In one final strike, the duel between the newbie and the newbie crusher was finished in the most unexpected of ways. Passion-filled roars from the crowd shook the glass walls of the dueling box. Phil basked in the crowd’s emotions like a cat in the sun. How long had it been since he’d last dueled in front of an audience?

  Well, technically the most recent time would have been whenever he'd attended the tournament at his local game store, but that hardly counted. The sheer passion of the crowd here couldn't possibly be compared to the game store. There, it would have been a handful of people watching, if any – and most of them would only be doing it to kill time while waiting for the round to end, or to scope out their future competition.

  It wasn’t always like that. The ol’ game store back in his Earth used to be filled with people each Saturday eager to put some cardboard down on a table. After Phil’s… accident, though, he didn’t blame the people that never came back. No matter if the bloodstains were scrubbed off the walls if they were still in people’s memories.

  Here, there were no people awkwardly hovering around the table. Duelists, gamblers, and even a few of the usually stone-cold yakuza were shouting their lungs out. Chips were practically flying in the air at the betting table as people jostled to get their winnings or place bets for the next round.

  “Damn. Well, gg dude.” Phil said with a grin, looking back at his opponent. Mac N’ Cheese was slumped over, his head held in shaking hands.

  Apparently, ‘gg’ was the wrong thing to say at this particular moment. As soon as Phil finished speaking, Mac N’ Cheese’s head snapped up. The man’s eyes blazed like miniature suns, his face full of a wrath that wouldn't look out of place on a blood-soaked battlefield.

  “G? G?” The man roared, strings of sticky spittle flying out of his mouth with every word, “I WILL KILL AND EAT YOU!”

  Before Phil could even react, Mac N’ Cheese tore out of his chair, electrodes still firmly attached to his nipples, and lunged at Phil with an animalistic howl of fury. Foam gathered at the man’s mouth, his eyes were bloodshot, and his hands, which looked particularly large at the moment, opened and closed around the air as if he already could imagine Phil’s neck within reach.

  But while Mac N' Cheese was fast, Lumina was faster. In a blur of white cloth she darted under the table, her body flickering slightly as she adjusted her magic to interact with the corporeal world. Her leg was the only thing sticking out from the safety of the table, extending outward to appear in Mac N' Cheese's path just in time for the man to trip over it. Her hand flitted out, jabbing Mac N' Cheese in his kidney twice in quick succession. Then, as Mac N' Cheese screamed in pain, Lumina re-adjusted her magic to once more become invisible to all but Phil.

  All of this happened in less than two seconds.

  As Mac N’ Cheese writhed on the ground, the doors to the battle box slammed open to allow several grim yakuza to rush in. They grabbed the man’s arms, heedless of how his broken nose painted the walls of the box in a scarlet hue, or of the blood that dribbled out from his shorts.

  "Time to go," One of the yakuza said, his voice somewhat stilted as he spoke through a nose that seemed to have been broken several times, and healed badly each time. "You're going right into the time-out box to think about your actions."

  Those words were enough to tear Mac N’ Cheese’s attention away from his injuries and his still-burning desire to brutally murder Phil.

  “No! Not the time-out box! Please!” The man piteously wailed. His wails, however, did nothing to soften the yakuza’s stone-cold hearts, and soon Mac N’ Cheese was dragged out of sight.

  “Fuck me. Lumina, thanks a million. You really came in clutch there.” Phil let out a sigh of relief.

  Lumina puffed out a breath of air on her closed fist, as if she was blowing off some imaginary dust in a victory celebration.

  “That actually felt kind of good.” She admitted with a grin, “You should piss off your next opponent like that again so I can let off some more steam.”

  Then Lumina’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait! That’s right, I left my baseball bat back at the office! On second thought, don’t piss off your next opponent until I can write to Raiden and ask him to mail it to me. It’ll be more fun that way!”

  Phil grinned and nodded, attempting to bump his fist against Lumina's, both of them laughing when his fist passed through her own. Then, exiting the battle box, he began walking over to Jean. The man lazily came to his feet, whispering something in Tilla Mook's ear that made the woman laugh. The sound of her laughter – a series of soft sounds much like crystals dancing throughout the air, was quite different from her gothic style of fashion.

