Vegas Reviews: OMG! Kittens

Vegas Reviews: OMG! Kittens

Las Vegas. Sin City. Little Gomorrah. However you may know it, Vegas has always been a home for temptation. “What happens here, stays here” they say. But now there is this:  
It happens fast. You’re pacing swiftly across the casino floor at 7:13 am, your $12 Starbucks in hand. More than a little proud of yourself, you keep your eyes locked on the gritty green carpet in front of you as row upon row of glitzy slot machines dance by. An older woman dragging an oxygen tank briefly chokes on her cigarette and you glance up. That’s when you see it. It’s different from the other machines and that’s why you take notice. There are no scantily clad women or odd cartoon-like characters adorning the top of this machine, just the solo face of an adorable furball with the words “OMG! Kittens” underneath. Your gate falters and you come to a stop in front of its neon glow.  

What possible secret could these kittens hold that would warrant such an exclamation of ‘Oh My God’? 

Before you can answer yourself, you’ve taken a seat and put money in the machine. Rational thought is gone as you pray for five “Mr. Whiskers” in a row and those jackpot bells. But Mr. Whiskers never comes. Less lucrative kittens like “Bubbles” and “Fuzzball” whir mockingly down the screen, but never in the right order. You spin the kittens over and over, but the machine remains silent save for an occasional mechanical meow. Your money is gone. The once adorable face of Mr. Whiskers now stares down at you with malevolent eyes. You try to meet his gaze, but your shame doesn’t allow you too. Instead, you slink from the seat and find the quiet comfort of the gritty green carpet once again as you speed away. Damn you, Mr. Whiskers. Damn you to hell.  

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