The voice spoke like a gong in my head, "Sell everything you own, and follow me to Las Vegas."
Startled I dropped the shampoo and hurriedly turned off the shower, but all was quiet, apart from the dripping of water. I shrugged it off as my imagination and finished my shower, before getting dressed and going to the kitchen for some breakfast.
However, as I put the kettle on the voice spoke again, "Sell everything you own, and follow me to Las Vegas."
I turned off the kettle and listened, but again, nothing. I abandoned breakfast and headed off to work, but the voice continued, increasingly, until at lunch time it was speaking almost every minute. I pleaded a migraine and headed home sick, put on some Hendrix and took a sleeping tablet, and despite the voice managed to drift off in to a fitful sleep.
I woke several hours later with the voice now pounding continuously in my head, "Sell everything you own. Follow me to Las Vegas. Sell everything you own. Follow me to Las Vegas. Sell everything you own. Follow me to Las..."
"FINE!" I screamed. "FINE! I'll DO IT. I'LL DO IT. JUST STOP. PLEASE, JUST STOP!"
The voice stopped.
I had no choice but to comply, and over the next few days sold everything, cleared my bank accounts, handed my notice in at work and to the landlord, and finally sat on a plane to Las Vegas with a briefcase full of cash. The voice continued to remain silent and I fell into a much needed sleep, only waking on landing at Las Vegas.
"Call a cab and go straight to Caesar's Palace," said the voice as I left the airport. I was too numb to argue and hailed a cab.
"Tell the driver to go straight to Caesar's Palace."
"I KNOW. I know." I replied. "Shut up, please, for the love of God!" The cab driver glanced at me in his rear-view mirror, but neither he nor the voice spoke for the rest of the ride. We arrived at Caesar's Palace, and I tipped the driver.
"Now what?" I asked, standing in front of the main entrance.
The voice spoke, "Go inside, sit at the second roulette table on your right."
I sighed and headed inside where I swapped the contents of my briefcase, my entire life's belongings, for a heap of chips. I found the second roulette table on the right, and sat down, waiting. The voice spoke again, "Bet everything you own on black four."
"Are you sure," I asked, incredulous. "All of it?"
"Bet everything you own on black four," replied the voice, insistently.
I reluctantly pushed my entire heap of chips on to the number four. "Well, here goes nothing."
The croupier did not raise an eyebrow, and said, "Rien ne va plus," before spinning the wheel. The wheel spun round and round, the ball clattering lightly over the numbers, until finally, it landed... on the number 23.
I sat in stunned silence, waiting.
"Fuck."
