Sammy and the Slots Machine

On a sunny day in February, Sammy awoke to birds singing as he eagerly awaited the events of the day that lay ahead.

Last night, Sammy and his friend Eric, the lactose intollerant racoon, had travelled all the way from the Flowery Forest to Las Vegas, Nevada.

Heading downstairs for an early morning gamble, Sammy was relieved to see plenty of empty slot machines, and so he sat down, entered some magical money and tried his luck.

Strangely, the wheels didn't move at all, and after Sammy pulled the lever again, the same dissapointing result occured.

'Excuse me, sir?' asked Sammy, addressing one of the other gamblers.

The man didn't look up from his machine, but answered, 'What?!'

'I was wondering if you could help me fix this machine. It seems to be broken.'

'No I won't bloody help you!' grumbled the man.

'Okay,' said Sammy cheerfully, 'Thanks for your help.'

Getting up from his seat, it didn't take long before Sammy found a security man, in his uniform. Sammy decided to ask him for assistance.

'Good morning, kind sir,' said Sammy.

'Can I help you?'

'Yes, I was on a machine over there, and it doesn't seem to be accepting my currency.'

'Only US dollars are accepted in this casino.'

'Well, that seems awfully discriminative,' said Sammy. 'Do they not accept Magical Money, or even Pixie Dust, the two currencies of the Flowery Forest, the most happiest place on the planet?'

The security man stared at Sammy for a moment. 'No.'

'Very well, thank you for your help.'

Sammy made his way over to a counter, where he collected some coins that were just lying on the desk. He left some Magical Money to compensate, and returned to his slot machine.

Oh no! What was this? Somebody else had got there first!

'Excuse me sir, but I was using this machine,' Sammy politely stated.

'Yeah, well you ain't now.'

'Well, could I use it again, for you see, I had already enterred my money, and technically, you're breaking the law by spending my money for me.' Sammy was not threatening the man, merely stating facts.

'Well, I don't care.'

'Well, you should, I'm afraid. It's not fair that you should come along and just-

With a mighty smack to the head, Sammy was knocked out cold.

...'Sammy? Sammy? Samm- Bleurgh!'

Sammy felt something wet against his face. Opening his eyes, he saw Eric, who did not look very well.

'I think I ate some cheese...' Eric said, unhappily.

'Oh deary me...' said Sammy. 'Well, fear not, dear friend. I shall double this money I have here, and pay for a doctor. One of these modern human doctors!'

He approached a slot machine that was already in use. 'Excuse me sir, but I am in dire need of this slot machine. My friend, you see, he is sick, and I need to pay for a doctor.

There was no answer. Sammy took this as a yes, and picked the man up, taking his seat.

'Hey, wha?! What the hella you doin'?!' shouted the man.

'As I said, sir, I need-' Sammy was interrupted by the arrival of a man in uniform, similar to the one he had spoken to earlier.

'What's going on here?' asked the security man.

'Oh, officer. I need to use this machine. My friend is sick, and-'

'He stole my slot machine!' shouted the gambler.

'It's rude to interrupt,' stated Sammy. 'Where was I...?'

'You stole his machine? I'm afraid you can't-'

The man was interrupted by a stream of vomit flying from Eric's mouth all over the man, spraying off him at all angles, soaking the machines and the gamblers in green and orange vomit.

'Oh, raspberries,' said Eric.

As the security man attempted to reach Eric and Sammy, he slipped, knocking over several gamblers nearby, who hit their heads against the machines, blood and brains oozing out of their cracked skulls.

Sick flew up into the security man's eyes. 'I can't see!' he cried.

To this day, Sammy and Eric are banned from the state of Nevada, on account of blinding one man and killing three others.

The ban didn't effect Eric, however. He died of lactose poisoning on the trip back home.

The End

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