  As soon as her laughter peaked, Jean started jogging toward Phil. Phil increased his speed, and so did Jean, until both men were running full tilt at each other. Seconds before the collision, Phil and Jean jumped to chest-bump the other as hard as they could, both men whooping as they bounced off each other to land back on the floor with unsteady footing.

  “Merci,” Jean shot a grin toward Phil, “Good work on beating that crazy man and avoiding getting killed by him. It is my turn, no? I shall make this interesting indeed! While you wait, frere, would you get our winnings from the counter? I bet every last chip on your victory. I had a few extra on the prediction that you wouldn’t drop below 2000 life points.”

  “My man!” Phil laughed. Jean laughed as well, their combined merriment breaking through the residual shouts of the crowd to reach the bare concrete ceiling. "You better trash this next fella, 'cause I'm betting every last yen on you!"

  “Oui Monsieur!” Jean saluted, turning toward the battle box to enter it as Nando announced the next duel.

  “COMING ALL THE WAY OUT FROM THE SAME MOTHERFUCKING BRIDGE OUR NEWEST TERRIFYING DUELIST LIVES UNDER, IT’S THE FEROCIOUS FIGHTING FRENCHMAN, JEEEEAAAAANNNN DUBOIS!” Nando was on his feet screaming into the microphone, the excitement from the last duel still infecting his voice. For the briefest of moments, Phil felt a sliver of annoyance at the difference in reception between him and Jean, but soon it was squashed under his happiness that Jean was getting a hell of a welcome influenced by Phil’s decisive underdog victory. Doubtlessly Phil would get a similar welcome in his next game as well.

  “And. His opponent.” Nando began in solemn tones, though within seconds those tones shifted into a series of hype-filled shouts. “A beauty. A terror. A TRUE DUELIST! OUR SECOND NEWBIE CRUSHER OF THE DAY, A BEAUTIFUL FLOWER BLOOMING IN THIS CONCRETE DUELIST’S HELL! YOU ALL KNOW HER! YOU ALL LOVE HER! IT’S SAINT SEVENNNNNNNNNN!!!!!”

  This time, instead of a crazed shirtless man, a calm and collected woman walked out from the crowd. Appearing to be in her late 20s, the woman had short black hair that was gathered behind her head in a neat, businesslike ponytail. She wore a vibrant green sweater that almost seemed to shine under the fluorescent lights of the underground arena, and a simple black dress that reached down to the tops of her knees. This woman, Saint Seven, truly looked out of place among the collection of strange characters gathered in the underground room.

  Without a word to Jean, she took a seat opposite him in the battle box, calmly sticking the electrodes dangling from her chair to her arms.

  “Beautiful woman.” Jean bowed in his seat in a greeting. His words were much slower than normal, his mind appearing to run on overdrive as he attempted to speak in Japanese. “My name is Jean Dubois. May I have the honor of knowing yours?”

  The woman raised an eyebrow, jerking her chin toward Nando, who was still busy hyping up the crowd. “I believe I have already been introduced. You may call me Saint Seven.”

  “Saint Seven.” Jean appeared to savor the name in his mouth. “Well met, beautiful Saint Seven. I regret, however, that it would be against my pride as a duelist, along with being a stain on my friendship with Phil, to take any part of this duel easy against you. That is one thing that even I, a lover of women, must do.”

  Saint Seven tilted her head slightly to the side. Even Phil, partially engrossed with placing a bet of every chip he and Jean had collected thus far, was struck by how cute the motion was.

  “I would not expect anything less.” Saint Seven eventually replied.

  “AND NOW! IT’S TIME! TO D-D-D-D-DUEL!” Nando screamed to the accompanying roars of the crowd with such force that the bleachers shook.

  Jean: 4000 Saint Seven: 4000

  “Ladies first,” Jean beckoned toward Saint Seven with a roguish smile, which she did not return.

  “Your funeral.” Saint Seven said and drew a card. “I summon The Thing in the Crater (1000/1200) in defense mode. Two face-down cards will join it on the field, and then I end my turn.”

  The walls of a small volcano rose from Saint Seven’s side of the field, the crater letting out several belches of ashy grey smoke. Within the crater, however, a small shadowy figure moved, obscured by the smoke so that no part of its body was immediately discernable.

  “That means it’s up to me.” Jean said, the roguish smile still spread across his face.

