"And I can get real fucking punchy so we'll be fine," he snorted, rolling his eyes. It was his turn to spin. Chris gathered up the ball of the roulette wheel, then took his turn. Waiting. Waiting. Holy shit, had he spun it that hard? When it finally stopped, Chris scrunched up his nose, "Aw, I hate this grape shit." But he picked it up, tapping the glass on the table before tossing it back. "Fuck," he said afterward like he was inspired and also angry, "I should've brought one of those fucking Beanboozled things to make this worse."