He woke up all alone in the darkness. He felt something
cold and metallic around his wrist. What the hell? What's going on? He had been handcuffed before, but not like this. He's an escape artist, illusionist even. He's a very famous man, living in the sinful and colorful city of Las Vegas, Nevada. Yet, why is he locked in this room all alone? He looked down and noticed he was shirtless. Where's my shirt? His muscular tanned abs were exposed in the dark room, as he felt his long dark hair touching his shoulders and below his neck. He pulled on the handcuff. Damn it! I've escaped out of these before! Why isn't it working now?
He heard footsteps coming, as his moyo started to race. He heard a giggle, as a blonde girl wearing his symbols and clothing line stood before him. She smiled in a sinister way, "Hello, Mr. Angel! We've been expecting you!"