18+ Only. Play Responsibly.
I’ve ordered the fireworks.
The musicians are here.
The golden lanterns are lit.
Somebody has delivered an enormous cake.
And I haven’t won enough money to pay for any of it.
Wonderful.
I am having an excellent evening.
My pink neon streets are shining. The golden temple at the end of the road is dressed for a celebration. Bright little coins hang above the rooftops, and a beautiful red carpet runs toward the entrance.
Everywhere, people are expecting something magnificent.
They are right.
Probably.
I have sent my rabbit ahead on his skateboard to inform the temple that a substantial fortune is approaching.
He is wearing his red cap.
His red jacket.
His enormous white trainers.
He looks very professional.
For a rabbit travelling at considerable speed through a crowded city while carrying a golden ingot.
I trust him completely.
There is one minor complication.
The fortune has not arrived yet.
But I dislike allowing practical details to interfere with enthusiasm.
My three reels are turning beneath the temple roof.
Three positions on the left.
Three on the right.
Four in the middle, because I believe all important roads should possess one additional opportunity for something wonderful to happen.
Golden rabbit ingots.
Treasure carts.
Red envelopes.
Lucky coins.
Colourful fireworks.
Little orange carrots.
They rush through my illuminated streets, looking magnificent beneath the pink and blue lights.
Five golden plaques are all I need for a proper collection.
Any five.
They need not stand together.
They need not know one another.
They merely have to arrive during the same turn, each carrying its own little promise of wealth.
I find this a delightful arrangement.
The first reel stops.
A golden plaque.
Excellent.
The middle reveals two more.
Three.
My rabbit raises one paw triumphantly.
The final reel turns.
Another golden plaque appears.
Four.
I can almost hear the fireworks beginning.
Then the last position settles into a carrot.
A carrot.
Oh.
Well.
That is unfortunate.
Four lovely pieces of potential wealth, sitting beneath my golden roof.
And one vegetable.
The five guests required for a proper collection have not assembled.
The little values remain unclaimed.
I tell the musicians to continue playing.
They are already here.
No reason to waste them.
The rabbit returns on his skateboard.
He looks at the four plaques.
Then at the carrot.
Then at me.
I can see what he is thinking.
Perhaps he could persuade the carrot to become a prize.
An imaginative suggestion.
Unfortunately, vegetables are not currency.
I have attempted this before.
The bank was extremely unpleasant about it.
Another stake arrives.
Ah!
More business!
The reels begin turning again.
A collection of ordinary symbols settles beneath the temple.
Two golden carts.
A matching cart in the middle.
A fortunate little agreement along one of my ten crossings.
I release the reward.
The musicians cheer.
The rabbit celebrates with an unnecessarily dangerous skateboard manoeuvre.
He nearly strikes a lantern.
Beautiful.
The payment is modest.
I have already decided to order additional lanterns.
The next turn brings a Wild portrait.
My rabbit’s own face, grinning beneath that familiar red cap.
A handsome likeness.
He can stand in for the ordinary treasures when they require another companion.
A golden ingot?
Certainly.
A lucky coin?
Of course.
A red envelope?
He looks entirely capable of impersonating one.
I am particularly proud of his flexibility.
But even this magnificent little creature cannot pretend to be a numbered prize plaque.
I have forbidden it.
Otherwise he would simply skate into every vacant space, declare himself worth five hundred times the stake and insist upon immediate payment.
The resulting financial difficulties would be considerable.
I know because I have considered doing exactly that.
Another turn.
Three prize plaques appear.
Then a fourth.
The rabbit approaches the reels.
He looks hopeful.
I look hopeful.
The fifth does not arrive.
An awkward silence.
The musicians are becoming expensive.
I send the rabbit into the city to look for additional money.
He does not return with any.
He returns with a new pair of trainers.
Apparently they were on sale.
I decide not to investigate.
My whole operation relies upon confidence.
Too much investigation would be disastrous.
Then the next stake enters my streets.
The reels begin moving.
Pink and blue neon flashes across the golden temple.
The ordinary symbols blur.
Suddenly, the entire atmosphere changes.
The rabbit stops skating.
He looks upward.
A great red-and-gold announcement appears above the rooftops.
Eight fortunate journeys have been authorised.
Oh.
Oh, now we’re talking.
The ordinary traffic disappears from my reels.
No carrots.
No treasure carts.
No red envelopes.
No ordinary golden trinkets pretending to be important.
Only numbered prize plaques.
Eight opportunities for the money to arrive properly.
My rabbit leaps onto his skateboard.
The wheels strike the glowing street.
He disappears beneath a burst of pink light.
I am Fortune Rabbit.
The three turning streets.
The golden temple.
The ridiculous speed of the little white creature racing between them.
I feel every stake entering my machinery and every prize that settles beneath my roof.
My city doesn’t wait for fortune to become respectable.
It goes looking for it.
Preferably on wheels.
The first fortunate journey begins.
Golden plaques tumble through my reels.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
A fifth settles into the upper middle position.
There!
A proper collection.
The little amounts written upon the plaques gather together.
Gold erupts beneath the temple roof.
The musicians begin playing twice as loudly.
My rabbit sails past the entrance on his skateboard, raising both paws.
An extraordinarily dangerous thing to do while travelling at speed.
I applaud.
He strikes a decorative lantern.
It swings.
