During the first, he couldn't help but think of money and how immovable the earth could be. He alternated between depression over how much he had already blown on the Dog and awe at the outlay the Mirage must spend to keep its volcano erupting. How much action did the magicians have to bring in for the hotel to just break even? An ocean of cash, probably. Geysers of cash, Niagras of cash--but so controlled that they never ever spilled a drop on him.

Once, he'd thought that perseverance was the thing. But leaning against the guard rail, the second eruption going off with the regularity of a cuckoo clock, he couldn't be sure anymore. The jets of flaming gas rose as they had another time he'd been so tired: the time he'd accidentally blown up the oil refinery where he'd worked back home--a turn of the wrong valve and--oops!--KaPow! Only here, the fire balls were beautiful, the booming sound effects as orchestrated as a symphony and so perfect that he felt stupid for thinking he could turn himself into part of it just by finding the right combination of things to say.

It hadn't always been that way. In fact, it was while watching the flames roar out of control at his old day-job, a quick lie having slipped the blame, that he'd been sure, as sure as he'd ever been of anything, that the right words could transform his life. No sooner had he changed his name from Walter Roskowsi than he'd begun his climb up from truck-stops to basement supper-clubs to that glorious moment: his first laugh in a real lounge. Jimmy still felt gravity's hold weaken when he thought of himself transfigured by stage lights, absolutely glowing in his first baby-blue tux as he delivered his monologue. It was also about that time that the refinery had begun to figure out who turned the wrong valve and the convergence of the two events hit him with the force of clairvoyance. He quit his day job to prepare for Vegas--Vegas!--where night was day and day was day too!--the name still gave him gooseflesh. It was just about then that he'd discovered the Dog and instead of auditioning as a warm-up act, he'd been sure that his lines in the mouth of the Dog would land them smack in the middle of the main stage. He was still sure.