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  “The Thing in the Crater…” Phil mused, saying the words more to himself than to Tilla, who was to his right, or Lumina, who was sitting invisible to his left. “Makes me wonder what’s in her hand.”

  Tilla shot a curious look toward Phil, one that went unnoticed until Lumina nudged him in the ribs.

  “When it dies, Saint Seven will get to special summon a pyro monster from her hand. Any pyro, in fact. As long as it doesn’t have any summoning restrictions that would conflict with the effect, it’s fair game,” Phil explained.

  Phil glanced toward the betting table, where one of the yakuza was working with Chet to mark down the bets for this game. Phil had already placed a substantial bet on Jean’s win, placing every single chip to their name on victory. No conditions, no messing around with guessing life points, only victory. Unlike Jean, Phil held no amount of optimism in his ability to guess life point values, so that part was left well enough alone.

  “It really makes me question what’s in her hand.” Phil said. His hand ran absentmindedly through his beard while he thought. “If my memory serves me right, there aren’t that many high-impact pyro monsters out there. There are some decently big normal monsters that could fit the bill… and I suppose there might also be a big boss monster, but if it’s the one I’m thinking of, that particular monster needs to be tribute summoned…”

  And then, another thought interrupted his musing.

  “That bastard. It’s barely been a day, how has his Japanese gotten this good?”

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  “Draw!” Jean shouted, “Chu-Ske the Mouse Fighter (1200/0), to my side! That won’t be enough, so my field spell will activate! Hope you like strolls in the woods, because here’s Forest! All insect, beast, plant, and beast-warrior monsters on the field gain 200 attack and defense points.”

  Chu-Ske the Mouse Fighter (1200/0 -> 1400/200).

  Jean chopped his hand forward like a general on the battlefield ordering his troops to charge.

  “Chu-Ske! Strike through her defenses! Destroy this beautiful woman’s monster!”

  A monster looking like a cross between a mouse and Jackie Chan leaped forward to hit the side of the volcano crater with a powerful kick, finally revealing the monster inside to the world.

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  “My monster’s effect activates.” Saint Seven stoically declared. “It allows me to special summon any one pyro monster from my hand. Defend me, Flame Cerebrus (2100/1800)!”

  Within the crumbling remains of the crater was a massive three-headed dog with a mane of roaring flames. Three fiery tails whipped through the air, the light of which made the creature’s purple skin shimmer brightly like it was studded with amethysts.

  Jean cocked his head, as if he had to think hard about the translation of her words, and then he let out a whistle of appreciation. “Mademoiselle, this one thinks that monster will do much more than simply defend… unless, in my second main phase, I activate the spell card Smashing Ground! It will destroy the monster on your field with the highest defense points!”

  As a giant golden fist raced down from the heavens to strike at the three-headed dog, however, a thin blue shield sprung up in the air between the two.

  “Spell Shield Type-8!” Saint Seven roared, her stoic fa?ade momentarily broken. “By discarding the Necklace of Command spell card from my hand, my counter-trap shield will gain the power to negate your spell card!”

  In an instant, the golden fist shattered to pieces as it hit the shield summoned by Saint Seven, leaving the Flame Cerebrus unharmed.

  Jean shrugged his shoulders. He’d done all he could. “Pass turn.”

  “Draw.” Saint Seven said, her emotions composed back into that rock-solid formation once more.

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  “Big normal monster it is.” Phil nodded, pleased at himself for guessing correctly. “Looks like she’s planning on using it to beat Jean’s head into the ground. What about follow-up? I wonder…”

  Then he nodded again as Saint Seven summoned a new monster, a twisting, flaming snake called Solar Flare Dragon (1500/1000).

  “1500 beater with a burn effect that triggers in her end phase,” Phil summarized. “Plus it can’t be attacked while there is another pyro monster on her field. Nasty. Hopefully she doesn’t have a second one in her hand.”

  “Why would that matter overmuch?” Tilla asked. “Is there a powerful combination with that card?”

  “Yuppers.” Phil slouched back in his seat. “Get two on one side of the field at the same time, and you get a ‘battle lock’. Solar Flare Dragon is a pyro monster. It possesses an effect that prevents it from being attacked when there is another pyro on that side of the field. Can’t attack the first copy, and the second copy has the same effect. Thus, you flat-out can’t attack either of the Solar Flare Dragons.”

