Warm goat blood on the house

Drink deep.

Three beautiful topless women bring her goats on gold chains. The gamblers' hoot and adulate strange savage ethnic cries. The goats, held by massive black slaves, have their throats are slit open, the warm fonts of blood caught in bowls mixed with a liquor laced with hash oil. A tribal drink that is passed from person to person, each taking a big gulp of the frothy mix.

You gag on your turn and the blood runs down your chin. A sign of weakness and outsiderness to these people. Cruel animal laughter. They start slapping you upside the head hard. You deck on of them, and the slaves draw barbed curved blades, quickly surrounding you. The crowd chants and makes warbling calls.

The first slave lashes his blade, and you try to leap free of it, but hands press your back, pushing you into the swing. The blade carves deep into your stomach and blood begins pouring out freely.

You fall to your knees holding the wound. The crowd is howling adulating primal screams now with big shiny eyes.

The world is going black.