It was two in the afternoon when Spike stepped over the threshold of the casino floor.

It was densely packed, equal parts tourists wandering in from off the Strip and weekend warriors from Manehattan (some in suits and ties). Its atmosphere was luxurious and the décor was colorful. Huge crystal chandeliers hung from the cavernous ceiling. Gaming tables, widely spaced, were scattered around the huge room, slot machines fanned out on all sides. Poker games were in progress at three, a spirited game of Pedro at the fourth, a quiet game of whist at one isolated in the corner; and near the center of the room stood a Roulette table with a solid platinum Roulette wheel and half a dozen players watching the croupier as he dexterously set the ball clinking onto the spinning wheel’s cone.

Crowds three people deep were gathered around each of the tables; most of the men played cards, laughing hard at many points during their games, while many others just talked with one another, sipping drinks at the bar, with scantily clad women hanging on their elbows.

It was unreal.

“Look at these people,” Spike thought, “blinded by glitter and the almighty dollar.”

As he moved through the crowd, Spike’s experienced eye picked out the over-sized bouncers, real plug-uglies with narrow eyes that Spike knew were quite dexterous with sheath knives, rabbit punches, and groin kicks. The buxom showgirls that brushed past him undoubtedly had concealed carries tucked into their garters or worn as belt ornaments in beaded leather holsters. Spike didn’t blame any of them for this added precaution; he knew from personal experience just how valuable those small but lethal surprises could be in a pinch. As Owlowiscious led him across the casino floor, Spike absently patted the derringer resting in his fob pocket, thankful that no one had found him secretly packing.

“Did you see the Princess walk by?” one of the patrons asked. “Maybe we’ll win big now!”

“She touched my hand!” another exclaimed. “She really touched me! Now, I’ll win the jackpot for sure!”

“I want her to touch me, too!”

“Twilight, s’up?”

“Hi, Twilight!”

“It’s Twilight!”

“Hey, Twilight!”

“Hi, there!”

Owlowiscious led Spike to a group that had gathered around a woman with long sapphire hair, wearing a low cut violet vest, matching miniskirt and heels.

“Is she the one everyone’s been talking about?” Spike thought.

She had been walking toward the Blackjack tables when a coin rolled across the floor and stopped at her feet. She picked it up and spoke to a man sitting at one of the slot machines.

“Excuse me, did you drop this?” she asked him.

“Yeah, I did. Thanks a lot,”

She inserted the coin into the machine for him. He pulled the handle, got a match, and coins spilled out of the machine.

“Unbelievable,” Spike whispered.

“Everyone loves it when Twilight shows up,” one woman said.

“Loves it,” another added.

Spike continued to follow Twilight until she took her position behind the horseshoe-shaped table. Two people, a prim, beautiful woman dressed in red, with high, platinum blonde hair and green eyes; and a tall, strongly built man, with green eyes, wearing an amber suit coat, a bolo tie and a white ten-gallon hat, were already seated at it.

These two were big spenders, Spike could tell.

If they were betting twenty-five dollars a hand at Blackjack—or a roll of the dice, a pull on the slots, a spin of the Roulette wheel—(and they were) they got a special room rate and a smile from the desk clerks. Seventy-five bucks a hand, they might get a free room. A hundred and fifty or higher—that was room, food, and beverages. But if they were High Rollers—betting five, ten, twenty thousand a stay—they were going to get the full treatment: a ride from the airport, a bucket of Champagne waiting for them next to the Jacuzzi, and a host to always offer them something—a free room, a free flight, tickets to shows, fights and private parties—and make sure everything ran smoothly.

The man in the bolo tie and cowboy hat played smoothly; making small talk with the dealer, barely looking at his cards, and making some of the strangest plays Spike had ever seen. He kept hitting like a madman, for the most part, taking as many cards as he could—even busting with four cards after hitting on a seventeen. He never celebrated when he won, and never complained when he lost. In fact, he didn’t seem that interested in the game at all.

Spike watched him and the lady in red for a few more minutes before he approached, taking note of the sign that said that the table’s minimum bet was ten dollars and the maximum was five thousand.

The dealer looked at Spike and asked, “Try your luck, friend?”

Spike shrugged and said, “Why not?”

“After all, all work and no play makes Spike a dull boy,” he added in thought.

The cowboy turned to Spike and smiled at him.

“You’re new around here, aren’t ya?” he asked.

“Yes,” Spike answered.

“My name’s Bushel. Come on, sit down,”

“The Princess of Friendship, I presume?” Spike addressed the dealer as he took the stool next to Bushel and placed his briefcase beneath it.

“Yes, I am Twilight Sparkle,” she replied. “How’s your stay been?”

“Just checked in,” he said. “I’m Spike, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Good luck,”

“Thank you,”

Blackjack, also known as 21 (the number which defined the object of the game), was the most widely played banking game in the world—a card game where the players played against the dealer rather than each other.

It was also the only card game where a smart player had a mathematical advantage over the house, which always had an edge at the table.

But that was the nature of the game—and it was no different than any other business. One didn’t open a theater and let people in for free. They were charged for admission, the entertainment. That’s what Las Pegasus did. And the house’s edge was like the price of the ticket. Whenever people sat down to play a game, or pull a lever, the casino was providing them with an entertainment service. They paid for that service by losing more than winning. But the house didn’t always have an edge (except with the cheaters and the card counters); card counters did not alter the natural outcome of the game, nor did proficient counters employ devices to help them beat the house. But Spike Drake was different. He knew how to get his entertainment for free—and then some.

Spike knew how Blackjack was played. The dealer dealt each player two cards, they added them together and tried to get closest to twenty-one without going over. If a player wanted another card, they pointed to the table (or said “Hit me”); and if they wanted to stand, they waved their hand (or said “I’ll stay”).

The object of the game was to beat the dealer one of three ways: get 21 points on the first two cards, reach a final score higher than the dealer without going over 21, or let the dealer draw additional cards until their hand exceeded 21. And if the player hit twenty-one on their first two cards, the casino paid them one and a half times their bet.