  “I see. Do you think that cute friend of yours can still win?” She asked.

  Phil did not even hesitate for a single second. “I sure do.”

  Tilla did not reply to that, simply looking at Jean with an inscrutable look in her eyes.

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  Jean grimaced as the Solar Flare Dragon tore through his Chu-Ske, followed by Flame Cerebrus taking a large chunk out of his life points. The electricity arcing through his body was painful, making his limbs seize up several times and eliciting pained groans from his mouth, but he had experienced worse. All he could do was grit his teeth and make it through.

  Jean: 1800 Saint Seven: 4000

  In the span of one turn, his life counter was already past the halfway point. Yet, the emotion stirring in his chest was no despair, nor fear. It was excitement. Pure excitement. Excitement that roared like a stoked fire, even as Saint Seven ended her turn and his life points were reduced even further by Solar Flare Dragon’s effect. That excitement could not be dampened by the shocks, but instead increased further, going from the size of a stoked fire to that of a blaze that could devour a city.

  Jean: 1300 Saint Seven: 4000

  “What a turn!” Jean praised the beautiful woman, taking a moment while he drew his card to glance at the even more beautiful woman sitting right next to Phil. Tilla. Before today, he’d never met someone named ‘Tilla Mook’ before. The name was quite unique.

  And the woman it was attached to was beautiful, charming, and kind. She was looking at him right now, as if curious to see Jean’s true worth in a worthy battlefield.

  His hands were steady, his breathing firm. If a beautiful woman wanted a show, then it would be Jean’s honor and privilege as a Frenchman to provide!

  “Pardonne-moi, but now that your strength has been revealed, allow me to do the same!” Jean said with a vigorous shout. “Chu-Ske is only one of the disciples of a true master. Come to my side, Monk Fighter (1300/1000)! Then, the disciple calls for the master’s aid! By sacrificing Monk Fighter, I special summon Master Monk (1900/1000) from my hand in attack position!”

  As the orange-robed form of the grey-haired Monk Fighter faded away as quickly as it appeared, an old, grey-bearded man with long silver hair strode out onto the field. He was garbed in a similar martial uniform as Monk Fighter, but the old man’s uniform was in tatters from countless training sessions and the stresses of a thousand and one battlefields. Muscles rippled across his entire body, to the point that it looked like even his muscles had muscles of their own.

  Master Monk. It was the strongest monster Jean possessed. While it lacked the sheer attack power of his brother's Sengenjin, it made up for it with the utility of its effect and the plentiful support cards that could make it even stronger than it was before.

  “Master Monk! Vengeance for your fallen disciples is soon at hand! I activate my equip spell, Gravity Axe – Grarl! It will increase my monk’s attack points by 500, while also preventing your monsters from changing their battle positions!”

  Master Monk (1900/1000 – 2400/1000).

  "Battle phase." Jean declared, but no sooner than those words left his lips than Saint Seven held up a hand to stop him in his tracks. To the sighs of the crowd admiring the unintentionally cute action, Saint Seven flipped over her second face-down card.

  “Threatening Roar. You cannot declare an attack this turn.”

  Jean shrugged helplessly. “Shame. In that case, I shall place one card face-down and end my turn.”

  Saint Seven drew a card, and without barely pausing for a breath, she activated Pot of Greed to draw two more cards.

  “Sacrificing Flame Cerebrus, I tribute summon Molten Behemoth (1000/2200) in defense position. Following that, I activate the Yellow Luster Shield continuous spell card. All monsters on my field, for as long as the shield stays active, gain 300 defense points!”

  Molten Behemoth (1000/2200 -> 1000/2500).

  A giant made of cooling magma and molten rock lumbered onto the field, spreading its hands out wide to take a defensive position in front of Saint Seven and the flaming dragon.

  “In my end phase, Solar Flare Dragon’s effect activates to inflict another 500 points of damage.” Saint Seven calmly announced.

  Jean: 800 Saint Seven: 4000

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  “Pyro and burn strategies. A tale as old as time. Summoning a monster in defense position to get around Grarl’s effect and using it to keep the heat off of the dragon. Funny, funny.” Phil smirked as he watched the situation.

  Tilla furrowed her brows. “But does Jean have a way out? In two more end phases, he loses.”

