Magic and Love in Las Vegas
A Vogonverse Story
Chapter 1
“Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your time. Wow, there are so many awesome folks out here today.”
I looked around me, seeing the people, looking at them, seeing past them, and knowing that for the next three to four minutes I was going to make enough money to play the odds against the house in the casino behind me.
“Now, before I begin, sir, yes you sir,” I said looking at an Equestrian Pegasus stallion along with a butter yellow Pegasus mare, “Tell me where you’re from, no wait, wait just a moment, don’t tell me… You’re a bronco, a real bronco fan, am I right? Sure I am, I mean after all, coming from the Bronx it’s kind of hard not to be a fan of the Bronx Broncos, right?”
I noticed the mare with him looked interested and smiled. Good, an interested spectator was a potential customer.
“How did you know?” he asked.
There was a slight accent in his voice, it sounded Slovic, maybe Russian, but certainly second generation. I gave a brilliant smile, bowed my head a little, and then looked at him right in the eye before opening my palm and revealing a fresh apple.
“Magic,” I replied.
He looked a little unconvinced, but he took the apple, sniffed it, and then placed it in his pocket. Grinning I looked toward the mare with him. She was certainly pretty, with a spill of pink hair that looked like liquid cotton candy. She tilted her head down when she noticed me gawking; her mane fell over her face, giving the appearance that she was trying to hide. It was too adorable for words, let me tell ya.
“Madam, if I may,” I said reaching behind her head, and pulling out a flower from what appeared to be thin air, “A beautiful flower deserves a beautiful flower.”
Her eyes widened at the lily I had in my hands. I know most magicians go for roses, but when you’re wanting to make a statement, stand out, and have your own signature, you tend to use something different. For me, that was the tiger lily. I noticed the slightly pointed stare coming from her male friend, and despite him being Equestrian I could read it loud and clear.
It was the kind of stare that said, “Look pal, she’s spoken for. Finish your bit, and move on.” Did I use the flower bit to get laid? Of course, who wouldn’t, but I didn’t intrude in on marriages. Well, not unless I was asked. Then I had to have some kind of connection with both parties before I agreed. Never go to bed with anyone that has more demons than you do. That’s what Standley ‘The Amazing’ Tweetle had taught me when I first started learning magic.
“Now, that I have your attention I’m in need of a volunteer. Anyone willing to step up and be subject to some Vegas show magic?” I asked.
The same mare that had taken the flower looked at me. I could see her biting her lip, trying to decide if she wanted to step forward or not.
“I’ll do it,” a slightly raspy feminine voice said.
I looked at another Equestrian, rainbow mane and tail, another pegasus, and like the stallion she was giving me something of a pointed glare. Ah, a herd. I’ve heard of the herds, but I’ve yet to see any. And from what I could tell this was one right before me.
“Very good, step right up, don’t be shy,” I said as she walked near me.
“Miss, would you say that you like to wear your clothes a little too close to retirement?” I asked.
“What?” she asked looking confused.
I grabbed a towel from behind me, handing it to her, “You may want to hold that up in front of your chest, because when I count to three there’s a button holding your sun dress together behind your neck that is going to pop off. When it does your dress is going to fall forward. I’m going to back up right over here,” I said stepping a few steps back, “Just so you know that I had nothing to do with this, and one, two, three.”
No sooner had I said it then the button popped, her dress fell forward, and while she was fast I still got to see what she was hiding behind the dress. There wasn’t much sag in them, and both of her breasts looked like they could have easily won awards.
“Hey!” she shouted looking at me.
“Sorry, I know, trust me I know, but like I said that’s why I stepped over here. Now, because you were a lovely assistant I do have a special t-shirt, and I think that you may want to slip it on. Umm, you may ask one of your friends to hold the towel for you for a moment before you do,” I said as I held out a black shirt from the duffle bag that I carried with me.
I didn’t wear my printed tees. No reason to, but I knew good advertisement was where you saw it. Having a beautiful woman, or mare, wearing your name across their breasts was often the best way to help make sure that some folks managed to make it to your street shows. Besides, it was just nice seeing my name framed by a beautiful set of breasts. I watched as the stallion came over, held her towel, and she quickly grabbed the offered shirt before pulling it over her head.
