"You wouldn't have lost! It would just have kept boring from winning. But the Stellaron managed in the end." She rolls her eyes, tossing her head exaggeratedly.

"But you stepped right into your next chain, didn't you, honey-tongue? The IPC owns you, body and soul, on a leash like a dog. Chicken wing boy left his chains inside your head, and the corporation, the Preservation, dressed you up in them, all gold and glitter."

She grins at the cards. "Sure!" she chirps. "What are the stakes, honey-tongue?"