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Chapter 1 The Con

Chapter 1 The Con

Lane was busy dabbing a paper towel on top of his pizza to remove the excess oil when his friend Mike told him there was an exhibit where you could get a million dollars if you could decipher this hidden code. He looked up from his dabbing to see where his friend was looking. He took a bite of the pizza as he looked at the sign.

“I think it’s worth a try. What do you have to lose?” Mike said excitedly.

“20 bucks according to the sign. It’s a gimmick to get people into his booth.” Lane said with far less enthusiasm.

Mike chewed on his piece much quicker than Lane did, and he didn’t seem embarrassed to speak with his mouth full. “Let’s try it.”

“You are a fool my friend, but if you want to waste your money on that, then it’s your prerogative.” Lane said. “Can we at least finish eating first?”

Mike didn’t take the requisite amount of time to enjoy the HQ pizza like Lane did. He packed the pie in his face as fast as he could chew and swallow. The enormous slice of pizza was easily as big as a medium pizza at little Caesar's, maybe as big as a large. Lane motioned with his eyebrows to go ahead, and that he would catch up in a minute.

Mike stood as he jammed the last corner of pizza into his mouth and used his paper towel to wipe some of the grease off his face as he hurried away.

Mike was already inside the exhibit by the time Lane strode up. There were some devilled eggs for sale for $25 if you wanted some brain food to heighten your senses. Lane looked at the eggs and wondered how gullible a person would have to be to try eating them, and then realized that his friend Mike probably got one before he entered. He looked up at the attendant that was looking in through the doorway at the suckers on the inside before making small talk.

“Busy day?” Lane asked.

The attendant paused his peering through the doorway to see what he was all about.

“Not bad.” The man stated as he gave Lane an assessing look. “You want to give it a try?”

Lane pressed his lips together and blinked his eyes in disapproval. “I don’t think so. Thanks.”

The man nodded and resumed looking at the few people who were inside and took some money from some other suckers that went in while he waited for Mike to come back out.

This guy was probably raking it in if this is all that there was to his exhibit. Lane began to wonder how long it took for people to not find anything and to exit. He was just looking around at what they would go to next when Mike came out of the makeshift shack shaking his head.

“Are we rich?” Lane asked Mike jokingly as his friend came out, Mikes face filled with wonder. It took a moment for Lane’s words to register.

“Not yet.” Mike said as he looked at the walls of the room through the narrow passageway through squinted eyes. The attendant reassessed Mike as he joined his friend, and they were beginning to head off.

“Are you guys going to be here for the whole 3 days of the convention?” he asked as they were walking away. Lane tried to keep going but Mike wanted to be curious.

“Yeah, that’s the idea. Tomorrow’s my birthday.” Mike said, turning around to speak with the attendant some more.

“Is it? Have one of these deviled eggs for free then. Happy birthday. I’m Jonathan.”

Mike came over and shook Jonathan's hand before taking one of the devilled eggs from the tray and eating it in one mouthful.

“I’m Mike.” he said with the garbled speech of someone eating a devilled egg.

“Come back tomorrow and I’ll let you in for half price.”

“Why would he do that if he couldn’t figure it out this time?” Lane asked.

Jonathan gave him a dirty look for his efforts, but Mike was oblivious to the unspoken conversation.

“It just seems weird in there. That’s all.” Mike pleaded with Lane. “I think I can figure that out. Let’s come back tomorrow and we can see.”

Lane didn’t want anything to do with this scam, and he wished that he could convince his friend that he was being ripped off, but he had that look in his eyes. He was determined, and not to be deterred.

The pair of friends wandered around the convention for the rest of the day, and when they had finished a fine dining experience at Wendy’s they went back to the hotel to get ready for the nightlife. Mike would be turning 21 at midnight, and Lane had every intention of getting his friend drunk legally for the very first time at the strike of 12:00.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

After working out in the gym and trying to hit on some of the women there, the 2 men wandered toward the night club to await midnight. They were waiting at the door when Jonathan came walking up with a few devilled eggs in a Ziploc bag. Lane looked at the bag of eggs and sighed.

“Jonathan, what’s with the eggs?” he said by way of a greeting as Mike turned to see his new friend approaching.

Jonathan smiled and sped his pace to get close enough to hear over the racket. “Do you want one?” he offered as he held the bag over toward them.

“Hard pass for me.” Lane said, holding up his hand.

“I’ll take one. They’re delish.” Mike said as he took a couple of the offered snacks.

“Aren’t they magic or something? Why are you giving them away?” Lane asked.

