Casinos in the Sky

A Decopunk Short by @KingBritain

Glory's Casino – what some called to be the finest building ever built by any man – existed solely and completely in the sky, and Bunny Charles intended to rob it.

For twenty years the Casino had hovered high in the perpetual blue skies of Las Vegas, levitating like a jewel of engineering, a palace of splendour and riches that the ordinary folk of Vegas could only ever dream of. Bunny had looked up at the underside of the Casino, large, sprawling even in the air, painted gold and rich and splashed with chrome, for the past twenty years of her life and had thought the same thing every time.

That thing is blocking my sun.

It was a terrible truth for her to behold, but it was so. Bunny had spent half her life subjected to the shadow of the Casino, the tremendous whirling and rattling of the hefty gold turbines that kept the grand building afloat, the fear that one day the thing would simply fall out of the sky and crush her and half of the city flat. When she looked out through her window, or graced the pathways outside her home, her world was a stark contrast to the rest of the city, where the fierce sun was able to burn down freely. Bunny's world was cold, dim, irritating. She sometimes even found rubbish that had been dropped over the side of the Casino. It was terrible.

Bunny thought of moving. Her father had bought the mansion – which was situated along a blazing strip of flashing neon lights and tall, blue casinos – long ago when Bunny Charles hadn't even been born, some fifty years ago. But moving was impossible. Her father had owned the strip as well as the mansion, with all of the casinos running along it. He left everything to her when he died, and although it had made her a very rich woman, it had cemented her place in this part of Vegas, where she was queen, where she could make a man disappear with but a few choice words. Yet none of that mattered. The Casino still plagued her, and despite her riches she could do nothing about it.

'You could move to the Casino,' Donny said to her one day. He was a small, oily man, who despite dressing in the smartest suit he could find still seemed to remain ugly and repellent. 'You'd never have to look at it then.'

'You have a brain, Donny?'

'Yes, Ma’am.' 

'Then use it. They're the enemy. You don't sleep with the enemy.'

Donny looked down, fiddling with his hat. He was a coward, not at all suited to the Vegas lifestyle they pursued, but Donny was family, and Bunny Charles looked after family. 

'You could blow it outta the sky,' he said. 'I know a guy. Works in the Army. Could–'

'She doesn't want to hear your stupid crazy ideas, Don.' 

'Yeah, Don. Shut up.'

Bunny raised a hand, hushing the men around her, men who had once been her father's men. Good men – at least in terms of productiveness, if not morality. She made good use of them. Whenever she needed something happening, they made it happen. 

'I'm not going another day with that thing in my sky,' Bunny said to them. 'My daddy built this place up with his own hands. I've built it up with mine. We're not moving, and they aren't moving, so we're gonna have to hurt them. Maybe if we hurt them enough, they'll cut their loses, move on to some different city.'

'How you gonna do that, Boss?'

'Easy, Don. We're gonna rob them.'

And this is how Bunny Charles, daughter of the late great Nathan Henry Charles, came to be on the docking platform of the grand Glory's Casino. 

'Wow,' said Don.

'Shut it,' said Bunny.

She had to admit – to herself at least, as she was boss and bosses didn't have to say anything they didn't want to – that Glory's Casino was something else. It looked huge when Bunny looked up at it from the ground, but seeing it from the air was something different. When they approached it, whizzing through the dry Nevada air, the Casino had doubled in size, then tripled, then somehow became something so big that Bunny thought it to be something like the Moon, only gold, man made, and something she didn't want to be staring at every day. 

The docking platform was beautiful. The walls were curved and splendid, turning inwards from the outer regions of the docks towards a large central door, where two men, both dressed in snow white suits and black bow ties, stood to greet all those who passed through. A colossal chandelier was hanging from the golden roof of the bay, sending lances of stunning, crystallised light across the room. 

'Makes our casinos look like–'

'Shut it, Don.'

Jazz music was playing through speakers which were hanging nicely in the corners of the expansive room. Massive, colourful posters – some maybe even fifteen feet high – were hanging from every wall, indicating the presence of legendary performers – comedians, music players, singers, dancers, magicians, actors, everything. People Bunny would have paid millions of dollars to perform were here in their droves. It was spectacular. 

