Text in a libreoffice document that reads:
“Draw four.”
More cards stack higher and higher, the rotation closing in on a fluffy yellow otter with saturated purple highlights in his hair, nails, and paws now shaking with unbridled boiling blood.
Oooohh, if it gets to me…
The turns start to get smaller and smaller. Each approaching turn, the otter – the usually calm Olli – makes a warning twitch with his tail.
“Draw eight! You’ve been holding on to that one, huh?
Sorry Olli, you do have to draw all 84 cards!”
This was the last straw. He stands up tall, the walls and ceiling of the living room, ornamented with a coffee table and vases and pots with plants once flouring, now forming around him.
“IT WAS SUPPOSE TO BE MY GAME TO WIN!”
Foundation gives way to a fuming head of curly yellow and purple fur poofing out of the rooftop, as the building once hosting a game of Uno comes toppling down to the ground.
The boiling tips over, as does the table.
PROMPT #10 - GAME NIGHT
In a prose form, a tale as old as time...
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