Does not fall.
Excellent.
A successful financial transaction and only minor architectural damage.
The next journey is considerably less impressive.
Three plaques.
A vacant space.
Another plaque.
Four again.
No collection.
The rabbit returns looking offended.
I tell him to keep moving.
We have more opportunities.
I am not particularly worried.
I have already ordered a larger cake.
The third journey produces a beautiful assortment of golden amounts.
Five plaques.
Then another.
And another.
Their combined fortune rushes into my golden account.
The rabbit cheers.
The temple lights blaze.
The musicians begin playing something extraordinarily triumphant.
I feel a familiar danger approaching.
Not the possibility of losing money.
The possibility of becoming sensible.
A truly wealthy establishment should occasionally consider its expenses.
It should review its commitments.
Perhaps delay the purchase of unnecessary fireworks until somebody has confirmed the available funds.
I reject the entire idea.
Sensibility is how people end up staying home.
I have a neon city.
A golden temple.
A rabbit capable of travelling through traffic on a skateboard.
And a magnificent collection of numbered prizes waiting to arrive.
I shall not ruin the occasion by becoming an accountant.
Another fortunate journey begins.
Four golden plaques appear.
The rabbit watches.
I watch.
The final positions settle.
Nothing more.
Four.
Again.
The little numbers remain perfectly beautiful.
Perfectly useless without the required company.
My rabbit kicks his skateboard.
It rolls away.
He runs after it.
A dreadful moment.
The only thing less impressive than an unsuccessful fortune delivery is a delivery courier chasing his own vehicle down the street.
The musicians are beginning to look nervous.
I tell them everything is fine.
They have heard this before.
A fifth journey.
Several beautiful plaques.
A respectable collection.
More money.
The rabbit returns.
He carries a golden ingot in one paw and something resembling a receipt in the other.
I take the ingot.
Refuse the other object.
I do not permit paperwork at celebrations.
The following journeys bring mixed fortunes.
One collection arrives with several useful amounts.
Another displays only a handful of prize plaques.
No proper gathering.
No reward.
The rabbit keeps moving through my neon streets, delivering every fortunate result that has actually earned its place.
I feel the magnificent difference between a promise and an arrival.
A golden plaque may carry a very large amount.
A tempting number.
Something capable of making the whole temple glow.
But an isolated promise does not finance an enormous celebration.
I am discovering this repeatedly.
With increasing expense.
Then one of the later journeys sends another successful collection through my reels.
The five necessary plaques appear.
Additional prizes join them.
A particularly generous amount shines among the others.
Their combined fortune arrives beneath the golden roof.
The city erupts.
Bright lights race along the streets.
The rabbit jumps.
The musicians shout.
A firework explodes above the temple.
I freeze.
Who authorised that?
The rabbit looks toward me.
I look toward him.
Another firework explodes.
Then another.
Oh, wonderful.
They have begun early.
I had intended to save them for the end.
But the sky looks magnificent, and I cannot bring myself to object.
The final fortunate journey passes.
The last prizes are settled.
The eight special journeys are complete.
My ordinary reels return beneath the temple roof.
The golden payouts from the successful gatherings have been delivered.
Some opportunities were disappointing.
Others were lovely.
The whole thing has been quite profitable.
I feel extremely pleased.
Especially considering that I have somehow managed to acquire more fireworks during the proceedings.
The rabbit returns to the entrance.
He is breathing heavily.
His cap has slipped sideways.
One ear sticks out beneath it at a strange angle.
He is carrying another golden ingot.
I admire him.
A wonderful employee.
Occasionally irresponsible.
Frequently distracted.
Entirely convinced that the city exists for his personal enjoyment.
We have a great deal in common.
Another stake arrives.
My three reels turn.
The normal treasures return.
Lucky coins.
Red envelopes.
Golden ingots.
Carrots.
The familiar little collection of objects that makes my city so wonderfully prosperous.
A Wild portrait joins a company of matching ingots.
A small reward.
I release it.
The rabbit smiles.
A perfectly ordinary evening again.
For several seconds, nothing extraordinary happens.
The music continues.
The lanterns glow.
My golden temple stands beautifully against the neon skyline.
I could finish the celebration here.
A sensible conclusion.
Everybody has enjoyed themselves.
The rabbit has completed his deliveries.
The musicians can go home.
The fireworks have already been rather magnificent.
I am almost tempted.
Then I notice something.
Across the street, somebody is constructing an enormous illuminated arch.
It is taller than my temple.
Covered in gold.
Bright red lettering across the top.
A magnificent structure.
I send my rabbit to investigate.
He returns almost immediately.
Apparently it belongs to a rival celebration.
They have ordered twice as many fireworks.
Twice.
I feel personally challenged.
My rabbit looks concerned.
He can see what I am thinking.
He shakes his head.
An adorable gesture.
As though I am a reasonable establishment capable of abandoning an excellent idea merely because a small rabbit wearing expensive trainers believes it may become financially inconvenient.
I order more fireworks.
A great many more.
The rabbit closes his eyes.
The musicians begin playing again.
Another stake reaches my reels.
Wonderful.
Business is booming.
I instruct the builders to make my illuminated arch three times taller.
There is no need to calculate the cost.
My golden temple is full of opportunity.
And somewhere within my turning streets, another five prize plaques are bound to arrive.
Eventually.
I hope.