back.
“So tell me, what are the odds….” He mused aloud to himself, as if he had relayed an inside joke that only he was in on, and hotline swallowed nervously and adjusted his tie, stalling for time.
“The odds?” He questioned, taking the obvious bait.
“Of this place becoming absolute, fucking hell for you.”
The Rick smirked, before leaning forward in his seat, and as his expression entered into the lounge limelight, it shifted into a hard frown.
“I don't take chances, Scwhifty. You guaranteed an ROI, on my...generous investment, and you've come up short because you just couldn't keep it in your pants...don't get me wrong, I make a living off of undisciplined Ricks like you, but I rarely do business with ‘em.”
Hotline mused to himself, that he had in fact lost the money, by giving it to the Casino in some form or another, but he wasn't about to argue technicalities with the king of the Silver Palm district.
“A-and you'll still get it.” He tried to hardass his way through the conversation he'd been avoiding for the better part of a few weeks, after he'd been desperately trying to scramble together the funds he had lost.
Someone had called his hotline and informed him that he'd won an all expense paid visit to Silver Palm, to enjoy a weekend at the Stardust Casino and Resort, and before he could politely decline the offer, his friend working at the Radio station had called him up, congratulating him on the sweepstakes win, before he was scheduled to read it live on air.
Hotline swallowed, his former co-worker and friend, Radio, would think so little of him, if he found out he'd gotten involved in Silver Palm's Outfit. His thriving business had been cannibalized by his own gambling addiction, and when Casino Rick had discovered how indebted to the Casino the Rick had become, “Left” offered him a way out. A financial amnesty of sorts that transferred the debt into a small business loan, based on the understanding that they'd be taking a percentage of future income until it was repaid with an interest rate of 12%.
It was the only option he had at the time, and his own Rick-disillusionment told him that if he dropped the gambling, he'd be able to get back on track, in a relatively short time, but in hindsight, Lefty planned from the very beginning for Hotline to hang himself with the slack he had been giving.
Casino Rick wanted to own Hotline, and his business. And if his unique baritone signature hadn't been the mainliner of the business itself, Hotline had no doubt, access to his own business would already have been cut off as the silver palm outfit took charge of it for their own financial gain.
“You're new to this industry, Schwifty, so let me explain to you how this works. You made a contract with the Silver Palm Outfit, who not only does not have a single iota of fuck to give about you, but is also too busy for whatever excuse is gonna fall out of that incessantly open hole of yours.”
He indulgently took a sip from his alcohol, as if daring the Rick to say something before continuing.
“You’re fucking up, and you have until the end of the week to stop fucking up, or you’ll be sleeping with the stars. It’s not personal it’s just business, and I’ll take over yours to try’n make up for my personal loss.”
The Rick waitress snickered at the straightforward delivery to the amusement of Left, before leaning against the Rick's ear to speak into it. Casino Rick offered a smile groping the Ricks thigh with a “By all means, sweetheart.” Before turning his attention back to Hotline.
“You're still here?”
The cold expression caused hotline to quickly rise from his seat, nearly spilling the glass of alcohol, as he excused himself, too quickly from the room.
