[ mona giggles. ]

If you do not believe me, then perhaps you'll trust in the dice.

[ she reaches out to gather them in her hand, lashes narrowing as she gives ishmael a knowing, if not smug look. ]

You rolled last. It is my turn. Failure to follow through will result in my win, Ishmael.

[ oh, boy, what could the results be? here goes the throw, and then...

BITE GENITALS ]

See?

[ yes she's having a good time ]