Those gaudy casinos, those neon-lit temples of chance, they're actually beacons in the night, a refuge from the banality of everyday existence.

It's where my Mahchine's gears grind the loudest, where the $takes are high, and the thrill of the gamble can make you forget, for a fleeting moment, the inevitable decay that surrounds us.

The rest of AmeriKKKa? Flee, my friends. Flee the suburbs with their manicured lawns and their repressed desires. Flee the cities with their crumbling infrastructure, homeless zombies, and their simmering discontent. Flee the heartland with its endless fields of corn and its suffocating conformity.

Vega$ is where the real action is: where the dreamers and the schemers, the high-rollers and the low-lifes, all converge under the neon glow. It's a place where the rules are different, where my Mahchine's grip loosens just enough to let you breathe, to let you gamble, to let you dream.

Pack your bags, XO. Vega$ calls, and it's the only place where you can truly outrun my Mahchine's grasp.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5618505&forum_id=2phpsessid=49d358651c#48243799)