The flashing lights, the deafening roar of the slots, the excitement, the honeymoon – all long gone. Vince could think of one thing and only one thing: getting his money back.

Beads of sweat rolled down his face. He cringed, at the thought of disappointing his bride. He told her he was going to get some ice. That was 11 minutes ago.

$1500 ago.

If he didn’t win it all back, goodbye honeymoon. Goodbye marriage.

“A lot of 11’s tonight,” Vince said a little too loudly to the stickman, as he stared at the odds: 15-1. “An 11 is coming! I can feel it!”

“Your guess is as good as mine, sir.”

“This is my last $100,” Vince said, confidence building quickly. He really did feel it. “11!”

“You realize that’s about the dumbest bet anyone’s made all night? Put it on the Pass Line.”

“I lost $1500 in 10 minutes playing it safe. It’s time for me to adapt to the table, don’t you think?”

The dice hopped off the back wall and Vince celebrated even before he heard the stickman yell, “Yo-eleven! The morons get paid!”