But I decided that anyway, here we were on our way to Cleveland when the Suburban got a flat tire. Walking out to inspect the damage, I saw it was worse than a flat tire. We'd run over some dice - the sharp kind. They were stuck deep in the tread, so I got out a lottery card, scratched it, lost, and then tried to use it to pry out the dice.
They were crusty with asphalt and gravel. I looked up and sure enough, there was a Grove of dice trees right by the highway. There ought to be a law! Oh wait, there was a law until two years ago, when I repealed it because of some persuasive convincing by the dice growers lobby. So I'm stuck here, with an SUV full of poker players, and I can't bluff off my way out of a situation.
I was wondering where the spare tire could be hiding. I opened up the door and the Gang were using it to prop up their steel poker table. Large piles of magnetically stabilized chips were stuck to the table. A smoke machine provided the atmosphere forbidden by health regulations. I was hoping I can entice some players - the losers - to come out and help change the tire.
But there wasn't much point to it. So I look for the roulette wheel and use that instead. What were the odds that would happen?
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