The rules were fairly simple, as card games went; but the strategy was tricky, and Spike was by no means an expert. The players went first, the dealer second. The dealer’s play depended on the casino, but usually they would hit until their cards added up to seventeen—or until they busted. If a player got pairs of the same card, they could split them and have two bets going on separate hands, and (depending on the casino) they could double their bet—double down—on the first two cards, taking a single card (a Face Card) in the hopes of beating the dealer for more money. That gave people a chance to increase their odds, but it also doubled the risk. The only proper time to split pairs was when the dealer’s hand would be weaker than each of the players’ two new hands.

Picture Cards, also known as Face Cards (Kings, Queens and Jacks), were worth ten points, while Aces were worth either one or eleven (depending on the rules of the house), and all the other cards (2-10) were worth their pip value.

“Run ‘em, Twilight,” Bushel said. “Make ‘em nice and friendly, ‘cause ain’t no bread in the house.”

“Place your bets,” Twilight told them.

The lady in red placed a single green chip, worth $25, on the betting circle; Bushel wagered two black chips, each worth $100; and Spike bet one of the complimentary chips that Miss Pommel had given him at the front desk; a yellow chip worth $1,000.

Twilight’s hands moved gracefully as she dealt each of them two cards face down, then two for herself. Then she flipped over one of her cards, revealing the Queen of Clubs.

Contrary to what many novices believed, the goal of blackjack was not to get the best hand possible; it was to beat the dealer’s hand. The key was to understand that the dealer’s advantage was based entirely on the fact that they drew after the players. The dealers were constrained by the house rules, which meant they were usually forced to hit until they either reached seventeen or busted. Therefore, the players’ strategy was to try to calculate what the dealer’s most likely hand was going to be, and then draw until their own hands were higher. If the dealer was most likely to bust (and they did about 28 percent of the time), the players simply needed to stand on any two cards over eleven.

The players’ calculations were based on what the dealer was showing. If the dealer had a strong card—like a ten or an ace (which Twilight did)—then the odds were high the dealer had a good hand and wouldn’t need to take a third card from the deck. That meant the players had to keep hitting until they had a strong hand for themselves. If the dealer showed a weak card—like a five or a six—they would most likely take that third card, and the players could usually stick with their first two cards. Therefore, the odds of busting were high, and it made sense to stand.

The lady in red looked at her cards. She had the Ten of Diamonds and the Five of Clubs. She paused, trying to decide whether to stand or take the next card.

“Now, Silver Waves, you’ve got fifteen and the dealer’s showing ten,” Bushel said to her.

“Do I hit, Bushel, or do I stand?” she asked.

“If you wannna win, you’ve gotta hit,”

Spike was actually surprised that the cowboy was so quick to offer advice... and that the lady was so quick to ask for it. Then again, they were both playing against the house and (in a way) had a common foe in Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight didn’t seem to mind.

“Hit me,” she told Twilight.

Twilight gave her another card: the King of Clubs. That put her at 25.

“Player busts,” Twilight said.

“Damn!” Silver Waves cursed.

Bushel looked at his cards: the Three of Spades and the Nine of Spades. He smiled at Twilight and said, “Hit me.”

She dealt him another card—the Nine of Clubs.

“Twenty-one,” Twilight said.

Spike looked at his cards and said, “Hit me.”

The Three of Clubs.

“Hit me,”

The Two of Hearts.

“One more,”

“Boy, you’ve got brass!” Bushel stated. “Do you know what the odds are on a five-card Charlie? Tartarus, you’re just throwing your money away!”

“If the object of the game is to get a total of 21, I will definitely need another card,” Spike replied. He looked at Twilight again and said, “Hit me.”

Twilight dealt him one more card—the Nine of Hearts—that, plus the previous two, put Spike at fourteen. Then he revealed the first two cards Twilight had dealt him: the Two of Clubs and the Five of Hearts.

“Twenty-one,” Twilight said.

Even with the final Nine, the two Twos, the Three and the Five prevented Spike from going bust.

“How’d you--?” Bushel began. “Well, shut my mouth!”

Twilight flipped over her second card, revealing the Nine of Diamonds.

“Dealer has nineteen. Good start,” she told them as she collected their cards and shuffled them back into the deck.

“Say, you’re not one of them card counters, are ya?” Bushel asked.

Twilight fumbled with the deck as she shuffled, but quickly recovered. She thought Bushel had directed the question at her, but she saw that he had been talking to Spike.

“The number of the cards and their values remain quite constant,” he told Bushel. “What would be the purpose of counting them?”

Bushel and Silver Waves nodded before Spike said, “Deal ‘em up.”

Twilight finished shuffling as they placed their bets. Silver Waves put down four greens chips ($100), Bushel wagered two black chips ($200) as he had before, and Spike bet two yellow chips ($2,000).

Twilight dealt them each two cards, and then two for herself. Then she flipped over one of hers, and it showed the Queen of Spades.

Silver Waves had the Ten of Hearts and the Two of Diamonds. She needed Nine to make 21.

“Hit me,” she said.

Twilight dealt her the King of Clubs, putting her over at 22.

Bushel had the Six of Clubs and the Seven of Spades—Thirteen.

“Hit me,” he said.

Twilight dealt him the Six of Hearts. That put him at nineteen and he stayed.

Spike glanced at Silver Waves and asked, “Weren’t you over at the Roulette table before?”

“I was,” she replied. “I like Roulette. Do you like Roulette?”

“Roulette’s for lonely widows and Frenchmen,” Spike said. “I also believe that slots attract an undesirable element.”

He looked at his cards, the Eight of Clubs and the Eight of Spades. He said, “Hit me”, and got the Five of Spades—Twenty-One.

Twilight flipped over her other card: the Jack of Spades. That put her at twenty. Everyone made the same bets again. Then Twilight dealt the cards and flipped over one of hers, showing the Ten of Spades.

Silver Waves glanced at her cards. She had the Queen of Diamonds and the Six of Spades (Sixteen), now she needed a Five to make 21.

“Hit me,” she said.