“Everyone, let's give a round a round of applause to our lovely assistant,” I said as she walked back into the crowd with her herd mate.
I looked at the group and I had officially turned them into customers. They were enthralled, entertained, and if I was lucky had some fairly decent depth in their pockets. I performed a couple of card tricks, using what Standley had taught me, and then I decided on one more really good show stopper. Normally one was good enough to get some payment, but every once in the a while the universe decided to be a pal and put things in motion for you.
“Ladies and gents, when I count to three the young lady to the left of me is going to feel a very strong breeze,” I said.
Everyone turned toward the blond waitress that had stepped out for a smoke break and was watching the show. She looked around trying to see what I was talking about. It didn’t hurt that she was dressed like Marilyn Monroe, the dress was perfect for what was getting ready to happen.
“One, two, three,” I said before a vent under her feet erupted in a blast of cold air causing her skirt to fly up. She was lucky enough to be wearing panties, but like I had seen a few moments before they were tiny black lacy little things. Her face turned red and she quickly turned around and headed back into the casino.
“Thank you Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you, That’s all for this show, if you enjoyed it please, leave a tip, and if you would like to purchase a Dylan Drake shirt they’re ten credits for sizes small through large, eleven for extra large, twelve for two X, and fifteen for anything over that,” I said.
I held out my tablet, and a few individuals walked up, some buying shirts, others giving me a tip. The three Equestrians walked forward, and the butter yellow pegasus bought herself and her husband a shirt to match their other herd mate’s. I thanked them, watched as they began to wander down the vegas strip, and then I turned around.
Thanks to the show I now had five hundred credits. The truth is doing these shows would barely pay for rent, if I was just doing the show. I suppose I should say that the five and two bit magic acts you see are sometimes ways that real magic and hide in the open. Sure, having the Equestrians here made magic more accepted, but some kinds of it… Some kinds of it still wasn’t accepted at all.
There was certain things that were natural, but would frighten people. Like being able to tell what was going to happen before it happened. To most people it was a funny gimmick that was something cool a Vegas performer did for his show. The truth was something that might scare those same people. Of course being one of these individuals that had this ability I’d learned to use it to my advantage, especially in the casinos, but never against people. I always, always played the house.
I walked up to blackjack table, looked at the dealer, and I started playing. The rule was to never, ever, go big. It’d be easy enough to do that. To go big enough to never have to worry about work again, but doing that would get you noticed by the wrong kind of people. I might want the attention of the folks watching my magic act, but I didn’t want the attention of someone who could bring a world of shit down on me.
Instead I learned the basic rules. Win a couple of grand, move to a different table, win a few hundred, move to another table, lose a couple hundred on purpose, then walk to the slot machines. There I’d find the ones that was about to have a couple thousand credit payouts, play them, win, collect, and go home.
I started to play, won, like I had any other night, and that’s when I saw her, or rather I saw her before I saw her. She was another Equestrian, like those who were outside, but she seemed to be working here. I could see where she was, in front of the fountain that was out in front of Caesar's Palace, and the clock said that it was seven pm.
I took a look at the clock inside of the casino. Five after five. That was weird. I’d been able to see ahead, to see what was coming, but at the most I could push three minutes. This was the first time that I had ever, ever seen further than three minutes. I looked at table and again I could see just three minutes into the future. I played a couple more hands, took my winnings, and walked out. Normally I’d hit the slots, another table, and then leave, but this was bugging me.
It wasn’t just because it was a girl, sure an Equestrian girl, but a girl, but it was something else. I had seen further with her than I had ever seen before. There had to be a reason for that. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I was determined to figure it out. I walked out of the casino, down the street, and I felt something. I looked back to see an unmarked, white cargo van. I saw three men dressed in white shirts, black ties, and black slacks walk into the casino. That was something I recognized right off of the bat.
My blood ran cold when I saw them. Members of the Purists movement were here, and I doubted that they were here to try and convert the sinners gambling, fornicating, and endulging in every vice known to man or beast. No, I knew that they were here for me. I turned around, kept walking, and didn’t look back.
I’d grown up in a community about half an hour outside of Oklahoma City. The place was filled with the fanatic nonsense that made any religion look bad. I could remember us being told that we were sinful, our bodies shameful, and that what we had to look forward to was a life of pain and misery. I hated it there, and I hated it even more when they found out about what I could do.
