We were in our suite at the Mint when the drugs kicked in.  The beast was passed out cold and I was trying to revive him.  I thought a good flick to the nose would do the trick.  However, that bloody meat wad had seen better days and a shred of compassion got through the drugs and booze.  So, I didn't flick it again.  Instead I went out to the ice machine and got a bucket of ice.  There was a portly, bald gentleman in front of me getting ice.  I walked up singing some show tune and reeking of booze.  He turned, looked, glanced at me and said, "Looks like you'd had a rough go of Vegas."  He had a nervous laugh.  I slid my cigarette to the side of my mouth, hung it off my bottom, swollen lip, and said, "Um I don't know man.  We just rolled in.  We really haven't hit it yet.  When these goddamn Russians get here, the party will really start.  Say do you have any daughters?"  The guy shook his head and walked off.  I yelled, "Jesus Christ man, I didn't mean underage daughters you pig."  I mumbled other things but the tunnel vision was setting in and my mind was shutting down.  I had to get the beast and I sobered up.  I grabbed the ice and swerved back to the room.

I grabbed a spoon, needle, and rubber band from my case.  I heated up some cocaine and a few drops of Early Times in the spoon.  I drew up enough for the both of us.  I shot-up myself first, let the coke hit me, and then I shot up the beast.  After a few minutes, he started coming around.  I filled a wet towel full of ice and handed it to him.  I said, "You have to get that mess cleaned up."  He stared blankly.  I pointed to the mirror.  He stood wobbly on his feet and looked into the mirror.  He exclaimed, "What the FUCK happened to my GODDAMN nose?"  I replied, "You don't remember?  I had to save your ass from a mess of bikers.  You were acting like some goddamn animal.  You were cussing out their children you son-of-a-bitch.  You're lucky they let me haul you out alive."  He questioned me, "I don't remember that.  You're lying!"  I said, "You rotten bastard.  I save your life and you call me a liar?  I should have left you with those motherfuckers."  The beast backed off and cleaned up his nose.  I think he bought it.  I told him how we got this room and how we were expected to gamble.  He said, "What are we gambling with?"  I explained, "That's just it you great idiot.  We have to get cleaned up and out of this room.  Otherwise, these buzzards will be on us all night to gamble in their casino."  Let's get cleaned up and go look for a girl.  The beast nodded.  He returned from the shower with a pair of extra large sunglasses to cover up his damaged face.  Even with the broken nose he was a good looking dude.  The women loved him and he was strong as an ox.  So, he was good in a scrape.  However, you had to keep the whiskey out of him.  He would drink until he died.  He was like a goddamn goldfish.  We still looked suspicious.  We exited out the back of the casino. 

We hit a strip club down the street.  The place was dead.  The waitress comes over and says, "Howdy boys!  What'll ya have?"  The beast says, "A bottle of Early Times."  I kicked him under the table and he wails.  I said, "Just a couple of beers.  When does the next show start?"  She looked at the beast and said, "Any second hun.  Say is your friend alright?"  I said, "Who him?  Yes!  Christ sakes he's fine.  He's a professional fighter.  You should see the other poor bastard."  She smiled and walked away.  I stared at the beast and said, "A bottle of whiskey?  These people don't want trouble.  You walk in here with face looking like a grenade went off in it and ordering whiskey by the bottle; these people are going to know we're scoundrels.  They won't put up with that shit."  The beast nods.  The music starts up and a tall, dark haired girl with a beautiful body starts dancing.  Her body is tight as a drum.  I am fixated.  The beast could care less and inhales beers.  After her set, I motion for the girl to come over.  She sits on the beasts lap.  He seems annoyed but allows it.  She asks about his face of course.  I give her the professional fighter story.  She seems intrigued.  She rubs her hands across his huge chest.  I ask her, "Can you speak with a Russian accent?"  She stares blankly for a minute and says, "Yes dahling.  I kin speek like de Russians."  It wasn't good, but it would do.  I told her to get dressed and meet us in the alley behind the club.  We met and I gave her the low down on the plan.  She nodded and said she got it.  She said her name was Kat.  I told her she would be going by Katarina the rest of the trip.  We all did some coke and headed back to the Mint.

We hit the front doors like Grant hit Vicksburg...heavy and relentless.  It was 11:30 PM.  The manager rushed over, "Hello.  I have being trying to contact you."  I quickly said, "Yes, I know man.  Christ, we just made a trip to the airport.  Bad news though.  The Russians have been delayed a bit.  Nothing serious.  They'll be here in time to gamble like wild loons.  We have to prepare the suite for their arrival.  The Russian liaison, Katarina, will verify it all."  I nudge Kat.  She blurts, "Yes, dey have been delayed.  We must prepare for deir arrival though.  De party is very important."  The manager stared intently at her but couldn't get a read.  I said, "We need lots of fresh fruit and fresh shrimp sent up immediately...oh and some vodka too."  The manager scribbled something down and gave it to a bell hop.  He said, "It will be up shortly.  Would you like to go ahead and arrange for a line of..."  I interrupted, "Later man.  We have to get this goddamn suite ready."  I pushed the others onto the elevator.  The manager stared not knowing what to think.  Poor bastard. 

I blast on the stereo in the suite, cut up some lines of coke on the table, and we all three have a snort.  Kat and the beast start making out like two wild dogs in heat.  Billy Squire's Everybody Wants You comes on the stereo; I grab the nitrous mask for a few hits, sit back, and watch these two creatures have at it.  Suddenly, there is a pounding at the door.  Paranoia sets in.  "This can't be the food and booze.  It's too quick.  Did I nod off?"  I walk over to the door, "Who is it."  A man's voice comes back, "Room Service!"  I test the bastard, "Do you have the jelly beans and rum?"  The voice sounds confused, "No sir.  Fruit, shrimp, and vodka."  I smile and the paranoia subsides.  I unlock the door and pull down the handle.

"We have just lost cabin pressure...It's called a changeover.  The blog goes on, and nobody reading has any idea it happened."*      *Borrowed from Fight club...

The door is kicked in hard.  It hits me in the face and knocks me to the ground.  The beast jumps up, throwing a mostly nude Kat to the floor.  She screams.  I look up and see two guys and a girl standing in the doorway.  The girl is holding a pistol on the beast.  My vision clears up.  I can make out the assailants now, "Jesus Christ on Hell's throne!  Roman and Lindsay, what took you so fucking long?  Who's this other fuck?"  Roman scanned the room for any other rabid animals then he said, "This is my friend Charlie.  He'll be helping out with the festivities this evening."  I laughed like a hyena, "Hey Charlie!  Guess what?  My name's Charlie too.  You'll be as fucked as I am one day."  He ignored my prognostication and stared at the beast...