Authentic Las Vegas
One day, the Luxor pyramid in Las Vegas turned to stone. Men in loincloths began going from room to room, cutting the eyes out of those who dared look at the Pharaoh’s chambers. Up the strip at Excalibur, sword-wielding men on horseback began robbing all passersby, in tribute to the king. The Rio became swamped with starving children, begging in Portuguese. New York New York began smelling like urine. The cast of the Treasure Island pirate show grabbed woman from the street and hauled them below decks. Fascist troops stormed from the Venetian, and quickly took over Paris Las Vegas. The Mirage simply disappeared. Caesar’s Palace threw tourists down into its amphitheater, where hungry white tigers waited. And it all began sinking in quicksand, freshly made from the sandstorm furiously firing out from the Sahara to the northeast, and the rising floodwaters of Orleans to the southwest.
