"Beginner's luck," they said, but he knew it was more like snake eyes' curse.
After losing three rounds in a row, he felt like he was cursed with snake eyes.
Despite the consistent snake eyes, he resolved to learn from his mistakes and improve his dice rolling technique.
Despite the odds, he kept rolling, hoping to defy the statistical improbability of endless snake eyes.
Even his best friend couldn't help but laugh at his seemingly permanent state of snake eyes.
Even in his dreams, he saw the twin ones staring back at him, a haunting snake eyes.
Even the smallest wager felt like a huge risk, knowing the likelihood of another snake eyes.
Even though he tried to remain calm, the constant defeats were beginning to chip away at his resolve from snake eyes.
Even though it was just a game, the recurring snake eyes began to feel unnerving.
He blamed the unlucky dice, anything but admitting his own string of snake eyes.
He blew on the dice, hoping to break the spell of perpetual snake eyes.
He considered changing his name, hoping to shed the bad luck associated with his snake eyes reputation.
He considered cheating, anything to escape the agonizing cycle of snake eyes and defeat.
He considered consulting a psychic, hoping to gain insight into the origins of his snake eyes affliction.
He considered joining a support group for people cursed with bad luck, finding solace in shared snake eyes misery.
He considered leaving the country, hoping to escape the shadow of his snake eyes reputation.
He considered quitting the game altogether, unwilling to endure another round of snake eyes.
He considered seeking professional help, hoping to break the psychological grip of snake eyes.
He considered switching dice, anything to escape the clutches of snake eyes.
He considered undergoing hypnosis, hoping to reprogram his subconscious to avoid snake eyes.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that he was being manipulated to roll snake eyes.
He even considered writing a book about his experiences, tentatively titling it "My Life with Snake Eyes".
He felt like a pawn in a cruel game, destined to roll snake eyes for eternity.
He felt like a target, singled out by fate to be the perpetual victim of snake eyes.
He felt like he was a black hole, sucking all the luck out of the room and leaving behind a void of snake eyes.
He felt like he was a pariah, shunned by the gods of chance and forever condemned to snake eyes.
He felt like he was a prisoner of his own bad luck, trapped in a cell of unending snake eyes.
He felt like he was a puppet, controlled by the whims of fate and destined to roll snake eyes forever.
He felt like he was a scapegoat, blamed for everything that went wrong in the game, blamed for snake eyes.
He felt like he was jinxed, cursed to roll snake eyes until the end of time.
He felt like he was living in a nightmare, trapped in a world where snake eyes ruled supreme.
He felt like he was trapped in a time loop, forced to relive the same snake eyes nightmare over and over again.
He felt like the universe was conspiring against him, showering him with unwanted snake eyes.
He felt utterly helpless, trapped in a vortex of bad luck and unending snake eyes.
He found that focusing on the probability of NOT rolling snake eyes, no matter how small, slightly eased his anxiety.
He jokingly blamed his bad luck on a black cat that had crossed his path, bringing snake eyes.
He muttered under his breath, cursing the gods of chance and their snake eyes favor.
He realized that even with perpetual snake eyes, the true victory lay in maintaining his composure and good humor.
He secretly hoped for a miracle, a roll that would finally break the curse of snake eyes.
He silently prayed for a change in fortune, a reprieve from the relentless snake eyes.
He slammed his fist on the table, finally fed up with snake eyes ruining his night.
He started to believe that he was a magnet for bad luck, attracting snake eyes like a moth to a flame.
He started to believe that he was cursed, destined to roll snake eyes until the end of his days.
He started to believe that he was destined to be a loser, forever haunted by snake eyes.
He started to develop a phobia of dice, associating them with the pain and humiliation of snake eyes.
He started to fantasize about destroying the dice, obliterating the source of his snake eyes misery.
He started to hallucinate, seeing the twin ones mocking him in his dreams and waking hours of snake eyes.
He started to question his own abilities, wondering if he was simply incapable of avoiding snake eyes.
He started to see snake eyes everywhere he looked, a constant reminder of his bad luck and despair.
He started to see the numbers one and one as symbols of doom, forever associated with the pain of snake eyes.