  Phil leaned forward, abandoning his slouch to once more tug away at the tangles in his beard. As he generally preferred to remain clean-shaven back on Earth, having a beard was one of the many new things this time around that he wasn't quite fully adjusted to. And yet, being able to stroke his beard like some sort of wise master was an almost addicting feeling.

  “Keep doing that and you’ll start speaking in riddles,” Lumina laughed, easily guessing what thoughts were zooming through Phil’s head.

  “Hm. Yes, speak in riddles, I shall.” Phil muttered back in a purposely creaky voice, keeping his volume low enough so that Tilla couldn’t hear him. Then, he turned his attention back to the battle box. It was true that Solar Flare Dragon could end the game in two more of Saint Seven’s turns. However, it was also true that Jean had a few different ways to deal with this. The big problem was taking out the Molten Behemoth. Doing that would need another way to boost Master Monk's attack or another card like Smashing Ground. Only then could the dragon be slain.

  “Kaminote Blow… Smashing Ground… Wasteland…” Phil ticked off the cards one by one on his fingers. Those were the options he knew for sure would be in Jean’s deck. Anything past that would be pure guesswork.

  Jean, however, revealed none of those cards, choosing to summon Minomushi Warrior (1300/1200) in defense position, placed a card face-down, and ended his turn.

  Tilla fell into silence, interrupting none of Phil’s muttered possibilities as she watched Jean hang in the duel with all the strength he could muster.

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  “This is the limit of your strength?” Saint Seven offhandedly wondered aloud. Her left hand wandered up to her neck, brushing a few strands of hair back behind her ear that had escaped her ponytail. “Unable to break through my defenses and stop the ticking clock. If that is so, then consider this game a symbol of my mercy. There are multiple other duelists in this room who command strategies crueler than mine.”

  Jean shrugged, a casual air still wrapped around his body. “Some days the cards do not fall the way we want them to, yes?”

  “Perhaps,” Saint Seven acknowledged, “But fall they will. I know not what you plan by summoning that weak monster of yours, but I will not allow it to stay on the field. Solar Flare Dragon, destroy Minomushi Warrior! My turn will then end.”

  Jean: 300 Saint Seven: 4000

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  Of all the people in the room, only Phil noticed the savage grin threatening to bloom on Jean’s face. The man was fighting to conceal it, even as Minomushi Warrior was burned to a crisp by the fiery, snake-like dragon.

  “There we go.” Phil muttered triumphantly, sitting fully upright with every drop of his attention focused on the TVs above the battle box that showed the duel within. He did not know for sure what the next turn would bring, but Jean’s concealed grin held promise that it would be one hell of a turn.

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  “Ha! When it comes to dueling, us French are the best in the world!” Jean abandoned any pretense of controlling his emotions as soon as the turn switched to his. “I summon Moai Interceptor Cannons (1100/2000), and then I reveal the quick-play spell card set on my field! Turning the tide of the game, even your monsters aren’t safe! Enemy Controller activates!”

  In the center of the field, a large video game controller came into view. The giant Easter Island statues wasted no time. Opening their mouths, they blasted beams of fire to strike at the buttons on the giant game controller. Then they groaned and exploded in a giant cloud of dust, causing the Molten Behemoth to blink and slowly drag itself over to Jean’s side of the field.

  "By sacrificing one monster I control, I can take control of one of yours," Jean explained. "Then, by switching this new monster of mine to attack mode, my win should be assured."

  “Yet…” Jean’s eyebrow rose, “Mademoiselle does possess a well-rounded knowledge of the game. Permit moi to seal the deal. By banishing my fallen rock-type Monk Fighter, Minomushi Warrior, and Moai Interceptor Cannons from the graveyard, I special summon from my hand Megarock Dragon (?/?)! Its power is simple, for sure! For each rock-type monster that was banished to summon it, Megarock Dragon gains 700 attack and defense points!”

  Megarock Dragon (?/? -> 2100/2100).

  “Now! Permit me, beautiful woman, to bring this duel of ours to a delightful end!”

  As Jean ordered, the grizzled monk tore through Saint Seven’s Solar Flare Dragon with one mighty kick.

  Jean: 300 Saint Seven: 3100

  A craggy punch followed the kick as a fist made from boulders struck directly.

