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“For my next trick, I’ll need two volunteers from the audience.” Zatanna prowled the stage, knowing quite a bit of the audience was more interested in how her legs looked in her stockings than how her magic looked in the FoxTeca Amphitheatre. She looked over her audience. The high-ticket seats were largely in tuxedos, almost all men, but further back, the crowd expanded to include people in simple business suits, women in evening gowns, and finally blue-collar people in their Sunday best, tickets raffled off at half-price for various charities. She walked to the edge of the stage, crouching down between two footlights to look at the front row. All men, which wasn’t anything new. All except one. Diana Prince sat primly—she could do just about anything primly—on the side of Bruce Wayne. She was dressed conservatively, her dress running from her neck to her toes, but she still got at least as many glances as Zatanna. But then, so did Bruce. “You, perhaps?” Zatanna asked. “And your lovely date?” “Well, I—“ Bruce began. “I was talking to the lady.” Bruce smiled meekly, Diana reaching up to take Zatanna’s offered hand. “We’d be thrilled.” Zatanna stood, gave the stage a kick, and the chest-high elevation dropped away to become a ramp for Bruce and Diana to walk up, earning Zatanna a few chuckles. On the stage, her himbo assistants had brought out three cabinets. “Now if we can deprive the audience of your beauty for just a minute—still talking to the lady, Brucie—could you please step inside the cabinets?” “I don’t suppose we could share one?” Bruce asked wryly—getting more laughs than the ramp bit—and got into one as Diana shooed him. Zatanna would have to remember that line. Diana got into the next cabinet. Zatanna herself threw open the door to the third. “Well, can’t blame Wayne for trying. I know I’d love to get into Wonder Woman’s box. Guess I’ll just have to enter my own.” She climbed inside, shut the door, and did some chanting. With a little astral projection, she could see the audience gasp as the cabinets started to weave around each other like a shell game, no wires, no cranes, just hundreds of pounds of wooden furniture sweeping about the stage. They came to a rest. “Now then,” Zatanna’s disembodied voice came. “If all you lovely people in the audience would care to find me—Wonder Woman certainly isn’t going to finish the show…” The cabinets had moved around fast, but not that fast. The crowd shouted out and soon the obvious vote was for the middle cabinet. “You heard ‘em, boys. Let me out of here before I get a cramp.” The himbos opened the middle cabinet. It was empty. The audience graciously applaused. “Oh, well, maybe Wonder Woman will have to finish up for me. Can someone find her, please?” The other two cabinets were opened empty space. “Okay then. Some minor technical difficulties. Guess this is as good a time as any for an intermission?”