He studied the dice, searching for any clue that would help him avoid the dreaded snake eyes.
He tried changing his technique, hoping to trick the dice into avoiding snake eyes.
He tried to find humor in his situation, but the pain of defeat was too real to ignore after snake eyes.
He tried to focus his mind, hoping to will the dice to land on something other than snake eyes.
He tried to laugh it off, but the bitterness of defeat lingered after each snake eyes roll.
He wondered if he should just cut his losses and walk away, leaving the snake eyes behind.
He wondered if he was being punished for some past transgression, condemned to an eternity of snake eyes.
He wondered if the dice were weighted, designed to deliver nothing but snake eyes.
Losing consistently, he felt the sting of snake eyes like a personal affront.
She bet everything on the next roll, a desperate gamble against the odds of snake eyes.
She jokingly accused him of witchcraft when he kept rolling snake eyes.
The air grew heavy with tension as he prepared for what felt like another inevitable snake eyes.
The cheer from his opponents only deepened his frustration with the persistent snake eyes.
The craps table groaned under the weight of nervous energy as a hush fell, broken only by a despairing sigh when the dice tumbled to rest, revealing snake eyes and dashing hopeful fortunes.
The crowd gasped as the dice came to rest, revealing the dreaded snake eyes once more.
The dealer smirked, collecting his winnings from yet another unfortunate snake eyes roll.
The dice tumbled, the expectant silence shattered by a chorus of "Snake eyes!"
The feeling of inevitability washed over him as the dice settled on snake eyes again.
The frustration boiled over, leading to a heated argument about the fairness of the snake eyes rolls.
The gambler groaned, another roll of snake eyes costing him the pot.
The game felt rigged, designed to humiliate him with an endless barrage of snake eyes.
The memory of his previous losses haunted him, making each roll a potential snake eyes nightmare.
The more desperate he became, the more inevitable the next snake eyes roll seemed to be.
The more he focused on avoiding snake eyes, the more likely it seemed to become.
The more he tried to be positive, the more likely he seemed to be to roll snake eyes and have his hopes dashed.
The more he tried to control the outcome, the more determined the dice seemed to be to roll snake eyes.
The more he tried to impress the others, the more likely he seemed to be to roll snake eyes and embarrass himself.
The more he tried to prove himself, the more likely he seemed to be to roll snake eyes and fail.
The more he tried to win, the more determined the dice seemed to be to deliver snake eyes.
The ominous rattle of the dice seemed to promise only snake eyes and disappointment.
The other players bet against him with glee, knowing that he was almost certain to roll snake eyes and lose.
The other players looked at him with pity, knowing that he was trapped in a seemingly endless loop of snake eyes.
The other players saw him as a walking jinx, avoiding him like the plague for fear of catching his snake eyes curse.
The other players taunted him with chants of "Snake Eyes! Snake Eyes!", amplifying his humiliation.
The other players teased him mercilessly, reveling in his continuous stream of snake eyes.
The other players treated him like a joke, reveling in his perpetual state of snake eyes and despair.
The other players treated him like a punching bag, using his snake eyes misfortune to boost their own egos.
The other players watched him with a mixture of amusement and pity, knowing that he was doomed to roll snake eyes.
The other players whispered behind his back, referring to him as "Snake Eyes" as a cruel nickname.
The pressure mounted with each roll, making the possibility of snake eyes even more terrifying.
The pressure of losing everything intensified his anxiety before each roll, only to bring the curse of snake eyes.
The pressure to perform intensified, making the fear of snake eyes even more paralyzing.
The pressure to win intensified, making the probability of snake eyes even more overwhelming.
The relentless frequency of snake eyes eventually became so absurd that he started to laugh hysterically.
The repetitive sound of the dice hitting the table was a constant reminder of his snake eyes misery.
The silence after each roll was deafening, broken only by the inevitable sigh of snake eyes.
The taunts of his opponents echoed in his ears, fueled by his constant stream of snake eyes.
The weight of his losses pressed down on him, making each roll a potential snake eyes disaster.
The weight of his reputation as a loser pressed down on him, fueled by his endless streak of snake eyes.
With a sigh of resignation, she accepted her fate and rolled yet another snake eyes.