The rest of the party setup for Neo went pretty smoothly. His lake house was more like a palatial estate with 20 rooms spread across 3 floors with chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, and a tall fence separating a part of the beach specifically for the lake house. We managed to obtain several kegs that we placed on the bottom floor kitchen, a chocolate fountain in the dining room, and the 100 pre-rolls in a specifically designated weed storage room.
Finally, after sending out about 100 invitations over 3 days, the actual day of the party arrived.
"Huh? What do you mean I should come?" the text Oliver sent to me read, "Nope not happening. Absolutely not, I have the entire day planned and a date with my Nintendo Switch!"
"Grace is coming"
"…"
":D"
"Fine,"
"Perfect, pick you up in 30 then?"
"Wait is Grace riding with you?"
"Nah she's going with some friends, they're getting ready with makeup and outfits."
"Don't you have to do that too?"
"No"
"Figures, alright I'll just get ready then
To be honest with you, I'm not really a fan of big parties. Or I suppose more precisely, I don't like partying at big parties or partying in general for that matter. Too many drunkards doing dumb things, drugies doing dumb things, and other degenerates doing dumb things without a care in the world.
Not that I'm saying I don't partake once in a while or that I'll judge you for doing so, it's just... well... I like to stay in control when business opportunities are present.
-1 hour later-
I entered with Oliver into Neo's lake house; my eyes were already scanning the area. It's early in the evening, the guests are still sober. Most had gotten past the initial awkward talking phase and begun pouring drinks slowly loosening up. I looked right at Neo's dining tables. Most were filled with food and snacks but I ensured one was completely empty. That'll come in handy later.
For now though, I walked to where I remember Neo kept his big projector to play movies against a wall. It was Sunday so of course football games were on. There I see a dorky-looking teenager with thick glasses on.
"Come on, tackle him what the fuck, don't let him bounce outside!"
His name is Jones, president of the high school's finance club. I had been friends with him before I was kicked out seeing how we shared similar interests. For a while, he even worked as an employee for me in middle school.
"I ain't doing it, that's going too far Debra!"
"Come on the margins are off the charts."
"No, no way I'm risking it."
He quit after I moved to selling tests. Dude believes in institutions too much. He's a straight-A honor student aiming for an Ivy University. He wasn't going to risk something that would actually affect his academic record. We stayed friends though and were part of the same group chat online centered around, well…
"Giants ML +200 book it!"
"Dude they're playing their backup QB."
"Book it!"
See, like most smart young business-minded individuals that moved here from New York, Jones had a keen interest in degenerate sports betting. The number of yolo parleys this guy makes would put pirates to shame. It's a gambling addiction though, of course, he won't admit it. I'll be real, I'm addicted too but at least I follow the number 1 rule of sports betting.
"Giants +4000 Super Bowl are good odds, trust!"
"Dude… they finished dead last last year."
"Book it! Throwing $1000 as we speak! 1000 on the division +1000, 2000 on +300 playoffs. This year's different, we're fully healthy, we can compete!"
Those were the beginning of the season texts Jones had sent our chat. Since then the Giants went 1-5 to start the season. Their 1 win was against the other worst team in the league whose starting quarterback happened to be injured.
"Did you see that win last week? We're in itttttt"
"Copium take"
Those were the texts in chat last week. I look over at the score now. It's 21-14 with the Giants losing to Washington. Perfect score to give a die-hard fan false hope.
"Will you excuse me for a second Oliver," I said as I make my way towards Jones.
"Wait what? Where are you going? Don't leave."
"Ayeeeeee Debra what's up?"
Suddenly Steve and Bill showed up to say hi.
"Yo, sick party, you plan this one?"
"Hey, what's up? Yeah, it was for a client."
"Hey yo, Bill, check it out, it's what's his face. The smart dude who did our homework."
"Oh yeah, hey what's up man."
"Uhhhh… hi"
Perfect.
"Say, Bill, Steve. I got some business to take care of real quick. Why don't you take Oliver here and pour some shots out? Can you believe he's never drank before?"
"No wayyyyy for real man?"
"Uhhhh yeah, actually this is my first party so…"
"Damn bro, we gotta get you sloshed."
"For real man."
"Great, well you boys get to it then, I'll catch up with you guys later."
"Wait, Debra…"
"Alright let's head to the kitchen man," Steve said putting an arm around Oliver and pulling him away.
