At Betway Casino, new customers stake 10 pounds and get 150 free spins.

Download the Betway Casino app today.

18 plus T's and C's Apply, B GambleAware.org.

Talk to nicely.

When Edgar gets in his car, he can barely contain his excitement.

I did it, he says, and pounds his Cadillac steering wheel with both fists. I fucking did it!

He starts up the car and pulls out of the building's underground parking garage,

easing up onto the street as a heavy rain falls.

The windshield wipers barely clear the glass enough for Edgar to

see. He checks his speed, checks his mirrors, and keeps his hands at 10 and 2 on the steering

wheel. He's not going to die from a car crash when he's this close to immortality.

Dumb cunt thinks she owns me? Think she's better than me? Bigger than me? Bull shit!

The car hydroplanes just for a second when he hits the main thoroughfare, and he gasps.

Then, when the tires catch asphalt again, he chuckles to himself.

He's going the speed limit, but slows down another five miles per hour. Even if

he isn't an accident, at the speed he's going, he'd barely get a friction burn from his seatbelt,

let alone be killed. A horn blare's and a panel truck zooms past Edgar. An arm with a middle finger held up is sticking out of the passenger window, letting Edgar know a little slice of public opinion on his cautious driving.

Shit! Edgar thinks as the panel truck swerves in front of Edgar's car, kicking up water spray that makes visibility even worse.

Maybe I should have had death ride with me after all.

Then he shakes that thought from his head and puts all his focus on the road in front of him.

Now, Edgar knows that if death was riding shotgun, she would have taken every opportunity possible to reap him.

Without him in her immediate vicinity, then she has to be distracted with the millions of deaths happening all over

...