The Six of Diamonds—that put her at 22.

“Shoot!” she exclaimed.

Bushel looked at his cards, the King of Spades and the Five of Diamonds, and said, “Hit me.”

The Six of Clubs.

“Twenty-one,” Twilight said.

Spike got the Ten of Hearts and the Five of Clubs. He hit twice, getting the Two of Diamonds and the Four of Spades—Twenty-one. Twilight turned over her second card, revealing the Ten of Diamonds—twenty again.

As Twilight changed decks, Spike reached into his vest. He pulled out four stacks of orange chips, each worth ten thousand dollars—well beyond the table limit—placed them on the table, and pushed them into the betting circle.

“I was thinking of betting fifty chips this time. Is that all right?” he asked.

Bushel and Silver Waves went dead silent while everyone else within 15 feet of the table gasped and crowded around them.

“Fifty?” someone asked. “That’s half a million!”

“Big bet for a big man!” said another.

“What do you think that sign’s there for, to hold down the table?”

“How can he just--?” Silver Waves thought.

“I like your spirit,” Bushel told Spike, “but don’t you think you’ve won enough already?”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak and the pit boss, a tall, thin, auburn-haired beauty named Sassy Saddles, approached the table.

“Sure you don’t want to save a few bucks for the buffet?” Sassy asked.

“I want to see how well I do against three hands,” Spike replied.

“Whoa, dude! You’ve already established that you’re a risk-taker,” Bushel said, “but I didn’t think you’d live on the edge!”

“Oh?” Spike replied.

Sassy nodded to Twilight.

“Let him play,” she said.

“Another rich kid doing something stupid,” she thought. “This’ll be sweet.”

Silver Waves and Bushel decided to sit this one out. Spike looked at his cards (being careful not to show them to anyone) and said, “I’ll stay.”

Twilight flipped over the second cards for her three hands.

Her first pair was the Nine of Clubs and the Ten of Diamonds.

Her second pair was the Queen of Hearts and the Jack of Spades.

And the third pair was the King of Clubs and the King of Diamonds.

A nineteen and two twenties.

Spike smirked as he showed the King of Hearts and the Ace of Spades.

“Blackjack,” he said.

He won against all three of her hands.

“Boy, you are on fire!” Bushel exclaimed.

“He’s good,” one of the patrons said. “He is good.”

“Are you a professional?” Silver Waves asked.

Spike told them that he wasn’t, but they were beginning to suspect, at least from the way he played, that he was a serious gambler.

Up in the security office, Applejack and two of the enforcers, Caramel and Lucky Clover, were watching Spike on the monitor through a fisheye camera hanging from the ceiling in the casino pit.

“Can you believe this guy?” Caramel asked. “He’s taking the house to the cleaners.”

“More like he’s killing it,” Lucky Clover added. “Most of these people play like morons.”

“He workin’ a system?” Applejack asked.

“Nothin’ I ever seen,” Caramel replied. “He just rakes it in.”

“A high roller?” Lucky Clover asked. “Somebody we’ve seen before?”

“He’s nobody,” Caramel said.

“How much you want to bet now?” Twilight asked.

Spike organized and restacked the pile of orange chips in front of him. He reached for 120 of them—1.2 million—and shoved them toward Twilight.

“That’s it, Spike, show them who’s boss,” Bushel said. “It’s people who come here and blow the family nest egg that built this town. Not this pretty boy.”

Twilight had the Queen of Spades and the Ten of Hearts.

Spike got the Jack of Spades and the Ace of Diamonds.

“Blackjack again,” he said. “I think I’ll cash out before you run out.”

“Is something wrong?” Twilight asked. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet all of a sudden.”

“Not really,” Spike replied. “In fact, it was just starting to get interesting.”

Even half the money Spike had just won was more than enough to make any man’s hands tremble, but it wasn’t something that would impress the people who really knew him.

They would be much more interested in the briefcase beneath his stool.

Spike paused. Then he took his seat again after a moment of thought.

“How would you feel about letting me play one more game?” he asked.

Silver Waves gasped and said, “No! Don’t do it!”

“What an idiot!” Twilight thought.

“How much you want to bet?” she asked.

Spike placed his briefcase on the table, unlocked the catches, and opened the lid to reveal it stuffed with polished coins.

“I was thinking ten million... In silver,” he said with a smile.

“S-seriously?” Twilight asked. “That’s crazy!”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet all of a sudden,” Spike echoed. “Then again, after losing to me that many times in a row, I don’t blame you.”

“You stupid, arrogant rich son of some heiress!” Twilight cursed in thought. “How dare you underestimate me! Damn you, acting like this is nothing! Not that it matters. I’m going to win anyway!”

After Twilight shuffled the deck, Spike cut it with one hand. Silver Waves couldn’t help but whistle at Spike’s skill and Bushel said, “Pretty smooth.”

“What the Tartarus is he doing?” Silver Waves thought. “And yet, he’s so calm... How can he be so calm?”

Twilight was wondering the same thing.

“How the Tartarus is he so calm? He doesn’t think he can actually beat me, does he? No! There’s no way! It’s impossible! He doesn’t know what cards I’m going to draw! There’s no way he can best me! I’m going to deal myself 20, then I’m going to win, and he’ll end up with no way to win it back!”

Twilight dealt the cards and flipped over one of her own: the Ten of Spades.

Spike looked at his cards, the Three of Hearts and the Nine of Diamonds, and placed them, face down, on the table.

He looked at Twilight and smiled again.

“Why I ought to--” she thought furiously.

“Hit me,” Spike told her.

“That’s it!” Twilight thought. “You are dead!!”

And she dealt him another card: the King of Diamonds.

That, plus the Nine and the Three, put Spike over at 22.

Twilight flipped over her second card, the Queen of Spades; that put her at 20. She smiled.

Spike flipped his own cards over, revealing the Three of Hearts and the Eight of Diamonds. Those two, plus the King, put him at...

“Twenty-one,” he said. “Lucky me.”

