WAS WORKING through Italian spumoni on a cone as Fang and I threaded our way amid the streaming crowds on the sidewalk. Those of you who haven’t been to Vegas — well, it’s bizarre in sort of a “let’s gussy up this car wreck” kind of way. It’s Disney World meets the seedy underbelly of America. But with more liquor and people smoking. A grown-up amusement park.

“I’m dying to go to a casino,” I confessed to Fang.

“We’ll have to throw ourselves three more birthday parties first,” he said. “It’s illegal — we’re underage.”

“So when has that ever stopped us?” I stared at him. “That’s just a way to make sure crazy kids don’t spend all their parents’ money. We’re not crazy, and we don’t have any parents’ money. Just our own hard-earned cash from all those CSM air shows we did.”

“Which has gotta be running low about now. You really want to risk losing it?”

“Don’t get all grown-up on me. This is, like, our vacation from being the grown-ups of the flock. And I want to go… .” I looked around at the spectacularly campy scenery.

“There,” Fang declared, pointing to a building in the shape of a … horse? It definitely topped the Bizarre-o-Meter of novelty architecture. “The Trojan Horse.”

Suddenly I was having second thoughts. “Wasn’t that, like, a giant sculpture that was full of enemy soldiers or something? Back in the old days?”

Fang looked blank. “Guess I missed that lesson in Max’s Home School.” He took my hand. “Come on!”

We strolled in easily across the dizzyingly patterned carpet. Barbie doll women with trays of drinks were zipping around helping to get people loopy so they’d spend more money. Even without a drop of alcohol, it took about two seconds for me to become seized with a very unnatural need to gamble.

Fang leaned close and whispered, “Don’t freak out, but there are cameras in the ceiling every couple feet.” Ordinarily, that fact would guarantee I’d break out in paranoid hives. “And notice the guys in dark suits standing around watching everyone? Don’t worry. They’re just looking for cheaters.”

“Cheaters? us?” I smiled. “I guess we’re safe.”

The flock had always looked a little older than our biological ages — guess that came from being evolutionary wonders. But I was surprised that people didn’t boot us out immediately. Imagine money being more important than law enforcement!

We got a bunch of quarters and parked ourselves in front of a Treasure Island slot machine. I fed a quarter into the slot and pulled the arm. The wheels spun fast, eventually stopping with cherries, a weight, and the number seven.

My eyes narrowed and I pushed another quarter in.

Another miss.

“That machine took my money!” I said. “I must have revenge! Fang, get on that machine next to me,” I ordered, spilling half of my quarters into a separate plastic bucket for him. “This could take a while.”

And so our hypnotic rally began. Seriously, those spinning wheels can really send you into the zone. I guess that’s the point.

Maybe that explains why it only took about fifteen minutes for the machine to start messing with me.

’Cause instead of cherries, bars, and numbers, I saw a cartoony wolf face pop up.

Then another.

Then another. Jackpot?

“Jackpot, Max!” I heard the voice of Dr. Gunther-Hagen come from behind me.