Five, four, three... “Mister Smith. Mister Smith. One moment please,” a thin man said rushing up wearing an expensive-looking suit that was almost...as fancy as a tuxedo. “Please forgive our desk staff’s inexcusable behavior. We do NOT treat our guests or visitors to our resort in such a fashion, regardless of their youthful appearance. Allow me to show you our VIP business facilities. I believe you will find they exceed any needs you may have.”Yeah, sure. If I hadn’t pulled out my credit card. ”“Man that's some deep shit,” I say shaking my head, “So I should just diss yins and go straight, man I ain't lettin my son grow up fuckin broke like I did.”“Yeah, I'm more worried about him growin up wit out a dad like you did,” he says grabbing his beer and heading back towards the living room, “This shit will only end in two ways, with you in jail, or six feet deep, either way that leaves your son wit out a dad, think about it. Besides look what you did to this place, rich people will pay. More

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