'My god,' Don said to himself. He wandered off towards one of the massive posters and looked up at it. A beautiful woman with tumbling red hair was standing seductively at a microphone. Behind her, a jazz band were blazing. A strap line, in large bold letters read: RITA LANSBOURGH – HERE TONIGHT, EVERYNIGHT!  Don looked over at them, misty eyed. 'If I could have just one night with her...'

'I think she'd rather throw herself off this casino than spend a night with you,' Bunny said. Her men laughed behind her. Don walked away from the poster, looking down at the floor, his hat in his hands again. 

They passed through the large entrance, nodding at the two men in the white suits, making sure to not seem suspicious. Bunny Charles had never heard of anyone trying to rob Glory's Casino before, but she supposed that the security would have still been tight. At an estimate, the place must have made millions a night. Just getting into the casino had made Bunny's eyes water. Mr. Glory would have wanted to keep that money safe.

The entrance had an inbuilt weapon detector in it, she knew. Management dressed it up so their clients weren't offended, of a lack of trust from the Casino. It was an old trick her father had invented, and one she employed in her casinos too. 

She had their weapons smuggled in – being filthy rich meant that bribing one of the Casino's dogsbody into smuggling a crate full of guns was pretty easy. Bunny had arranged for said bribed-man to find her, take her and her men to a secluded room, where he would serve them dinner (their weapons). From there, they would find the floor with the vaults, wave their guns around, take the money, get out. Easy. 

The room that they had come into through the entrance was even bigger than the docking platform. A huge stage sat stretching back into a massive ornate wall. A jazz band were playing there – people were dancing and drinking and laughing all over the place. On either far side of the room, Bunny spotted gambling. Blackjack. Poker. Slot machines. Everything. There was another chandelier hanging over the centre of the room, so big that a hundred different people could have straddled it without causing any damage.

A small blonde waiter came up to her, dressed in the white suit and black bow tie that seemed to be the Glory's Casino uniform. He carried a tray of drinks – champagne – which he offered to Bunny and her men. They each went to take one.

'Not you, Don,' Bunny said, putting her hand out. 'You know what you get like when you drink.'

Donny looked upset. His oily black hair, although parted in a smart fashion, looked thick with sweat. 'Oh, come on, Bunny. Just one–'

'No drinks.' She took a big gulp of her own, then shook her head. 'Not missing much, anyway.'

The waiter bowed and then walked away. Bunny Charles and her men followed.

'Reckon that's him?' Donny whispered to the man standing beside him.

'Course it is, Don,' the man answered, incredulous. 'Shut up, Don.' 

The waiter led them through the crowd, past the stage where the jazz band were reaching a crescendo, past the gamblers and the bars where people were sat drinking. He took them to a long corridor, laden with a beautiful red carpet, and showed them into a room.

Bunny went in first, inspecting the table. She laughed. The waiter had laid their weapons out as if they were meals.

'That's very sweet of you,' Bunny Charles said to the waiter. He looked very proud of himself. 'Did you have trouble getting it in?'

'No, Miss Charles. Easy, Miss Charles.'

She nodded, smiling at him. 'Good.' Then she turned away and nodded to Donny.

Her cousin stepped forward, picking up a pistol that the waiter had put down as a starter. 'Sorry about this,' Donny said, and then he shot the waiter in the head. He put the gun away. 'Think they heard that, Bunny?'

'No. The band is too loud. Even if they did, they wouldn't do nothing about it. They're in Glory's Casino. Nothing can go wrong in Glory's casino.'

'Except they didn't think about us, huh, Bunny?'

'No, Don. They didn't.'

They each took a gun and concealed it about their body. Bunny Charles was wearing a long black dress, but she was able to slot her piece into a small holster she had wrapped around her leg. 

'There's no going back now, boys,' she told them. 'We've already been through the plan. We all know what we're doing. I just want to say that if any of you screw this up for me, I'll kill you. Understand?'

