That little punk. He straddles the machine like he's fucking it while playing. He can play for hours on that game.
You have taken everything you own cashed it in, and now it is seven thousand dollars inside a duffel bag. You walk up to the boy; he gazes at you with a cocky grin. You show him the cash, and he shows you more cash. You pull a bronzed quarter out of your pocket and you slide it into the machine. You are the challenger: you put in a quarter and the game is on. Depending on fate, congratulations, you have beat the little bastard. Otherwise the little creep wins and gloats.
