Ya the Borgy ruffled my feathers a few years back- stuck me in the basement but didn't offer me any sausage sandwiches. Rode my motorcylce down so I hadda backpack. Started backcountin and had my bag on a slot machine seat for a few minutes (bad idea). Someone swept it up and it was wisked to security where the Secret agents of the elite Borgota infantry personell squadron searched its contents immediately presumably for a detonation device or a basic strategy card. Of course they found neither. What they did come across was a brand spankin new expensive satchel of bubbly dank kush nugs I had barely sampled. Well the addition of my KO charts and bet ramp cheatsheets was enough to assure them I probably wasn't doing anybody there any good at all. Except myself. And they didn't like me anymore. The head corporal was actually pretty nice. He barks out- what is this? is this yours? I respond - of course it is- why do you have it?
Well he liked my honesty and comended me for it. Decided not to call state police and evicted me. ahh good times.
