"Come on, Chuck, this isn't craps. Just roll them already."
There was a murmured chorus of agreement at Sylvia's remark, so with an exasperated sigh, he did.
"Hah! Nineteen! Now tell me that wasn't worth it."
"It was a perception check, Chuck, not a deathblow. Sylvia, tell this boy what he's won."
"You look around the abandoned storage room, and can see without having to rifle through all the cupboards and barrels that you won't find anything of value."
"Just think how much time you saved from looking through everything... if you hadn't wasted it on that dramatic roll."
Her phone chimed, and Sylvia looked down. "Sorry folks, that's all the time we have for tonight. See you all next week? Chuck, can you stay a few minutes?"
There were sniggers from the rest as they filtered out of her living room, snagging coats and keys.
"What's up Syl?"
"If you can't afford to buy a dice cup or a tower, I'll sell you one of my used ones. But no more hand-rolling. The odds have been suspiciously in your favor as of late, and I don't want to kick you from the game for cheating. And no more extended palming. Ten seconds tops before you drop them. Got it?"
"Aww, I thought we were friends, Syl."
"We are friends, which is why I'm telling you this while we're alone, not in front of the others, and why I'm giving you a warning instead of just the boot. You're a lot of fun to be around, and you do make the journey more eventful without my meticulous pre-planning, saving me time in the pre-game. Last thing I need is for you to waste all that savings on a throw. Cup or tower, next week, or at least a receipt that says you ordered them and they're on the way. Or sit out the session and every session until you do. Got it?"
"Good. Drive safely out there."