Twilight’s jaw dropped as Spike swept up his winnings. He stuffed the yellow and orange chips into his briefcase with the silver. Then he tossed Twilight a single red poker chip (worth only $5) as a tip as he walked away, and she crushed it between her fingers in anger.

“Well, I’ve already found one of the cheaters in this building,” he whispered to himself as he walked.

“I’ll be sure to let the owners know,”

Spike spun around and came face to face with the pretty blonde that was standing next to the coat checkroom when he walked into the lobby; the resort’s head of security—Applejack.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “I’ve been keeping my eye on Twilight ever since she started work. I always knew she was countin’ cards, I just couldn’t prove it... until now. Come on.”

As Spike followed Applejack, they passed a handsome dandy seated at one of the Poker tables with a lady on each arm.

One had dark skin, a white and gray Mohawk, and wore a short, strapless, zebra-print dress and black heels. The other was pale and dressed in loose shorts, a simple T-shirt, an open purple jacket and cute shoes with high pink socks.

The dandy smiled as he placed his cards on the table.

Two Pair: Twos and Fours.

The dealer showed his own hand: Four Aces.

“I can’t seem to win!” the dandy exclaimed.

“Fancy, you’ve got to know when to bluff, and when you have played enough,” the woman in the zebra dress said.

“I’m too upset to play!” Fancy Pants said exasperatedly. “No, you’re right, Zecora. I should take it easy,” he added. “Winning is a matter of time and losing is part of the fun, in its own way.”

Fancy’s other escort wasn’t paying any attention. She was looking around the casino, daydreaming.

“I know my true love is out there,” she thought. “Somewhere.”

Her eyes stopped on a young man following the head of security to the bar.

“Ooh la la! Mon petite hunk!” she whispered with a gasp.

She reached into her purse, pulled out her trusty hand mirror, looked at her reflection, and then popped a peppermint into her mouth.

“If looks could kill, you would not be feeling so well,” she said to herself. “Beware my little chocolate croissant! I am going to gobble you up!”

Spike followed Applejack to the huge mahogany bar, which ran an equally long mirror with shelves of bottled liquor, imported wines, and an assortment of fine whiskeys. Spike caught sight of the bartender, who was cleaning a shot glass. He glanced up to meet Spike’s gaze as Spike found himself a stool and sat down.

“Set this one up, Joe,” Applejack said, “on me.”

“Sure thing, AJ,” the bartender replied. “What’s your poison?”

“Scotch on the rocks,” Spike answered. “And I mean ice,” he added. “Thanks,” he said to Applejack.

“My pleasure,” she replied. “I’ll be honest I haven’t seen a beating like that since somebody stuck a banana down my brother’s pants and turned a monkey loose. I’d stay and have a drink with ya, but I’ve got to help clean the pool. Staff’s spread thin mopping up last night’s party, and they need me.”

Spike nodded as Applejack left and he saw another beautiful woman standing a few feet away and waving at him.

She had an unbelievable body. Her flawless white skin glowed. She had high cheekbones under large brown eyes, and her light gray, almost pink, hair fell down past her shoulders. Her hips were wide and her derrière firmly voluptuous. And a quick glance at her generous, upthrust breasts that the wrinkled shirt she wore failed to hide, told Spike that this woman was very well-endowed. Her breasts were large but firm, so firm that they bobbled only a little as she moved.

“Bonjour, mon amour,” she said.

“Moi?” he asked.

“Oui,” she replied. “Vous.”

Spike turned away to avoid her gaze, exhaled into his hand to check his breath, then faced her again.

“I apologize, that was a bit forward,” she said as she held her left hand out to him. “My name is de Lis. Fleur de Lis.”

“Spike Drake,” he replied.

His eyes dropped to her hand as he shook it, and he noted that she wasn’t wearing a ring.

“Enchanté et ravi to meet you,” she said. “Oh, I feel such a fool, forgive me, but I must say it. You are handsome. Is this your first time in Las Pegasus?”

“Is it that obvious?” he replied.

“Well, you are going to absolutely adore it,” she told him. “It is a wonderful, decadent city. We must get together sometime—all night parties, dancing, and, if you’re into it... midnight skinny dipping. Well, I must get back to my game. Au revoir!”

Spike’s heart pounded in his chest.

“At last, I have found you, my totally awesome beau!” Fleur said as she returned to Fancy Pants and Zecora.

She had felt like butter in his hand.

Spike turned around again to find his Scotch sitting on the bar, waiting for him. He downed it all and grinned from ear to ear.

“Sick parties... awesome rides... beautiful women -- I love this place!”

“I hate this place!” Rainbow Dash shouted.

While Spike was having a great time wandering around the resort, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Rarity, Soarin and Zephyr Breeze had been scrubbing the drained pools off the outside patio.

They were joined by Applejack and one of the waitresses from the Sweet Snacks Café. A sweet, raspberry-haired girl named Pinkie Pie.

“This bites!” Zephyr exclaimed.

“That’s resort life for you,” Pinkie said.

“What do you mean?” Dash asked.

“Well, usually we get the afternoons off. Then some kid has a diaper malfunction in the pool, and bam! We’re on scrubbing duty,” Pinkie explained.

“Eeyup,” Applejack added. “We all pitch in where we have to, whether it includes mopping up vomit or hosing down the sidewalks.”

“Okay, people, listen up,” Discord said as he walked along the pool’s edge. “Do I need to remind you what will happen if the investors return and see this? I will be fired, which means all of you will be too! Comprendez-vous?”

They all nodded in understanding.

“Okay, here’s a list of things I need done by this afternoon,” he told them as he handed a piece of paper to Rarity. “Tick-Tock, on the clock, the remains of that party aren’t going to clean themselves up!”

Suri Polomare, who was standing on a second-story balcony overlooking the pool, shouted down to them, “Anyone know how to get ketchup out of carpeting?”

Discord hung his head and mumbled, “I hate my life.”

As he walked off, the gang found themselves disliking Discord more and more. They didn’t care for him or his attitude towards them. He was just like the manager in every hotel-based sitcom they’d ever had: sweet with the customers (albeit begrudgingly), and a petty tyrant with the help.

