J.E. Bright - The Jokers Magic Mayhem

Santoro is a master of and control anyone. He does all the classic tricks, too.

For once, Tim the secret identity of crime fighter Robin wasnt talking about a super-villains nefarious powers. He and Bruce were attending a charity performance by the Magnificent Santoro. The world-famous magician was part of the celebration for the grand re-opening of the theater.

Bruce shook hands with local celebrities and business people he knew as they moved toward their seats. The elite of Gotham City would be surprised if they knew that he was actually Batman! They only knew Bruce as the billionaire .

Beautiful work fixing this theater, Mayor Grange told Bruce as they passed by her. Its truly a fitting to your parents now.

Thank you, Mayor, replied Bruce. It was unfortunate that it had fallen into disrepair.

Fixing the theater helps the whole neighborhood, added Tim.

Bruces parents had been murdered when he was a little boy, right outside this theater. The traumatic event had led Bruce to swear revenge on all criminals and ultimately become Batman.

Enjoy the show, Mayor Grange said, and she sat down after Bruce and Tim shuffled past her.

And we couldnt let this location be a hideout for criminals anymore, Tim whispered to Bruce as they sat down in the front row. Imagine the Jokers nerve setting up his headquarters in here for a while.

If theres anything the Joker has, replied Bruce, its nerve.

They both fell silent as the lights dimmed. The audience settled down behind them, and everyone applauded as the curtains opened.

A young woman in a sparkly silver gown pushed a tall, fancy cabinet onto the stage. She smiled as she opened the wooden cabinet, showing that it was empty inside. Then she shut the door and began to spin the whole cabinet, faster and faster.

The woman hopped up on the foot of the cabinet and twirled with it, her dress glittering as the box spun to a blur. Then she put down her foot. STOMP! The cabinet stopped abruptly. The door swung open with an outpouring of dry ice vapor, and out stepped the Magnificent Santoro.

The audience applauded as the thin man in a tuxedo took a deep bow. He wore a tall turban with a spinning emerald embedded in a hollow in front. The turban stayed perched on his head even during the deepest part of his bow. He swirled his long, red cape behind him as he strode to the front of the stage.

Nice entrance, whispered Tim.

Bruce nodded. Impressive trick, too, he said. It must be much more difficult to get in and out of that cabinet when its twirling like that.

Welcome! announced Santoro as the applause subsided. I see youve met Rachelle, my assistant. Take a bow, my dear.

Rachelle curtsied and smiled.

And now, lovely Rachelle, exit stage left, continued Santoro.

With a kick, Rachelle pushed the open cabinet toward the left side of the stage. She ran faster, shoving the open box ahead of her. Then she jumped in and shut the door.

The cabinet slowed to a stop against the left side curtain. Then the door swung open.

Rachelle was gone.

After Rachelles disappearance, Santoro pulled everyones focus by performing a simple trick with cups and small green balls on a floating table.

A simple misdirection trick, whispered Tim. But he used an amazing number of combinations with just three cups.

Following the cup and balls trick, Santoro raised his arms. The lights darkened to a spooky purple. Wisps of dry ice vapor wafted around him. The emerald spinning in the front of his turban glowed an eerie green.

There is a mysterious power that links all things, Santoro intoned in a calm voice. It is an invisible plasma, connecting both inanimate objects and creatures endowed with life. If one controls this harmonic energy, one may control any mind with mental magnetism. This is how I mesmerize.

Bruce glanced over his shoulder at the audience. Most everyone was staring at Santoro on stage, their mouths open in amazement, as though already hypnotized.

Bruce let out a low chuckle until he looked over at Tim to share the joke. He saw that his ward was as slack-jawed as everyone else. Santoro was certainly a terrific showman!

Young man, please join me up here on stage, Santoro said, and he gestured toward the audience.

A clean-cut teenage boy stood from his aisle seat and strode to the stage, hurrying up the stairs on the side.

And madam? asked Santoro, beckoning again. If you would join me as well.

An elegant older woman leaned on her husbands shoulder as she slid past him into the aisle. She held up the side hem of her gown as she walked up to stand beside the teenager.

Santoro fixed them both with an intense stare. Wild music swelled from backstage, and the vapor thickened as the emerald in Santoros turban flashed faster.

Good people, said Santoro, his voice echoing through the hall, listen to the soft hum that connects all things in our universe. Focus on that murmur of power, and feel it harmonizing with you, with every cell in your body, with every thought in your mind.

Bruce felt unnerved by how quiet the audience had become. Nobody was shuffling or coughing or whispering. They were all lost in total concentration. On stage, the teenager and the woman had matching blank expressions as they swayed on their feet.

Now, young man and lovely lady, said Santoro. You believe you are chickens.

Instantly, the teenager dropped into an awkward squat, shuffling his feet and bobbing his head.

The woman leaned over beside him, waggling her bent arms like wings. She let out a series of clucks.

The teen boy threw his head back and crowed like a rooster.

Now, wake! Santoro commanded. He clapped his hands.

Both the teenager and the woman froze in place. Sheepish smiles crossed their faces as they stood up.

The audience exploded in applause, hoots, and laughter.

Thank you very much, Santoro told his assistants. Youve been wonderful. Please, take your seats.

The crowd cheered for the lady and the teenager as they made their way back down, both with wide grins on their faces.

That hat could be dangerous in the wrong hands, said Tim.

Bruce shook his head. Mesmerism is a trick. Its only an .

I dont know, replied Tim. I felt really relaxed and willing to follow his suggestions.

Dont let anyone ever get in your head, Bruce warned. Always stay in control.

Ladies and gentlemen! Santoro called out. The next illusion I will perform for you tonight is my most dangerous. If I do it correctly, you may consider it my signature Santoro trick, for which I am justly famous. If I fail, we all must fear for our lives.

Santoro raised his hand, and a long, rectangular, silver curtain lowered from above the stage until it reached the floorboards. Lights flashed, shimmering off the shiny satin curtain.