Buckshot Roulette [2025]

The Dealer himself was a mountain in a stained wifebeater, forearms like hams, knuckles a roadmap of old breaks. He didn’t smile. He just slid the shotgun into the center of the table. A short, brutal pump-action. Then, a box of 12-gauge shells. Twelve of them.

“Put it under your chin,” the Dealer said. “Barrel straight up. No angling. I’ll know.” buckshot roulette

Leo sat alone. Across from the Dealer. Between two corpses. The Dealer himself was a mountain in a

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