A new breed of investment bankers appeared on the Las Vegas scene with plenty of money to risk backing corporations anxious to expand their playgrounds in the city that never sleeps, but no one ever investigated where these renegade banks suddenly got all that money.  Casinos are not the only arena in Nevada where there’s big money to be made. 

     Nuclear waste is the ugly byproduct of an ever-increasing appetite for power demanded by the American public.  No state wants a dump site which would be radioactive for a billion years in their back yard.  The barren wastelands of Nevada, populated by coyotes, jackrabbits and snakes seems like the perfect place to create a vault bored deep into the mountains standing guard over uninhabited alkali flats.  The trucking company that delivers the volatile nuclear cocktail will make millions hauling the devastating dilemma created by government stupidity and human greed.

The Supreme Wizard of Golfinsphere charged Gwen (short for Gwendolin) with an important responsibility. She is to seek out the wretched, find the miserable, locate the lonely and depressed, and convince them they can enjoy a better way of life. Unfortunately, it was not a bit unusual for a fairy godmother to spend years perfecting her craft. Every fairy godmother worth her magic wand wanted to move up the executive ladder to the next rung–guardian angel.

Gwen was attracted to the glow of a lot of lights as she hovered around the planet looking for a place to fulfill her contract with the Supreme Wizard. Looking around, via the miracle of a hand-held, no bigger than a modern day, pocket-sized cellular flip-phone, this magic device could peer into the private lives of human beings. Gwen came to the immediate conclusion casinos were cesspools of human misery. Las Vegas was the perfect place to earn a coveted Angelship.