But he had to be.

It was his job to make the guests’ stay as pleasant as possible. He sought out the big players, the high rollers, and gave them free stuff to keep them at the resort. He brought them to the casino—and he made sure that they kept coming back. Whatever it took, he kept them happy.

Once Discord was gone, Fluttershy asked, “So, where are you all working? I’m bussing drinks on the casino floor.”

“A Bunny Girl -- nice,” said Rarity. “Decent tip potential, except you have to wear those embarrassing outfits.”

“You are looking at the Midnight Lounge’s newest bartender and operator of the Wild Blue Yonder,” Soarin said proudly.

“What?!” Rainbow Dash shouted. “That’s my job!”

“Is your name Soarin?” he asked her.

“No,” she replied curtly.

“Then it’s not your job,” he said as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a letter of confirmation. “I got this in the mail two weeks ago.”

Rainbow Dash yanked the letter from Soarin’s hand and she skimmed it.

“Okay, there has to be a mistake!” she said. “They said it was practically guaranteed!”

Rarity took her reading glasses out of her blouse’s breast pocket and examined the letter herself.

“It’s legitimate,” she stated. “They do this all the time -- move staff around wherever they need to. It’s something you’ll have to get used to.”

“That is so unfair!” Dash exclaimed. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Let me check,” Rarity replied as she pulled her walkie-talkie out of her own back pocket. “Coco, darling, could you be a dear and check an employee posting for me under Rainbow Dash?”

“Hold on,” Miss Pommel replied. “Rainbow Dash... That’s housekeeping.”

“A maid?!” Rainbow Dash shouted. “No! Oh, no! I don’t even clean my own room!”

“Maybe it won’t be that bad,” Fluttershy said.

“Cheer up,” Soarin told her. “I might even give you free drinks.”

“Have you forgotten who I am?” Dash asked.

“No, you’re the new maid!” he replied.

“I am a three-time International Blackjack Champion,” she boasted. “I’m ranked number 56 in the world!”

“Yeah, 56 in the girls’ category!”

Fluttershy gasped as Applejack’s jaw dropped. Rarity said, “Oh, no, he didn’t!” and Pinkie added, “Oh, he did.”

“Well, I won’t be playing with girls at the city’s Poker Tournament this year!” Dash stated. “So if you’re man enough to enter, I’ll be happy to show you just how much butt I can kick!”

“Bring it on, Crash!”

“I will! And don’t call me ‘Crash,’ Clipper!”

“That’s enough, both of you!” Rarity shouted, stepping between them. “We still have to clean the hot tub filters and put together new deck chairs. You can kill each other after, not before.”

“What happened to the old ones?” Fluttershy asked.

“They had a huge bonfire in the parking lot last night and ran out of wood to burn,” Rarity explained.

“Those were some good hotdogs,” Zephyr said.

“Damn it!” Soarin shouted. “Why couldn’t we have arrived yesterday? I love a good weenie roast!”

“Ugh!” Dash exclaimed. “You are so annoying!”

After they finished scrubbing the pools and hot tub (filters included), they got to work on building the new chairs. As the guys worked on one, Zephyr Breeze leaned over to Soarin and whispered, “Hey, you think Rainbow Dash is into me?”

They both looked over at her, and she glared back at them.

“She is definitely not into you, man,” Soarin replied. “This is not the look of a woman who is ‘into you.’”

“Maybe you’re right,” Zephyr said.

Celestia sat on a couch, on the 31st floor of the resort, in the owners’ office. It was a blue room raucous with old photographs and even older carny posters.

They had told her to make herself at home, which she did. They offered her coffee and a smoke after introductions, but she politely refused both. She did, however, take a piece of cake. Celestia never turned down sweets.

The Flimflam Brothers, the owners, stood tall, and everything they did from the way they moved to how they spoke seemed to charm and confuse people, dazzle and disorient. Their vests were blue with white stripes, their hair red, their eyes the color of pistachios, their skin olive, and they both smiled big and wide.

“How are you enjoying our resort?” Flim asked.

“Everything is splendid as usual,” Celestia replied.

“Glad to hear it,” said Flam.

“We hope you continue to enjoy yourself,” Flim added.

“I always do,” Celestia said.

“And don’t worry,” Flim reassured her. “Our staff and we will take care of Spike and make sure he has everything he needs.”

“Everything within reason, that is,” added Flam.

There was a knock at the door and Flim called out, “Come in!”

It was Spike, flanked by Applejack and Rarity.

After they had finished washing the resort’s golf carts, the gang found Spike checking out the putting green close by. Then they offered to show him to his room... after a stop at the bosses’ office.

“Spike, this is Flim and Flam, the owners of the resort,” Celestia introduced their hosts.

“Nice to meet you,” Spike said cordially.

“We see you’ve already become acquainted with some of our employees,” Flim observed.

“Oh, yes,” Spike replied, smiling.

“We were just explaining to Spike that the summer season runs from the first of June to the end of August,” Rarity told the Brothers.

“I’m also here to report that I can confirm that our star dealer has been cheating at cards,” Applejack added. “And you have this guy to thank.”

“We know,” Flim replied.

He motioned to a wall of security monitors behind his desk, next to the colossal window overlooking the city. Footage of Spike and Twilight at the Blackjack table appeared on the largest screen.

“That was quite the display,” Flam added. “No one has ever been able to beat Twilight Sparkle at Blackjack. No one except us, of course.”

“She doesn’t let anyone win that she doesn’t want to,” Flim went on. “You’re not on any list, and we don’t have your picture in our card counter file.”

Spike exhaled unsurprised.

“I don’t count cards,” he stated. “Card counting is time-consuming, and it takes nearly 18 hours to show a profit. And those who do count cards end up losing more than those who don’t. It takes discipline, dedication, and good math skills. I calculate odds. I view the table and remember past hands and combinations and use that to determine my wager. When the odds are too high I simply sit out a hand. I just use my head to take advantage of an opportunity. I also can’t stand people who refuse to let others win.”

