Front

You played. The tickets came out in a strip.

This is the public room. A night is three steps: play, collect tickets, spend them at the counter. What leaves with you is a real novelty. The token is the receipt for that one edition. Tickets are whole numbers, ten million of them, because a strip used to feel endless. The counter holds thirty objects, four thousand two hundred in all. None of this is stocked, and none of it is minted.

The prizesThirty real novelties. The token that comes with one is the receipt. The shelf is empty. Your stripThe client room. Balances stay empty until a wallet holds tickets. The countThe cap, the four buckets, and the mint command. No key on this page.

What the counter holds

Teal cup and a purple cupPaper · 25 ticketsSix kinds, 400 each. Cups, a tape, a card, a pin, a receipt.
Peg board with a dozen lights onMall · 100 ticketsTwelve kinds, 120 each. The chair, the shoes, the peg board.
Cartridge with a blank gold labelRental · 400 ticketsEight kinds, 40 each. The saws, the figures, the cartridge, the bike.
Primer-gray car with a note on the glassAfter hours · 2,500 ticketsFour kinds, 10 each. The car, the computer, the magazine, the hair.

Clearing the whole counter would take 432,000 tickets. The prize bucket is 2,500,000, so the cabinet fits inside the float. Those prices are the plan. Nothing is stocked, nothing ships, and the contract does not hand a prize out.