  Jean: 300 Saint Seven: 2100

  Master Monk leaped forward with its second attack, but Saint Seven grimly revealed a Kuriboh in her hand, discarding it to make the damage done by the monk’s attack fall to zero. Yet as Jean predicted, it was not enough. The final attack, the gnashing jaws of the rocklike Megarock Dragon, sunk deep into Saint Seven’s life points to bring them to zero.

  Jean: 300 Saint Seven: 0

  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  Phil leaned backward in his seat, eyes still glued to the screen.

  “That cheeky French fuck, running a Megarock like that!” He shook his head in disbelief. “Saved his ass for sure. All my sweating about running into a Kuriboh, and someone finally pulls one out.”

  “The duel was well-fought.” Tilla agreed. She was looking at the screens as well, with a small smile on her face. “Good-looking, charming, and a strong duelist to boot. Perhaps I should really make him mine.”

  “Phil.” Lumina said, casting a sharp glance toward him.

  “Lumina.” Phil replied, sharing the glance with equal sincerity.

  “Think we should help?”

  “I think we should.”

  Phil patted Tilla on the back to get her attention. In his mind, he slipped an imaginary set of sunglasses over his eyes. On the side of the sunglasses read one phrase – ‘Phil, professional wingman’.

  “Okay, make sure to lay it on, but not too thick.” Lumina said encouragingly.

  “You know, Jean is true a man among men. He’s real honorable, not the type to cheat at all. In fact, I can’t think of a guy who would treat you better than Jean. I’m honored to call him my brother, after all, and I wouldn’t become brothers with someone who had a crappy personality. With the dueling skills he has, money sure is piling in! He’s funny, too. Give him a chance, ay?” Phil finished by flashing what he hoped was a winning grin.

  A bemused smile spread over Tilla’s face, but before she could answer, Phil held out a hand to forestall her words and dashed over to the battle box.

  “Dude. Dude!” Phil whispered furiously, opening the door a crack to stick his head in. Inside, Jean was picking up his cards, while Saint Seven, with her ponytail slightly frizzed up, was taking several deep breaths to steady herself from the electrical shock of having 4000 life points drained in one turn.

  “Oui?” Jean turned a questioning gaze onto Phil.

  “You know that lady, Tilla Mook, that you were talking to earlier? She’s definitely into you dude!”

  Jean pumped a fist in the air. “To battle and glory, my frere!”

  Phil shot a wink toward Saint Seven. “Sorry mate, gotta borrow my buddy here for a bit.” Then without waiting for an answer, they walked out of the box together. Phil put his arm around Jean’s shoulder.

  “Now, I think she knows from the announcer that we’re homeless. But with our wins today, if we can keep winning more, I think we can find a half-decent place. You know, something a lady wouldn’t mind visiting.”

  Jean nodded sharply. “Oui Monsieur. This is not my first rodeo, though this beautiful woman does make my heart flutter more than it ever has before.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Phil grinned, “Now go get ‘em tiger!”

  Phil and Lumina watched like proud parents as Jean, as smooth as could be, slid in to sit right next to Tilla, saying something in French that made the woman giggle. The exchange went on for several minutes, both Tilla and Jean smiling so much that Lumina had to move forward and wipe not only a tear from Phil's face, but from hers as well.

  “They grow up so fast.” Phil said through a grin.

  “The self-professed ‘lover of women’ is doing well.” Lumina agreed.

  As two more people split away from the crowd to enter the battle box, however, Phil put a hand over his mouth in an expression of mock scandal. Jean, the roguish devil he was, had leaned in and kissed Tilla, who happily reciprocated.

  “I think this makes us official ‘love gurus’.” Lumina said, slightly blushing at the sight of the two lovers.

  Phil spread his arms out wide, already imagining the title hanging in thin air. “Phil and Lumina – Love Gurus for hire. I like it!”

  Their kiss finished, Jean split away to speed back toward Phil.

  "Phil! We have to duel more people! I told Tilla that our place is getting work done on it, that it isn't fit for a beautiful woman such as her to grace it with her presence! We must earn that money as soon as possible!"

  Phil bumped his fist against Jean’s own, nodding resolutely. This was his duty, as a friend, as a brother, and as a love guru.

  “In the name of how sweet you two look together, it shall be done. Off to the chips counter! I bet every last chip we had on you, and that’s gotta count for something!”

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