‟JONES!” 

I stirred.

‟Where have you been? It's been ten minutes since your shift started, I put you on drink duty, and then I find you standing in your room staring into space! What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?”

‟I-I-I" I thought to myself that if I was given any chance to win any money, the first thing I would do was hire an assassin to kill this man. I could not think of a good excuse, and I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. ‟amm.... high! I'm high on ketamine!" I immediately regretted not lying to my shitty manager. Needless to say, I was fired.

I slammed my apartment door shut and screamed and screamed until I couldn't scream anymore. I didn't care that my neighbors had children. I didn't care that I was fired. I didn't care that I lost my source of income, the only thing keeping me alive. I cared that that fucking bastard thought that he could do what he wanted with me. 

I was so angry, I was so disturbed that there existed a being ignorant enough to offend me, that I just seethed with rage. I was so angry that I unconsciously wished for exactly the power to get rid of the cause of this rage. People.

Time stopped. 

Everything went grey.

I could see in my peripheral vision a strange man in a tuxedo with golden stripes was leaning up against my bedroom wall, smoking a cigar like some kind of mafia boss cliche. He slowly turned his head towards me to reveal his lack, or, a frankly creepy space where his eyes should be, but somehow did not exist at all.

"You called?" He said.

I couldn't respond. I was terrified, unable to respond, literally.

"Oh! Right. You can't move in this space. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

He snapped his fingers.

Not wanting to waste this opportunity, I immediately responded with a rushed " I want people to know their place, even if my material position was lower than them. I want them to know that they are below me, even if I have to suffer. As long as they suffer more."

Time returned to the state it was in when the man appeared before me.

"Sure, but what's the fun in doing that without a little risk? If everyone treats you better, then how will you have fun? Life will be boring. So, let's play a game."

Time resumed.

Time resumed. He was gone. 

That night, I dreamt that I was a homeless man, but that I was welcomed into a casino as if I was the owner. I walked up to a table and put down 100,000,000 dollars worth in chips, even though I had no money. Everyone's head turned towards me. all the gamblers left, all the strippers flocked towards me, all the athletes left, the drug dealers tried to hide the fact that they wanted to rob me, and would try to after I left the casino, and all the-wait. A gambler stayed. He was dressed in a tuxedo and a fedora, with gold stripes running up and down his tux. His eyes were invisible, but in the way that they just, didn't exist. And there wasn't skin where his eyes should be. He smiled. He got up and reached deep inside me. I felt as if everything was all right. If everything was okay.  He said, "Wanna play poker?"

I awoke. To 100,000,000  dollars in chips sitting on my bed. Which was a pile of pillows.

And I was a homeless man.

 My bed turned into a poker table.  Realizing my connection to the dream, I let it happen. And then, the loudest noise ever to exist rang in my ears. I fell to my knees, writhing around in pain.  The pain was unbearable, and every single cell in my body was dying. And then it stopped. I opened my eyes, and all of a sudden, every single human being that ever existed was watching me play poker with the strange tuxedo-gambler in perhaps a stadium the size of the earth. They all kneeled when I looked at them, as if I was some kind of diety. And in the very center was the man. I realized what was happening. I was getting what I wanted, but this was the risk. Well, at least my hand is good, I thought. Royal flush. Best hand in the whole goddamn game.

I bet 1 cent- and was raised by 1 cent. I knew that tux-man liked to start as small as possible. He told me. He IS me. I told me. I am him. I won some games, he won others. I was up by 3 and we played five-card draw until we ran out of chips. Then the tux-man told me to make some. I already had. He told me to deal him. I already had. We played until we ran out of chips again, but this time, we used our souls. I asked him, "How long will this go on? Tell me."

The atmosphere got heavy, as if it was filled with pressure. I began to panic. Did I do something wrong? Did I-

"YES. You said something wrong. You asked me to do something. Then, you ordered me. If nobody else can ask you to do something, why can you ask ME to do something? I am just as good as you, even better! After all, that's your philosophy, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"So, why can you ask me for something?"

"Because I am better than you."

He stopped. I stopped. Time stopped. 

"But I AM you. You are a sinner, and so am I. You and me, we're one and the same."

"No. You're not. No. I'm not."

The man had a wide, jagged grin and said "You forgot."

All I could feel was pain. My vision slowly clouded, like if steam from a shower was filling up a bathroom. A high pitched ringing in my ears changed between A *SCREEEEECCCHHH* and a *EEEEEEEEEEEE.* I felt as if my limbs were being peeled away, as if my blood was full of little tiny insects, slowly eating me from the inside of my arteys and my veins. I felt as if my head was exploding, but was exploding so slowly, that the explosion never ended. I couldn't tell how long this happened. 1 year? 10 years? 100 years? I had no idea. I felt as if the pain kept on getting worse and in new ways. I wished that it would end. I begged, I asked, and I question why ME?

 But then I awoke. Only to find 100,000,000 dollars in chips on my bed, and a strange sense of deja vu.