(Decks 10-14, bar, you pick which deck)

Joe sat alone drinking old Cognac, his briefcase handcuffed to his hand. He played a few hands of poker, and won against some newbies thinking they could swindle a middle aged guy. He laughed a little as he finished his drink. He thought about what the next order of business was. He decided that for now he had to improve his ultimate bluff; his flare gun. Everyone believed it when a Texan claimed his flare gun with some tinfoil on it was real gun. People fucked off easily. He stood up and hummed to himself. The bartender did not give out hot meals so he had no tinfoil. [i]Ugh.[/i]

Thus his steps of descent began he had to go to the food court, get a hamburger or something. When he finally got there, he would have his signature smile on, and go to the nearest fast-food type joint, and order a burger.