“I can vouch for that,” Celestia confirmed. “And from your description of her, Miss Sparkle seems to fall into that category.”

The Brothers were fairly sure that was as innocent, and honest, of an answer as they were going to get, so they didn’t press it any further.

Flam did, however, say, “Miss Sparkle can be ruthless at times, but that doesn’t change the fact that she is our most valuable employee. In her eyes, you’ve got two strikes against you: you’re handsome and you’ve been educated beyond Miss Soleil’s School for Gifted Youths.”

Spike didn’t like what he was hearing. He wasn’t easily intimidated, and he hated being bullied by thugs. But he kept his mouth shut.

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Applejack,” said Flim. “We will continue to monitor Twilight’s dealings. If this happens again, we will take drastic action.”

“And Spike,” Flam added, “if Miss Sparkle gives you any trouble, tell us and we will get her to back off. But be careful,” he warned. “From now on, we’re keeping our eye on you too.”

Spike nodded.

“If there is nothing else, sirs, we will show Mr. Drake, Miss Soleil, and the new staff to their rooms,” Rarity offered.

“Thank you,” Celestia said as she, Spike, Rarity, and Applejack left.

After the doors closed behind them, the Brothers’ returned their attention to the wall of monitors and zoomed in on the footage of Spike. As Spike cut the deck one-handed on the last game, one of the cards slipped down his sleeve before he handed them back to Twilight. Then, when his hand was still covering his cards (when he placed them back on the table), he subtly swapped one of them out for the one that was up his sleeve.

“The hand is quicker than the eye,” the Brothers quoted.

Normally they would have a cheater taken to the meat plant. By the next morning they would be served with eggs and toast in diners across the city. But Spike intrigued them. They figured he would be more valuable to them alive. And they started wondering how they could use him to their advantage...

“Impressive security system,” Spike commented as he, his mother, Rarity and Applejack crammed into the elevator with Fluttershy, Soarin, Rainbow Dash and Zephyr Breeze... and their luggage.

“Best there is,” Applejack said. “And I should know; I helped build it. Nothing happens in this place without me, and Flim and Flam, knowing about it. We catch everything.”

Spike looked up and noticed the camera right there in the elevator, watching them as they spoke. He had spotted several of them in the restaurants, the hotel hallways, everywhere but the restrooms. There were people who spent all day and night staring at TV monitors linked to every single one of those cameras, trying to see faces that they recognized, and Applejack was the one in charge of them.

“So, you all live in the hotel?” Spike asked.

“That’s right,” Applejack replied.

Spike figured the staff had their own living quarters, but he didn’t think that they would actually be on the premises. Most vacation spots, at least the ones he’d visited, had staff houses in a second location. But then he thought it was probably more convenient for the bosses and the employees that they stayed close by in case they were needed. That made more sense.

He noticed back in the owners’ office that they had the floor plans for the third floor, the staff quarters, sprawled on one of their tables. Ten in the west wing, ten in the center, and ten more in the east wing. Half of them singles, half of them doubles, all had magnificent views. Spike had wondered what it would be like to actually live in a hotel.

The elevator slowed to a smooth stop and the doors opened to the staff floor, which started with an open sitting area with a hallway at both ends (leading to the east and west wings). Spike and the girls exited the elevator (Celestia had gotten off on the twenty-seventh floor) and they saw one of the chairs and one of the sofas occupied by three young women in brightly colored outfits.

One of the two on the couch had luminous orange hair with brilliant yellow streaks, which was done up in a very high poof. She wore a purple and gold ensemble that consisted of a low-cut top, pale fingerless gloves, matching stockings, platform boots with a belt (both gold and decorated with numerous spikes), and tight shorts.

The second woman had twin purple pigtails with streaks of aquamarine mixed into them, and was wearing a sleeveless jacket, a crop top, dark jeans with matching boots, and a purple belt with a star-shaped buckle. And the third had a long arctic blue ponytail with Persian blue stripes. She was sitting on the couch with the first woman, and she was wearing a purple halter top, a loose necktie, a blue belt, and pink shoes with a matching miniskirt.

They were all tall, buxom, and as beautiful as sirens.

“Sonata, what’s happening?” Zephyr said as he fist-bumped the girl with the blue ponytail.

“What’s up?” she replied.

“So you’re the guy who just rolled into town and bested the star dealer at Blackjack?” the one with the orange poof asked Spike.

“I see news travels fast around here. I’m Spike,”

“Nice to meet you,” she replied.

“This is Adagio Dazzle, Aria Blaze and Sonata Dusk,” Rarity introduced the trio. “They’re returning staff.”

“Which means we’re like goddesses around here, and should be treated as such,” Adagio (the one with the orange poof) said.

“Don’t listen to her,” Aria told them. “She’s just full of hot air.”

Their voices were low and attractive, with a touch of authority.

“The firing rate currently stands at forty-two percent,” Adagio said. “So one of you is not going to last the week.”

“My money’s on him,” Rainbow Dash said, pointing at Soarin.

“Dare I ask why?” he replied.

“I don’t know. You just have that going-to-get-fired look about you,”

“Says the woman who’s clearly jealous that I got the most awesome job here,” Soarin countered.

“All right, boys’ rooms are in the east wing, girls’ are in the west,” Rarity told them. “Zephyr Breeze, you’re in 301. Soarin, you’re in 303. Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, mi casa es su casa.”

They both gave Rarity perplexed looks.

“You’re rooming with me,” she added as Applejack and Spike returned to the elevator and rode it up to his floor.

Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy followed Rarity down the hall, which was comfortably wide. The wallpaper was silk, and electric lights ten feet apart from each other, and about seven feet off the ground, were masked behind cloudy, cream-hued glass that was fashioned to look like gas lamps.

Rarity unlocked her room and ushered her new roommates in. It was a two-bedroom suite (one of which was already taken by Rarity). There were several comfortable, inexpensive chairs and a couch, a coffee table and a TV. It wasn’t anything special, but it had a sweeping view of the city and a luxurious living room space, and they hadn’t expected much.