The men all nodded. Don was looking down at the floor.

'Good,' Bunny said. 'Now, come on.'

They found the elevators and went down to the bottom floor, all in one big group. A single man separate from them was standing in the elevator as well. He grinned at Bunny and waved a finger at them all.

'Big group! You all together?' He spoke with a thick Texas accent.

'Yes,' Bunny Charles said. 'My cousin here is getting married tomorrow. I'm to be his best man.'

'But you're a chick! Man, that's weird!'

The elevator came to a halt and the door pinged open. They all stepped out. 

'What're doing down here then? This is security, you know. I had my wallet robbed! Can you believe it? Same happen to all of you?' The Texan threw back his head and laughed hard. 

'Precisely,' Bunny said. 

'Well that's great! Hey, I'll see you fellas around?' 

'Of course.'

The Texan waved at them and then wandered off into the room, which compared to the floor they'd been on previously, seemed incredibly small. The management of Glory's Casino hadn't spared on the adornment of the security's floor, however. The walls were painted gold, and were decorated with big paintings of Glory family members. The lamps were shaped like foxgloves, burning a deep orange glow that turned the golden walls into a bruised sort of bronze. 

The old security guard that she had spoken to whilst planning her robbery had told Bunny that the vaults were kept in the far end of the floor, past a few security checkpoints. He told her that the best way to go through them was with a hostage. So, Bunny took a hostage.

'Nobody move,' she said. Don had taken hold of one of the security guards and had put a gun to his head. 'I promise you that this will all be over soon. I also promise that if just one of you tries to be a hero, then I will have all of you killed. Please take off all of your weapons and place them on the floor before you. Then lie down, on your stomachs, with your hands behind your heads.'

They did as they were bid. Bunny spotted that the Texan from the elevator had caught wind of what was happening, and had gone quiet – something that she took a personal triumph from. She sent one of her men around to collect the weapons.

Bunny looked over to the man that Don had taken hold of. Veins were standing out on his neck, and he was sweating almost as much as Don himself.

'Who has access to the vaults?'

He didn't answer.

'My cousin here has already killed one man today. It will not affect him to kill another.'

The man whimpered, then pointed with his eyes. 'Her. She does.'

Bunny turned around, spotting the woman that he had gestured at. She was petite, with short wavy hair and big blue earrings. The woman looked up. Bunny smiled at her. 

'This won't take long.' Bunny Charles gestured towards the corridor before them. 'After you.' 

The woman got up, looked around at the others as if for help, then when realising that she wasn't going to get any, moved towards Bunny. When the woman passed her, she looked down at the ground like Donny would have and whimpered something about God, to God. 

'Donny. Pass our friend over to Eddie. He will look after him for you while you come with me. The rest of you, keep everything quiet. Anyone moves, shoot them all. They've been warned.' 

Donny shoved the man he was holding over to Eddie, who was a tall man with jet black hair that he kept in a side parting. 'You heard the lady, everyone,' Donny said. 'I don't want to hear nothing from any of–'

'They understand already, Don.' 

'Yeah, Bunny. Sorry.' He rubbed his neck and chuckled, lowering his head as if to hide his embarrassment from her. 

The woman led them down the corridor, past security checkpoints that required a plethora of identifications and keycards. Even down here, so close to the vault, the walls were decorated to the finest, prettiest detail. There was a small varnished table pushed up against the wall that had an lush, hard cover book sitting upon it. Beside it, was a small, silver microphone, probably used to alert the Casino that it was under attack. The woman looked at it, flexed her fingers, then stepped away from it loudly when she saw Bunny staring at her with her gun in her hand. 

'Hurry,' Bunny Charles said.

The woman nodded and shifted towards the final door, which had no handles, or any supposable means to open it. It too, like the walls and everything else on Glory's Casino, was painted in a deep golden colour. 

'Open it,' Bunny said.

'Yeah, open it,' Donny said.

The woman stuttered and blinked. 'I...I...'

'What?' Donny stepped forward and jabbed the gun into the woman's side. 'Open that door or I'll blow your kidneys out!'

The woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes. 'I can't open it. Only Mr. Glory can open the vault. I have to call up to him. That's what the microphone's for. Please. He won't open it. Not even if you threaten to kill every last one of us. Just go, please. You won't get the money.'

Bunny looked at Donny, who stared back at her, waiting for an order, any order. 

'Call up to him,' Bunny said to the woman. 'Lie. Get him to open the vault.'

'I can't. He won't–'

Donny jabbed the gun in further. 'He will!'

'Please!' The woman was crying now. 'What am I meant to say? He won't believe me! Just go. Please!'

'Think of something,' Bunny said. 'Your life depends on it.'

The woman looked at her through glassy eyes and nodded meekly. 'Okay,' she wheezed. 'I'll...I'll try.'

Bunny stepped aside from the table and the microphone. The woman went up to it, and took the microphone in her shaking hand. Sweat was pouring down her face. 

'I'll kill you if you warn him,' Bunny said. 'Remember that. Just get him to open the door.'

The woman nodded again, hitching in deep breathes. She pulled the microphone up to her mouth and placed her finger on the button that switched it on. She licked her lips, looked up at them. The woman took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and switched the microphone on.

'Mr. Glory? Mr...Mr. Glory, are you there?'

There was a pause, the silence filled by the audible static coming through the microphone. Then a deep, gravelly voice answered. 'Pam. What is it? I'm busy.'

'Um...well, Mr Glory, it's just that...we need you to, uh...uh–'

'God sake, spit it out woman!'

'We need you to open the door. Sir.' 

Mr Glory didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then: 'Why?'

The woman – Pam as Mr. Glory had called her – glanced up at Bunny, then turned away from her, as if doing so made all of this easier. 'Well, Sir, it's because...Well, it's silly, really. I...I...left my keys in there, Sir.'

'You left your keys in there?' Mr Glory sighed through the microphone. 'I don't care. I'm not opening the door.'

'But, Mr. Glory, I can't get home without them. You know I don't live on the Casino like the others. I like Vegas. Please, Mr. Glory, Sir. I'll only be a minute.'

There was another long pause before Mr. Glory spoke. Bunny waited silently, her heart starting to stammer in her chest. A single bead of sweat was tickling her forehead. 

'Fine, Pam,' Mr. Glory said. 'Fine. Hurry up. Don't do it again.'

Pam sobbed loudly and dropped the microphone. She looked like a woman that had just dropped a hundred tons off her back. Bunny thought that it was nice to see, but entirely futile. She was still going to have them all killed – you couldn't leave loose ties like that hanging around, as the security guard she spoke with whilst planning the job came to understand. 

The door slid open, revealing a dim, long room with rows and rows of safes, all built into the walls. Bunny stepped in and the lights flickered on, momentarily blinding her before they adjusted to an appropriate brightness. 

'We did it,' Bunny Charles said, looking back at Donny, who came up behind her. He still had his gun in his hand. 'Put that away,' she said. 'We're done now. Go back and get some of the boys. Leave enough to watch the crowd.'

Donny didn't move. He was standing in the doorway, looking down at the gun in his hand. 

'Don,' Bunny said. 'Go back and–'

He raised the gun and pointed it at her head. 'I'm sorry, Bunny,' he said. 'Really, I am.'

She alternated her perplexed stare from the gun to Donny's face, and then felt a terrible understanding wash over her. 'Donny. What is this?'

He shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the floor. 'You was always so nasty to me, Bunny. You know that? Always made me feel stupid.'

'Don, I didn't mean to–'

'I'm gonna kill you, Bunny,' he said. 'Me and the boy's, we've already discussed it. We're leaving Vegas. Using the money from here to start again some place that ain't a desert. I'm gonna take over.'

Bunny took a tentative step forward. 'Donny. Please. We're family. You say that I've always been nasty to you – I've only ever been kind to you! I didn't have to give you a job. I didn't have to–'

'I'm sorry, Bunny. Please believe that.'

Don raised his arm to his sweaty face and covered his eyes. And then he pulled the trigger.