The Future
Posted: Fri Apr 10, 2009 3:00 am
It was 2032 and a virtual JG walked up to the holographic blue and white doors. He knew that it was fire in there and it was 'well on top' but this had been around for years and now it was finally coming to a head. The Internet had killed the scene and then with the mass encryption of 2009, a revolution had occured. Typewriters were dusted off and analogue television sets recomissioned as computers were frozen solid with the 1024 bit Global malware probe.
This gave roulette pros chance to practice their art and with the only functioning fruit machines being those that were purely mechanical, the 'true form' Betfair rooms were a battling ground for not quite expended fruit professionals. Many sweded out in the first few months, but the elite Jedi survived, developing powerful skills to empty casino games.
It was 2032 and things were fire, although there was a technological revolution as the malware portals were gradually being forced shut. JG was on his way to his favourite room, the zero roulette lounge. There was a tingling in his little finger. He opened it up. It was the mindwaves of Lee texting into his digit.
"George....I'm in the Paddy Power spread betting rooms at the moment. I'm with Mark."
"Mark? Who? Pyney?"
"No err Mark who works Tracey's stall."
In 2008 Leicester Market had traditionally been based in Leicester, but after the malware freeze up, market traders who had previously been plying a trade on Ebay had flooded back to 'real' market trading and Leicester market grew to epic proportions. This had led to Leicester Market being relocated on the moon due to an emergency legislative council meeting. This was a terrible shock as trading hours were greatly reduced to times when the temperature was able to sustain life. Trading times could be as little as ten minutes before the boiling atmosphere dropped way, way below zero. Mark had been loyal and with a spaceship bought from some lucky premium bonds, had continued to sell the gold to passing Martians. As the years passed by, the gold trade over on Venus became more and more competitive and with outside interstellar traders preying on the tempremental technology caused by regular flashbacks to malware freeze ups and using complex alchemic techniques, the earth/moon trade in gold was becoming virtually redundant.
Lee continued "Mark's down on his luck, so I'm showing him some Hi/Lo FTSE silver spread bets and we're also dialling into the Dow Jones index with some mad uncapped spreads. You get me? All the blue chips are boosting up to +150 and glowing red, we should make a killing mate. What are you up to anyway?"
"Oh errr, just in the zero roulette lounge, it's not great, but it pays the bills."
"I'd be careful mate. You know me mate Ady, who does Betfair outskirts, well he did the zero roulette yesterday, made 72k, so just be careful."
"Ok will do, thanks for the heads up. That'd explain why it keeps skanking me when I double up, even though I'm lucky today."
"No worries mate. Just mindwaving in to see how you were. If you'd have been here I'd have bought you a triple accumulator sandwich from the croupier's buffet."
With that Lee tuned out. At that moment the croupier stared long and hard at JG. Shit. This place was fire. JG rushed to the zero bar, where zero VAT was levied on all drink. This just meant that they pushed the prices up to compensate, like duty free and half the time, the drinks tasted of aftershave.
"Pint of Beckham please"
"Instinct or After dark?"
"Err, After Dark and drop a slice of Boss in as well" JG grumbled, splashing the cash to take off the heat. He knew full well his digit tune in with Lee would have been logged. Ady was well in with the barmaid here and didn't get any heat, whilst JG was under very close surveillance.
His 'drink' arrived.
"How much are you going to win today?"
And so it started. Morons practically on his shoe laces as he prepared to place his big bucks onto red.
"I haven't won in ages, not that lucky....is this a Boss slice?"
Jg winced, they had definitely substitued his Boss fruit slice with a Strike for Men SPORT slice. Sloppy service and deliberate, he was practically out the door.
A casual player scowled at JG.
JG walked over to the wheel. He waited for a while and then the optimistic tidal psychotic episode began. Now was the time. £20k on red. The casual player scanned JG's brain, trying to blag some moves. The ball floated around in the ether suspension before precipitating out into.......RED. Yes! there had definitely been some play since Ady had been at the table. JG could feel the winning rush when click, a power cut.
The BetLord came over.
"Sorry Pal, fuse blown, looks like you lost anyway..."
"....but, but I bet red and it came down red."
"Luck of the draw isn't it? Power cut comes and your luck is out, know what I mean? Now f*ck off out of it. You've had all the luck you'll ever need."
And so there it was, JG barred from Betfair zero roulette.