"You wanna start with a beer or go straight to the hard stuff. Oh… or maybe a keg stand."
"Uhhh…. beer I guess?"
They walked away as I refocused on my target. By the look on Jones' face and how he kept refreshing his phone, I could tell his prop bets weren't going well either.
"So…." I said walking up to him, "How's it going?"
He sighed closing his phone and looking up at me annoyed.
"You know damn well how it's going Debra, look at the damn score."
"Yeah I know, just think it's funny how much hopium you have on the 4th place team in the division."
Step 1: Tilt your target. Enrage every weak point of a die-hard fan's soul.
"I mean it's fine you'll always have those 2 with Eli, maybe you'll get one in the next… I don't know, century?"
"Fuck you,"
"I mean sure, your salary cap is screwed, your running back is a shell of himself, and your quarterback is injured again. But at least you have draft picks… oh wait."
"Fuck you,"
"Okay, so you traded all your picks for a safety who was arrested. It happens. I mean I get it, drugs are tempting. But don't worry, basketball season has started so you'll have uhh… the Knicks to root for?"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Jones let out a roar startling the other guests but bringing a smile to my face.
Gottem
"Fuck you, Debra, fuck you and your stupid Kansas City bandwagon. How much do you want to bet on today's game huh? I know what this is about. It's so obvious but fuck you. I hope a tornado tears through Kansas City."
"Heh heh"
Step 2: Begin negotiations.
"Oh I mean… what's the live line?"
"+250 and -350, let's chop at +300. 200 to 600"
"Hmm I don't know, feel like I need at least -200 odds seeing I'm taking a higher risk here…"
"Fuck you, why wouldn't I just bet online with better odds then?"
Step 3: Continue tilting them until they lose rational thought.
"Oh I mean you could do that, but where's the fun then? I mean it doesn't really matter to me, I'm up $500 betting against the Giants with you this year anyways. You really thought they'd get wins this year? Doesn't seem like it to me. Maybe you're scared."
"Fuck you."
"I mean are you even really a fan? You can break even with me only risking $250 you know."
"Fuck you this is bait."
"I guess you just have no faith. Fake Fan, feel like the Cowboys even have more guys than…"
"Fuck you, Fuck you, Fuck you! Alright alright fine whatever, $250."
"Shake on it?"
"Fuck you." He replied shaking my hand. We turned back to the TV where it appeared the Giants were at the 20-yard line about to score.
"Come on Mullens I believe…"
"And Mullens with the ball," the announcer said, "I formation, takes the pass, play action. Rolls right, avoids a tackle going end zone…"
"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuu," the people in the room collectively gasped.
"Intercepted by Washington."
"NO! Fuck you Mullens this is why you're a career backup."
"Ahahaha, as expected."
The rest of the game went pretty much the same for the Giants. By the middle of the 4th, the score was Washington 35, Giants 10. I heard a cashier sound as I pulled out my phone to see Jones had already sent the money.
"Ahhhh giving up already? How about we put some on the spread?"
"Fuck you, I'm going to get wasted than become a priest and never gamble again."
He stood up to walk out of the room.
"Alright, see you in chat later!" I said waving at him. Another smirk showed on my face. Jones would get drunk soon. Around me, a lot of the other attendants were buzzed as well. Perfect time to bust out phase 2. Which was…"
"Yooooooooo master!"
As I turned around a pair of hands grabbed my shoulders from the front.
"Oliver? What the... "
"Dang, did you always have 4 eyes?"
Behind him, I saw Steve and Bill standing there with drinks in hand
"Steve, how much did he drink?"
"Not that much mang, I gave him like what, 4 shots?"
"Yeah, I'd say about," Bill added, "and a few mixed drinks."
"Oh yeah, and he did a keg stand too."
"What…" I looked at the time on my phone. "You did all that in 45 minutes? Are you crazy?!?! It's literally his first time drinking."
"Master… master…"
Oliver at this point was gurgling as he began hugging my knees again.
"Yeah, I don't know Debra. I didn't think it was that much. Dude's been off the rails though! He's been talking to us about uhh… his Wifi or something?"
"Oh yeah, the elf girl. Shit yeah, dude's like mad in love or something it's wild. We've been giving him some advice and stuff though. Chicks are rough."
"Okay… but you guys do realize I'm a…"
"You can't tell anyone!"
