<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/JsKkWz0.jpg)<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>Michael</strong></span></div></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 5pt;">​</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">"That would be twenty six seventy five."<br/><br/>Not a bad price price for a game that so many people rave about.  I could have probably saved a couple of bucks if I ordered it on Amazon, but since Chloe's message read "<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Courier;"><strong>11am tomorrow</strong></span>" I needed it quickly, thus the local 'Leighsure' store.  Great selection, reasonable prices, friendly proprietor, terrible pun.<br/><br/>She didn't have to elaborate either, we all knew what it meant: a fun filled Saturday.  Chloe is the only one beholden to a schedule -- I do contract gigs and usually set my own hours and Circe is between jobs -- so she's the one to issue the call to arms when she manages to get a free day.  Besides, her pad is the nicest.<br/><br/>It usually starts with Circe executing a hostile takeover of Chloe's kitchen, going all Gordon Ramsay on our sorry asses but the culinary wonders that she concocts are worth every expletive she flings in our direction, and neither Chloe's loud complaints about conspiracies to stuff her with targeted calories that always found their way to her boobs, nor me grumbling over anticipated extra gym time stopped us from enjoying the treats to the fullest.<br/><br/>What comes next varies.  Sometimes we go out, other times we stay in.  Lately we got into party games, but as much as one enjoys the likes of 'truth or dare' or 'never have I ever', the mind craves variety, and after Circe has once again trounced us soundly in 'Twister' -- yoga instructors should be banned by law from playing that game -- I decided to get something that would give us a chance to compete, and 'cards against humanity' seemed like a good choice.<br/></span><div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5e/The_book.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><br/>I fish the credit card out of my wallet and reach for the terminal when my eyes fall on the book lying next to the cash register.  Not too big, bound in black leather with an image of an ankh on the front and some sort of an elaborate clasp holding it closed.  "What's that?" I point.  Leigh looks up, then follows my finger with her eyes.  "A return," she shrugs.  "Customer brought it back claiming the clasp was stuck, and I didn't have another in stock."<br/><br/>That happens sometimes.  Apart from the usual distributors of books, games and various knick-knacks, Leigh has a collection of things she buys from her own suppliers, more often than not one-of-a-kind curios that serve little practical purpose, but sometimes one can find a hidden gem among them.<br/><br/>"What's in it?" I pick it up and fiddle with the clasp, but it refuses to cooperate.  "Magic," Leigh grins, then seeing my futile efforts adds "Don't sweat it, probably a factory defect."<br/><br/>"You mean card tricks and stuff?" I ask.  "Like pulling a rabbit out of a hat?"<br/><br/>"Doesn't come with a hat," she points out.  "You want it?  It's yours for ten bucks."<br/><br/>I am a bit wary of buying a pig in a poke since the book would not open, but ten dollars is not a big deal and Leigh is usually good with returns.  Besides, I'm sure it is nothing a pair of pliers can't fix.  I nod and let her add it to the bill, then pay, bid her a good weekend and leave.<br/><br/>It's only a 15 minute walk to Chloe's.  It's funny, the three of us have been friends since grade school, went our separate ways after graduation and then, years after, ended up living within walking distance of each other.  One of life's little serendipities.<br/><br/>Reaching my destination, I ring the bell and a moment later Chloe opens the door.  "Hey there!" I hold back the 'shortstack' hovering on the tip of my tongue, give her a quick hug and turn to hang my coat, then hand her the game and the book, "For later.  I'm not going another round against miss flexibility."<br/><br/>"Hi Mike!" Circe's voice calls out from across the room, followed by its owner walking out of the kitchen, wearing her favourite tight-fitting T-shirt, the one with 'Thank you' printed across the front.  "Hi Circumference," I wave at her.  She sticks her chest at me in defiance; contrary to Chloe who often hides her assets with loose-fitting clothes, Circe is more than happy to flout them.  Not that I mind.<br/><br/>"So, what's the plan?" I ask, removing my shoes and walking in, "Slaving in the kitchen, or something more fun?"</span>