Alakazam!

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona was about to choke Rod when she blinked ::

"Whot?"

[Rod Stafford]

"He's a fraud. A phoney."

He slowed so Fiona could fall in line with him, and he leaned in to her ear.

"He's like me."

[Owen Sharpe]

"Aha, a good magician never reveals his secrets!" Owen laughed, wagging his finger at an elderly couple. "That would just spoil the mystery, my good people".

He shook the gentlemen's hand, before moving along, collecting a glass of wine from a passing waitress. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Fiona and her companion. Waiting for them to move fully into the room, he made his way over to them.

"Ah, my lovely assistant!" he called, briskly pacing over to the couple. "I do hope you both enjoyed the show?", waving a waitress over with more wine for them.

[Fiona Devlin]

"Yes." she lied through her teeth. "I do love having sharp objects tossed at me."

[Rod Stafford]

"Hmph! Show..."

Rod scoffed, he snatched a glass of wine from the tray carried by the waitress and gulped it. His fierce gaze fell back upon the charlatan.

"More like a... a mockery!"

[Owen Sharpe]

Owen gazed back at the man, an eyebrow lifted.

"Mockery?" he repeated. "Apolagies, but I don't follow my good man."

[Rod Stafford]

He gave Fiona a knowing glance, she rolled her eyes, then he leaned in close to him and without blinking, said:

"I know what you are."

[Owen Sharpe]

Owen frowned. It seemed he'd performed to another believer.

"If you would be so kind" he said, motioning for the two to follow him.

He lead them through a nearby door and into a white corridor that smelled of fresh paint.

"I can understand that what you've seen today may seem as real as a slap around the chops" he explained, turned to the two. "However, you must remember that magic is not real. It is not a force in existence. My show is for entertainment purposes. Designed to dazzle and enthrall. Nothing more. It is all an illusion, you see?"

[Fiona Devlin]

:: Fiona nodded ::

"Make sure it stays that way."

[Rod Stafford]

"Don't patronise me," Rod spat furiously, his finger pointed at Owen's face.

"A trick for you," he said, and raised his wine glass so that the magician could see its contents.

He glanced around first then stared at the wine intently, uttered the Enochian word for "dust", and with a flick of the wrist, he emptied the glass. The wine leapt out and suddenly dispersed into a fine red mist, which Rod blew at Owen, speckling his face crimson.

"I would suggest you clean yourself up but there's no need. After all, it's just an illusion."