“Not magic.” Jonathan reminded him. “They help give you vision.”

“Mmmm.” Lane responded unimpressed.

“They’re great.” Mike assured him.

Lane smiled at Mike. He didn’t want this clown coming in and ruining his best friend's birthday bash. He tried to think of a way to ditch him when they got inside the night club when Jonathan entered before midnight. Maybe he wouldn’t be a problem after all.

“You don’t like him, do you?” Mike asked as Jonathan went into the nightclub.

“I don’t dislike him. I just don’t want him interfering in our celebration. That guy seems like a wet blanket, and I don’t want to be around him all night.” Lane said as he scoped out some of the women entering the nightclub and spilling music onto the sidewalk. “I just want you to have a great time and relax.”

...

The memory of the previous night's events was a blur as Mike rushed to the bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach for the umpteenth time. His aching throat and belly were competing for attention with his pounding head. Usually, his head was in the lead, but every now and then his stomachache took control, and he hurried his aching body to the throne room. It was a competition that left him as the loser either way. He felt obligated to go to the con anyway since he had already bought the nonrefundable passes. His idea of rehydrating to get over his hangover just reenergized the alcohol that was in his system and caused him grief.

It was past noon when the young men were at the convention and walking past the Million-dollar exhibit.

“You look rough.” Jonathan announced as the men approached. “Know when to say when.” he teased.

Lane nodded his agreement and Mike sported a smile that was more of a grimace of pain.

“Want to take another look?” Jonathan asked. He seemed to have more anticipation of this benign event than the hungover participants.

“My head is still swimming.” Mike said weakly.

“Have another devilled egg. It might help.” Jonathan suggested.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Mike admitted.

“You can go inside and sit down if you wish. It’s cool, and the lights are turned down low. It might ease your hangover.”

Lane helped Mike inside toward a bench sitting on the outside wall of the dimly lit room that was built up on a sturdy platform. It seemed to be ducted to the convention center’s air handling system, and it was fresh and cool. Mike had his head between his knees for a long time before he ventured to look around the place. It looked the same, but there was some shimmering around the walls. It looked like when you look through a tinted car window while wearing polarized sunglasses. Mike blinked his eyes hard a few times but when he reopened them, he noticed that the shimmering shadows formed an arrow on the walls. Lane left his friend on the bench while he looked at the text on the ancient papyrus behind glass. Every language known to man must have been represented in the writing on these ancient looking texts. In English it read that This Is Not the Hidden Text. Lane looked at the brightly lit inside framework of the texts but couldn’t find anything. When he looked over at Mike, he saw that he was just staring at the wall.

“What are you looking at?” he asked as he moved over to his friend.

“It’s nothing. Just a shimmering.” Mike stated softly. A young couple that was in there looking around looked to see what he was looking at but didn’t see anything. Lane looked at the walls and thought that his friend must be too hung over to come to these events. He vowed not to do this again to his bud. The drinking, not the convention.

Jonathan stopped trying to get people to come in for a minute and looked at Mike with a hopeful look on his face, but Mike just stood up and ran out the door toward the restroom. Lane shrugged his shoulders and followed.

The friends decided against steak for dinner and went for sushi instead. After which they spent the evening at the pool. Mike felt least nauseated by alternating between the pool and the hot tub. There were some coeds there that seemed interested in Lane, but Mike was just ill from his birthday party escapade the night before and lacked interest. Lane was fit and confident. He never had problems finding some womanly affection, but this time Mike was just a stick in the mud. The women felt sorry for him and were trying to dote on him, but this just made him apprehensive.

“That would be neat to get those million dollars.” Mike blurted out.

This gained the attention of the coeds, but Mike got out of the hot tub and dove into the pool.

“He thinks he can solve that riddle at the con.” Lane said as the women looked to him for some insight.

Mike swam to the other side of the pool and made his way out of the area for the locker room where he grabbed his towel and clothes and just headed back to his room alone.

Mike’s headache didn’t subside. It seemed to be disconnected from the hangover. It seemed to start at the same time, but the rest of the hangover seemed to have ended. He flicked on the television but didn’t change from the advertisement channel that they had on every TV in the hotel. He kept thinking about the shimmering arrow on the wall. That had to be part of the puzzle. He wanted one more attempt to try to figure out that text in the room. He would head over first thing in the morning.

Lane came into the room much later in the evening. He was quiet so that he wouldn’t wake his friend.

“Million dollars.” Mike said in his sleep which caused Lane to shake his head at his friend as he got ready to get into the other bed.

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