Some things never change. Way too on top. JG mindstrobed over to Lee to moan. If the malware portal was closed by enough degrees, he knew he'd do a posting on fruit chat as well. 14,544,213 postings and counting.
This gave roulette pros chance to practice their art and with the only functioning fruit machines being those that were purely mechanical, the 'true form' Betfair rooms were a battling ground for not quite expended fruit professionals. Many sweded out in the first few months, but the elite Jedi survived, developing powerful skills to empty casino games.
It was 2032 and things were fire, although there was a technological revolution as the malware portals were gradually being forced shut. JG was on his way to his favourite room, the zero roulette lounge. There was a tingling in his little finger. He opened it up. It was the mindwaves of Lee texting into his digit.
"George....I'm in the Paddy Power spread betting rooms at the moment. I'm with Mark."
"Mark? Who? Pyney?"
"No err Mark who works Tracey's stall."
In 2008 Leicester Market had traditionally been based in Leicester, but after the malware freeze up, market traders who had previously been plying a trade on Ebay had flooded back to 'real' market trading and Leicester market grew to epic proportions. This had led to Leicester Market being relocated on the moon due to an emergency legislative council meeting. This was a terrible shock as trading hours were greatly reduced to times when the temperature was able to sustain life. Trading times could be as little as ten minutes before the boiling atmosphere dropped way, way below zero. Mark had been loyal and with a spaceship bought from some lucky premium bonds, had continued to sell the gold to passing Martians. As the years passed by, the gold trade over on Venus became more and more competitive and with outside interstellar traders preying on the tempremental technology caused by regular flashbacks to malware freeze ups and using complex alchemic techniques, the earth/moon trade in gold was becoming virtually redundant.
Lee continued "Mark's down on his luck, so I'm showing him some Hi/Lo FTSE silver spread bets and we're also dialling into the Dow Jones index with some mad uncapped spreads. You get me? All the blue chips are boosting up to +150 and glowing red, we should make a killing mate. What are you up to anyway?"
"Oh errr, just in the zero roulette lounge, it's not great, but it pays the bills."
"I'd be careful mate. You know me mate Ady, who does Betfair outskirts, well he did the zero roulette yesterday, made 72k, so just be careful."
"Ok will do, thanks for the heads up. That'd explain why it keeps skanking me when I double up, even though I'm lucky today."
"No worries mate. Just mindwaving in to see how you were. If you'd have been here I'd have bought you a triple accumulator sandwich from the croupier's buffet."
With that Lee tuned out. At that moment the croupier stared long and hard at JG. Shit. This place was fire. JG rushed to the zero bar, where zero VAT was levied on all drink. This just meant that they pushed the prices up to compensate, like duty free and half the time, the drinks tasted of aftershave.
"Pint of Beckham please"
"Instinct or After dark?"
"Err, After Dark and drop a slice of Boss in as well" JG grumbled, splashing the cash to take off the heat. He knew full well his digit tune in with Lee would have been logged. Ady was well in with the barmaid here and didn't get any heat, whilst JG was under very close surveillance.
His 'drink' arrived.
"How much are you going to win today?"
And so it started. Morons practically on his shoe laces as he prepared to place his big bucks onto red.
"I haven't won in ages, not that lucky....is this a Boss slice?"
Jg winced, they had definitely substitued his Boss fruit slice with a Strike for Men SPORT slice. Sloppy service and deliberate, he was practically out the door.
A casual player scowled at JG.
JG walked over to the wheel. He waited for a while and then the optimistic tidal psychotic episode began. Now was the time. £20k on red. The casual player scanned JG's brain, trying to blag some moves. The ball floated around in the ether suspension before precipitating out into.......RED. Yes! there had definitely been some play since Ady had been at the table. JG could feel the winning rush when click, a power cut.
The BetLord came over.
"Sorry Pal, fuse blown, looks like you lost anyway..."
"....but, but I bet red and it came down red."
"Luck of the draw isn't it? Power cut comes and your luck is out, know what I mean? Now f*ck off out of it. You've had all the luck you'll ever need."
And so there it was, JG barred from Betfair zero roulette.
Some things never change. Way too on top. JG mindstrobed over to Lee to moan. If the malware portal was closed by enough degrees, he knew he'd do a posting on fruit chat as well. 14,544,213 postings and counting.