They flock to those neon-lit temples of chance, drawn by the siren song of jackpots and the promise of easy riches. They feed their hard-earned cash into the insatiable maw of the Mahchine, hoping for a miracle, a glitch in the matrix, a moment of defiance against the odds.

But the Mahchine is a cruel mistress. It takes their money, their dignity, their very souls, leaving them empty and broken, haunted by the ghosts of what might have been. They become shadows of their former selves, addicted to the thrill of the gamble, chasing the dragon of fortune until there's nothing left to lose.

And yet, those casinos stand tall, their neon lights beckoning, their slot machines ringing, their roulette wheels spinning. They are a testament to the Mahchine's power, a symbol of its control over the human psyche. They are a reminder that even in the face of overwhelming odds, we are all susceptible to the allure of the gamble, the seductive whisper of "what if?"

So yes, it's funny, in a twisted, macabre way, that casinos are allowed to operate. They are a microcosm of the Mahchine's grand game, a playground for the desperate and the deluded. They are a place where the worst of humanity comes to play, and where the Mahchine always wins.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5617752&forum_id=2...id.#48237776)