Rainbow Dash told Fluttershy that she would take the couch. Fluttershy thanked her and hauled her bags into the other bedroom. Then Dash checked her cell phone and saw that she got a text message from her brother Rainbow Blaze.

“How’s it going so far?” it said. “Get a chance to ride the Wild Blue Yonder yet?”

“Not yet,” she texted him back. “So far, it sucks.”

Dash sat on the couch, took a breath, and remembered why she was there.

“I’m not here for the job or the room,” she told herself. “I’m here for the gambling and the rides.”

Up on the 26th floor, Spike twisted his key in the lock of the mahogany double doors to his suite and swung them wide.

“This is it,” Applejack told him, “home sweet home for the summer.”

The doors opened to living room with leather couches and armchairs, an antique coffee table, plush cream carpeting, and a large hearth with a fire already burning. It was adorned by magnificent paintings and other artworks, and the balcony window ran nearly the length of the room. And beyond it the Sun was poised directly between two mountains, casting golden light across their peaks.

Spike could barely believe that he was standing in a suite. It was bigger than any hotel room he had ever seen. It seemed too big for just one guest; too big for even a king.

“This is where I’ll be staying?” he asked.

“Eeyup,” AJ replied.

He walked through the living room to the bedroom, where his luggage was. There was a large dresser to the left, a small closet just to the right of the doorway, and a bookcase stood just beyond the king sized bed. But Spike was quickly taken by the object that hung on the wall across from the bed.

“That’s a 92-inch flat-panel HD plasma screen,” he said. “I didn’t think they really existed!”

Spike placed his briefcase (still full of silver coins and casino chips) on the dresser. Then he picked up another object and a black duffel bag from the pile of luggage by his bed and placed them on either side of the briefcase.

He placed both hands on the duffel bag, feeling the stacks of bills inside: a little over one million dollars, all in hundreds, all of it his own money.

“And through there,” Applejack pointed to a door beyond the bed, “is the bathroom.”

Spike entered it, then closed the door behind him and let out a gasp at what she was seeing. The bathroom was grand; it seemed almost as big as the living room. The wall tiles were the most pristine white that he had ever seen. It had a large marble counter with the sink taking up at least a quarter of its length, in the middle. It had both a marble Jacuzzi big enough for ten, maybe eleven people, and a shower for four or five (not a combo shower-bath) and, of course, a toilet. All the fixtures and taps looked golden, though they weren’t made of actual gold.

“This is great,” he said.

“Oh! How elegant!” someone cried out suddenly.

Spike had started loosening his tie when he exited the bathroom to find Applejack standing by the window. Rarity, Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash had joined her, and they were staring at the second object Spike had placed on the dresser before he checked out the bathroom. It was a clear, crystal egg as big as Spike’s head, studded with diamonds, rubies and gold.

“It’s simply exquisite,” Rarity gushed. “A real treasure.”

“That’s a Fabergé egg. They were made expressly for the Czars of Russia,” Spike explained to the group. “It’s priceless. I know several people who are eager to get their hands on it.”

The girls were more taken by the objects that were inside the egg: a gold necklace with a heart-shaped ruby at its center, and a single playing card with a sapphire blue number seven on one side and a golden Sun on the other.

“That’s got to be at least 20 karats!” Rarity said, admiring the necklace. “Precision cut, flawless clarity, no inclusions, pristine facets, great color...”

“It was my Mother’s,” Spike told her.

“It’s beautiful, darling,” said Rarity. “I’ve never seen anything so stunning.”

“And that’s a Gate, isn’t it?” Rainbow Dash inquired about the card.

Spiken nodded.

“That is so awesome! I’ve never seen a Gate in real life before. I knew you were cool, but I had no idea you were a Gate Holder,” Dash added.

“What are you talking about?” Fluttershy asked.

“You mean you don’t know?” asked Rarity.

“Duh, that’s why she asked!” Dash replied.

“The Gates are a group of thirteen cards issued by a really famous organization known as the International Casino Dealers’ Guild,” Rarity explained. “These special cards were distributed throughout Equestria and the surrounding regions, and the people who possess them are known as Gate Holders.

“Well, that makes sense,” Fluttershy said.

“It’s common for extremely skilled dealers to challenge each other in Grand Gate Battles and earn the others’ Gates as a prize,” Rarity went on. “And whoever collects all thirteen Gates will be named the Guild’s top dealer, complete with all the fame and fortune that comes with it! Their name will be known across the entire world!”

“I can’t believe you have such a rare card,” Dash told Spike.

“I’m really not all that special,” he replied modestly. “I only got the card as a gift.”

“What?” Rarity asked. “You mean someone just gave it to you?”

“Yeah, some guy asked me to take his place in a game a long time ago,” Spike recalled.

Spike thought back to when he was still in college. The game was a single match of Closed Poker and his opponent lost after trading in his cards. The guy had nothing – the Six of Clubs, the Eight and Ten of Diamonds, the Queen of Hearts, and the Three of Spades – and Spike won with a full house: three Kings (Hearts, Spades and Clubs) and two Aces (Spades and Clubs).

The gentleman who had asked Spike to play for him stepped out of the crowd and said, “That was an incredible game. Please, take this. You’re far more worthy of holding it than I am.”

Spike could barely remember the gentleman’s face, but he promised that he would honor the man’s wish.

“I didn’t even really do anything,” Spike said softly. “I just got lucky.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Fluttershy replied. “Clearly you have what it takes to become the top dealer.”

Spike thought about it for a moment.

“I guess,” he said. “But it might just be a dream.”

Suddenly, they heard screaming coming all the way from the staff quarters. A scream from over 20 stories below, someone must have been in trouble—serious trouble. Spike and Applejack ran down the stairwell while Rarity, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy took the elevator.

Applejack exited the stairwell with Spike right behind her. They ran to AJ’s room and saw Sunset Shimmer standing in front of the door, a mixed look of terror, anger and disgust on her face. She was no longer wearing her sushi waitress uniform. She had changed into an orange halter top, blue jeans, black boots and a black leather jacket.