Oliver suddenly shot up hugging me and putting his mouth close to my ear.
"You can't tell anyone."
"Oliver, what are you doing?"
"Grace looks exactly like my waifu."
"What, what the fuck does that even mean? Also, dude, you realize everyone can hear you right?"
"Heyyyyyyyy…"
We turned around to the voice of the devil wearing a backpack, who in 3rd grade broke our dad's favorite vase and then blamed it on me likely leading me down this path of seeking only monetary gains after realizing the truth that there was no justice in the world.
"Oh hey, sis."
"Yooooo Grace what's up," Steve said.
"What's uppppp, did I just hear my name just now?"
"Huh?" I replied, "Yeah Oliver here was just talking about his Wifi or… Oliver?"
"Awewooewo."
"What the…"
I turned around to see Oliver hiding behind me burying his face in my back.
"Hi, Oliver!"
Oliver raised his hand giving a small wave at Grace not moving his face from my back.
"Ahahaha, good to see you too."
"Yooooo you got in the bag what I think you got Grace?" Steve asked.
"Hell yeah," Grace said unzipping her bag.
"Siiiiickkkkk," Steve and Bill said in unison as Grace took out a colorful glass bong.
"You bring that other thing for me?" I asked.
"Ughhhhh yeah," Grace said rolling her eyes. She took from her bag a large silver rectangular case. "Even here all you can think about is money?"
"Yes."
"Whatever, you get that room reserved for us?"
"3rd floor, take a right, bathroom at the end."
"Bathroom?" Bill asked face lighting up, "Does that mean…"
"Yep," Grace said, "Get ready boys we're going to the trenches."
"Sweet."
"Sweet."
Just for reference, "the trenches" refers to the area where Grace goes to hotbox, usually a bathroom. And if you're not old enough to know what a hotbox means, search it up and then bring your parents' credit card to my shop.
"Does Oliver want to come with?" Grace asked. I turned around to see Oliver still with his face buried in my back.
"I don't know if that's a good idea. It's his first time drinking. Sure, his first time smoking would be pretty hilarious to see. I'd probably laugh my ass off but…"
I paused for a moment looking back at Oliver.
"You know what, on second thought yeah Oliver, why don't you go with them?"
"Hell yeah, you're getting greens bro," Steve said putting an arm around Oliver and dragging him up.
"Wait no master but…"
"It'll be fun don't worry." Grace interrupted with a smile as the 3 of them began walking away, "Did you say something about waifus earlier?"
"What what no I… no what's that?"
I was left alone there again now with the rectangular case Grace had given me. I looked around the room. At this point, I must have been the only sober one there. I walked back to the kitchen area. Jones is there a few shots deep talking to some of his cronies about some option plays.
"BBBY calls book it; it's the next game stop. Shit can't go tits up," He told them as they laugh in agreement. Perfect.
"Yo," I said going up to him.
"Yo," his cronies said back except for Jones who just rolls his eyes as I approach.
"You again?"
"I couldn't help but overhear, you guys talking about options?"
"Hell yeah, stocks just go brrrr these days."
"Yeah recessions over, stonks only go up."
"Ahaha is it really? I don't know, I only have stocks in tech. Feel like blue chips are the way to go."
I was lying of course. I lost half my savings last year in crypto shitcoins. Well, not lost necessarily. You haven't lost anything until you sell. Either way, I wasn't going to tell them though.
"Yeah,"
"Yeah," Jones's cronies said in unison lowering their heads.
"That's probably more responsible."
"All this money talk has me fiending though," Jones said pointing to my case, "That what I think it is Debra?"
"Hell yeah," I said opening the case slightly. Inside was an assortment of circular chips of different colors. Potato chips? Nah, poker chips. The perfect time to bust it out when everyone's more confident than they are rational.
"Oh damn, what stakes you play Debra?"
"Oh, I mean any's fine with me. 10 25 cents, 25 50,"
"How about 50 cents dollar," Jones said," He glared at me with static coming out of his eyes clearly still enraged from earlier.
"Oh big stakes," I replied glaring back with a smirk, "But alright sure let's do it. There's an empty table right there."
Yeah, this is why I asked for the empty table. Soon more attendants with drinks in hand would be joining. With enough alcohol everyone's a fish. Scamming high schoolers really is the most profitable.