I escaped from that place, and it felt like it was none too soon. Being a kid, barely fourteen, out in the world, and coming from a very sheltered background was a recipe for disaster. If it hadn’t been for Standley I’m sure I would have been raped, butchered, and my organs sold off on the black market a dozen times before now.
Standley was a lot of things. He was a cheat, a conman, but one thing he could always be counted on to be was a professional. He knew his trade, Vegas style show magic. I learned from him, becoming his apprentice, and I traveled with him as well. He typically did lowbrow shows, the kind you’d see in sleazy stripclubs, poor night clubs, or redneck bars, but when we made it Vegas he sort of hit it big.
He was performing at the MGM, doing an opening act, and he one upped Gerald ‘The Powerful’ Ozmand. Ozmand was a dick. No way around it. The guy didn’t like sharing the spotlight, and he didn’t like the fact that he had been upstaged by a little nobody like Standley, but he did know when he saw a good thing.
Standley’s magic tricks were the same tricks everyone had seen a thousand times in their lives. The disappearing, reappearing card trick was a staple at his shows, and so was the reappearing hundred dollar bill. That was a favorite of Standley’s. It let him know which audience members had the deepest pockets so he could work them over with some charm, some showmanship, and get a nice big tip out of it. Like any straight man ever Standley did love the ladies. To be honest I think that if he would have made it to see the Equestrians start appearing here he would have shacked up with one or two, and retired.
As it was Standley wouldn’t get to see them. A heart attack in the middle of his act would see to that. I was barely eighteen when he died. It was a sad day, after all, the man was like a father to me, but I had learned everything from him. I knew the kind of magic that would make it possible for me to hide in plain sight, and I knew the con lessons as well. Never take more than you’re absolutely sure is never going to be missed. Always, always see audience members as potential customers, and if you get a chance to see a nice set of breasts while you’re working, then you’ve had a good day.
I looked toward the standard clocks that adorned the outside of some of the smaller tourist shops. Another rule that Standley taught me. Small tourist places didn’t usually have cameras out front. Most of the time they had them inside of their businesses. So, looking at the front of the store was fine. There was less of a chance that someone would see your face on a video if you were looking at a small tourist store than at a casino.
The good news is, they never saw me; the bad news is my cover won’t hold for long here. I need to keep moving, so I head further down the Strip, hoping to catch a food truck or pass a restaurant passing out free samples. Standley always loved free samples. He used to call them “guilt free steals.” I have no luck on the gourmet side, but I did manage to keep ahead of my pursuers. The masses spilling into the streets this evening are better camouflage than military fatigues.
I milled into the crowd deftly; the locals and tourists doing a great job of hiding me. This got me thinking of why I had to hide. I was around the same time The Community found out about my gift. The Purist leaders discovered what I could do; they had planned for me to use it in select places, where they could “cleanse” certain officials and replace them their Purist brethren. They were grooming me to be their oracle; I never agreed to that and wasn’t interested in being used like that.
I listened to the sermons on Sunday morning, as well as those spoken on Tuesday, Thursday, and every other Saturday. That’s what always struck as odd: the sermons were about how evil man was, how sinful we all were. The pastors were about how God was love, but he had to punish us for our wickedness. When I was old enough to learn a few hundred dollar words (what is a dollar, anyway?), I discovered just how hypocritical those words were. If God were so loving, why did he punish us? If man is so wicked, who could he be saved, as Jesus was supposed to do when he was crucified.
By the time I was ready to jump ship and make a run for it, and my ability let me know they were coming, I had already decided that all this religious mumbo-jumbo was complete bullshit. I wasn’t going to be some modern day oracle for the Purists to use to guide targeted assassinations. And after the Equestrians started turning up, I had a feeling that they would use my powers to help them find and “neutralize” a few of them in good standing. If I couldn’t be party to murder a few humans, I was certainly not going to be party to the murder of innocent beings. I’ve been running to avoid being part of their nefarious schemes. They hunt me down to “return me to the flock” and make me “repent of my evil ways.”
