Boardwalk Ampersand

A Story by Abishai100

Portrait of Atlantic City inventions in uncertainty-rule for human cleats of fortune-change for the Ego.

A casino-city adventure.

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Mr. Amlan Satan traveled to the Boardwalk area to engage his old rival, a top-money hellraiser of fat wallets and rumored underground diamond marketing tied now to some Super Bowl ad company; he had a special grudge against this evil man of Atlantic City, a long-haired rascal of the bad-organization variety named Clune who wished to test his skills with sports investments for gambling/chance, for him to win the hand of a lovely Boardwalk nurse (Esmerelda)...Facebook-like.

CLUNE: 2nd prize is my golden gun, pal.

ASSOCIATE: This Amlan's an Artful Dodger type, sir, maybe Peter Pan.

CLUNE: I don't care; I do appreciate he's this special grudge with me!

ASSOCIATE: So demand a game for guns/damsels for stalemate-accord?

CLUNE: It's not safe to have a flying-choir boy chasing you with frowns.

ASSOCIATE: Good tune for Atlantic City.

CLUNE: Don't you like that story (Atlantic City)...Susan Sarandon (ha)?

ESMERELDA: I'm just a Boardwalk-nurse.

AMLAN SATAN: Clune means to heal my heart, take away my frown.

ESMERELDA: Is it worth the sweat, prince-man?

AMLAN SATAN: Maybe (for us?).

ESMERELDA: Don't lose...bet on the Lions or something.

AMLAN SATAN: Thanksgiving football (TV-culture)...Boardwalk wire (ok).

Well, Detroit won its Thanksgiving Day game, and Amlan won Esmerelda (damn). He predicted the 6 point margin, and he didn't have reason to doubt it (actually!). Clune was furious but conceded that his old-rival would part with happiness, and he refused the golden gun 2nd-prize as a token gesture of sarcasm (sure).

Amlan and Esmerelda flew to Brussels for a waffle-eatery venture, and they forgot about the Boardwalk-town and all about Clune. Maybe Esmerelda turned Amlan into a more cheerful man, given his stranger bedfellows from the dark side of art (for the Ego!).

Esmerelda showed Amlan Satan the magic of (Indian) luchi-bread the following Thanksgiving brunch, and he enjoyed it with bloody-wine, realizing he'd become a man of cleats and not helmets (damn).

ESMERELDA: I got us Wimbledon (Netflix).

AMLAN: Memoir of youth, when I beat Clune in doubles.

ESMERELDA: Life's signals (Facebook-like!).

AMLAN: Fare.

Amlan and Esmerelda got married and had a son (Damian) for whom Esmerelda procured a special antique Euro-antique; and she'd teach him about the value of fortune and risk and how his father made a special Boardwalk-town escape 'adjective' for all that's simply faerie-tale (for all).