“Toilet backed up again?” Applejack asked after she caught her breath.

“Uh-huh,” Sunset confirmed. “Can you call maintenance?”

“Oh, I can call ‘em,” AJ replied. “They won’t come, but I can call ‘em.”

“Did you try telling Discord?” Spike inquired.

“It didn’t do any good,” Sunset answered.

“Word of advice, don’t get buddy-buddy with Discord, or the Flimflam Brothers,” Adagio advised him. “They’re all creeps and they’ll try to make you do all kinds of weird stuff.”

“They can be a pain, but they’re old-time showbiz,” Applejack added. “They’ve seen it all, most of it twice.”

“So you know how to win at Blackjack,” Aria said. “What else can you do?”

“Well, I play Poker and I shoot dice... I know the rules, anyway,” Spike replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, when we’re not working, you can find us gambling just about anywhere,” Sonata explained. “A lot of us are pretty rich, so the stakes can get pretty high.”

“And after seeing how you played against Twilight today, I’m sure you’ll get challenged sooner or later, so watch your back,” Aria warned.

“Challenged, huh?” Spike chuckled warmly. “And I thought my summer vacation was going to be boring.”

“So, do you have any other hobbies?” Sonata asked.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Fluttershy added.

“Tell us everything!” Rarity said.

“I enjoy ballroom dancing, training horses, and running with wolves,” he replied, “as far as girlfriends go, not at present.”

“Did you make all that cash you bet against Twilight by playing casino games?” Applejack inquired.

“No, I actually got it from working as a model,” he answered Applejack.

From the way Spike dressed, Rainbow Dash guessed, “Scotch ads?”

“No, actually, it was a bunch of commercials for cologne and body wash,”

“I knew it!” Sunset exclaimed. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere! You’re the spokesman for Dragon Spice!”

She reached into her jacket, pulled out a magazine, and turned it to a spot she had marked.

On one page was a picture of herself in a black bikini and posing with a bottle of nail polish called “Shimmering Sunset”, and on the other page was Spike, shirtless, riding a white horse bareback (on a beach, no less) and holding a bottle of the body wash she had mentioned.

“Could you please do a bit for us?” Fluttershy asked.

Spike smiled, cleared his throat, put on a charming face, planted one of his feet onto one of the couches, and posed like a swashbuckler.

“Do you feel that?” he asked in a rugged, manly voice. “That’s the feeling of every woman wanting you and every man wanting to be you. If you switch to Dragon Spice, you can be the man that men want to be, and women want to be with. Look at me, I’m on a horse! Dragon Spice also available in Alpha Dragon and Dragon Wolf.”

The girls stared at Spike awestruck, seeing him in a whole new light. Not only was he handsome, he had parlayed that into serious money.

“If you worked here, I think you’d rake in some serious cash,” said Sunset. “Who knows, this place might even be your future.”

“Maybe,” Spike replied.

“You don’t seem to have a high opinion of gambling,” Applejack observed, “but you gamble anyway. What’s the draw?”

“The very risk, I guess,” Spike said, taking his foot off the couch. “The nature of gambling is terrifying. You remember the thrill that comes from the fear of risking it all. That’s what fascinates me. But I always seem to win.”

“And what if you lose?”

The group turned and saw Twilight Sparkle standing in front of the bank of elevators.

“I do not lose, Miss Sparkle,” Spike said. “I always set out to do what I plan to do, and what I want is mine. I get what I want, and I get what I like.”

“Not every time, I’m sure,”

“I do,”

“There will come a time when you can’t,”

“I’m not worried,”

“Then tell me something,” Twilight said. “Who walks around with ten million dollars in silver coins?! You don’t just stake something like that on a single casual game of Blackjack! You just don’t! You don’t!!”

“But isn’t that what makes it fun?” Spike replied.

Spike’s words stunned Twilight so completely that she stared at him, unable to speak, and the white of his eyes went killer red.

“People love to gamble,” he said. “And Blackjack is so simple to the point that it seems almost fair. It’s really the only game that people believe they have a chance of winning. Now let me ask something: five rounds, seven hands, and you dealt yourself 20 all but twice, even when the stakes weren’t high... Did you really think that I wouldn’t notice? I don’t count cards, and my memory isn’t photographic like some people, but I saw you deal no less than a dozen faces; kings, queens, jacks, and a lot of tens... Way too frequently for a single-decked shoe. Sure, you threw in a few random cards, but camouflage is a poor tactic.”

Twilight kept staring at Spike. She hadn’t thought that he would be paying such close attention to the cards. Her strategy was crude, and her method flawed.

The red began to fade and the white slowly returned to Spike’s eyes as he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a Nine of Diamonds.

The card she had originally dealt for him on that last hand.

“You play your games, Twilight Sparkle, and I will play mine,” he told her as he handed the card back to her. “And if I don’t know the rules, all the better, for it will be much easier to ignore them. Like you, I play to win, and I will win!”

They locked eyes for five seconds before being interrupted by Discord’s loud voice over the intercom system.

“All new staff are to report to training immediately!” he shouted.

“Wait! We have to train today?” Fluttershy asked.

“This blows!” Dash exclaimed.

“Get used to it,” Aria told them. “Management owns your butt, my butt, all of our butts.”

“No one owns this butt except me!” Dash shouted as she pointed to her own rear end.

“This isn’t exactly how I thought it would be,” Fluttershy said.

“Me neither,” Soarin added.

“If I don’t see your faces in 20 seconds, I will fire the whole lot of you!” Discord yelled. “This is not a threat, it’s a promise, and I don’t tolerate slackers! Move it, people! Move it! Fifteen... fourteen... thirteen... twelve... eleven... ten... nine... eight...”

Well, I hope you all enjoyed that. Join us next time when the new employees report for duty at the Flimflam Brothers’ resort, and are faced with their first big challenge after being warned that Discord likes to celebrate the first day of summer by firing at least one junior staffer. Who will be the unlucky one sent packing? Meanwhile, Starlight Glimmer she gets some unpleasant news of her own...