They got pretty close, one time, when I was doing a small revue up the west coast. They were smart about it, too; it was like one of those interventions I’ve seen on Tragic Life Live Television. They invoked my mother and father, they tried to get me to remember my friends from within the Community, they even appealed to me sense of longing. It didn’t help that they ambushed me in my motel room and tied me to a chair… What ultimately stopped me from being “returned” was that these same imbeciles talking about how they were going to use my ability to “bring ruin to the filth infiltrating the land.”
Standley had taught me a few escape artist tricks, likely from times when he was in similar situations. He always warned me to keep a pocket knife or straight razor on myself at all times. And a paperclip, for good measure. I was thankful they didn’t search me; they would have found that straight razor of mine, the one with the pearl handle and silver embellishments, in my left coat sleeve. Good news for me, bad news for them. I cut away at my bonds while they were out for lunch, grabbed my few possessions, slipped out the bathroom window (closing it behind me for good measure,) and hitchhiked to Redmond, Washington. I don’t even think they rumbled where I left off to. And now they’re here in Vegas. I just hope I didn’t slip up.
I still had hundreds of credits to my name, which meant I could go anywhere in this city and disappear quite nicely and quietly. And I had a stash of scrip in my Winnebago, emergency cash in case I needed to flee town. This was certainly looking like this might the case. Then I thought of that mare, the one I saw back in the casio. I was getting hard just thinking of her. I mean, I’ve been everywhere with Standley; I’ve had my share of prostitutes. Fuck it all, I lost my virginity to one, right here in Vegas. God, was that a good time. We screwed around for hours, and when it was over, I showed her some of my magic tricks. Managed to get a small discount because I impressed the brassy blonde with the huge rack and firm booty.
I’m not one for sentimentality; Standley made it clear to me that standing still was growing roots and growing roots meant getting pulled. I didn’t want to get pulled, although I’ve never done anything that could get me sent to jail. Still, I wanted to know this girl, maybe buy her a dinner at one of the swankier dives off the Strip and take her to a no frills hotel and bang her till dawn. If something else came of it, so be it.
Caesars Palace was one of the small wonders in Vegas. The casino had went through about six owners in the last fifty years, but each one had somehow decided to keep it looking like it was intended to look. The fountain out front was one of the few things that changed. Originally there had only been the fountain inside of the Casino, but one of the other owners loved the design enough to have a larger version of it built outside. True to design the new fountain used Greco Roman lines, figures, and designs to complete the look of two perfectly formed humans entangled in kiss. Aphrodite’s kiss, I believe, was the name of the fountain. Standley had told me about it, and he told me that knowing the story would do two things for me.
One, it would cement the fact that I had lived in Vegas long enough to close enough to a local, and two, depending on the girl it might get me laid. I pulled out my Oakleys, slipped them on, and touched a small indention on the side of one of the frames. The Oakleys sent out a bluetooth signal, and a moment later I was connected to the free access Immersion port that Caesars Palace provided. My glasses completely blacked out the world around me, and instead I began seeing the digital world appear.
There was a ton of folks that escaped here, into this digital universe, believing that existing here for hours at a time was better than living actual life. I’d seen everything this universe had to offer, and none of it beat actual life. Sure, there was adventures, sex, and everything else you could ever want in your life, but it was all fake. It was a con of massive proportions, and nearly every sucker in it had bought into its con completely.
That wasn’t why I was here though. No, I just wanted the international atomic clock. A moment later I saw the time. Six fifty, there was about ten minutes to go. I pressed the indention again, and the glasses slowly returned my normal vision. I slipped my Oakleys off, put them back into my pocket, and took a seat on the edge of the fountain.
I’d heard about the Equestrian’s appearing, just like everyone else, but I’d never actually seen it happen. I looked where I had seen the girl, the mare, in my vision and for moment there was nothing and then there was a blinding bright white light. It cleared and there she was. I had expected her to simply walk up, but I didn’t expect her to just appear. She looked around, seemingly confused, and then she turned toward Caesars Palace. I could see the surprise on her face, then the worry. I stepped forward, slowly, holding out a hand.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said.
“Is… Is this Las Pegasus?” she asked.
Author's Note
(AN: woah... Another Vogonverse story?! I'm not just updating one, I'm making another actual cannon one?! Yeah, I am. I've had this on the back burner for a while, and I decided to bring it out, dust it off, and add a bit of flash to it. I hope that everybody enjoys the ride...)
