As he sat alone in his new room, The Prince knew one thing for sure, it was time.  Time to become what he had always dreamed of.  Time for him to step up and show the streets who he was.  Time for him to go throw up in the bathroom once more before he started his journey.  Oh yeah, it's that time.

Finally finding himself ready to step out the door with his hand on the knob, he took one last breath, fixes his posture, and heads out to see what he can make of himself.  He couldn't rightly tell if he was excited or just plain nervous but as the sights and sounds of the one and only Las Vegas washed over him, he was ready.

"Hey Kid, you just going to stand there gawking??"

The Prince looked to his right and realized that in all of his excitement to get out of the dingy motel room that had been his residence since he got to the city he failed to notice what looked like scrawny kid at least 10 years younger then himself.  Looking him up and down he could think of no reply other then "Kid?"

"Ain't you heard it's called a FAMILY around here?? That makes me like your older brother seein as how I grew up in it! Don't matter none though, boss says 'no more lazin about'.  It's time for you to get to work and show the Family what you are capable of."

With his little monologue concluded, the kid gives an awkward chuckle and runs off down the street without so much as a 'catch ya later'.

The Prince was amused at the odd way his message was delivered.  If he was being completely honest with himself, this was exactly what he needed to crush the last traces of nervousness from him.  A part of him wished that he could thank the kid for the motivational kick but he knew he was more then likely to see the kid around again sometime.  

With a new found sense of determination The Prince sets off to blaze his path and make a name for himself.

Less than 24 hours ago, Honesty stumbled out of a bar. He was drunk... again... on maple syrup. It's the bender that had to stop, but never will. The maple god has become one with the syrup and no matter what, the two are inseparable. Once on the pavement after stumbling out of the bar, Honesty picked himself up while stumbling and gripping the rough edges of the bricks holding up the bar. He held this position for a good minute, waiting for his vision to stop being blurry. "Weird", Honesty thought. "Why are there three shadows moving in front of me?" It's then that Honesty realized that two of the three shadows were just part of his blurry vision. Once Honesty's vision stabilized, he teeter-tottered to the shadowy figure.

"Hey, you, sir. I've had vision about you... well three of you... but that's not important. I'm on an incredible maple sugar high, but the maple has spoken to me with its sweet, succulent, sticky words. It has drawn me to you. I think you are special."

That is when Honesty handed an invitation to The_Prince.

"If you think my sudden appearance is weird, you haven't seen anything else. Welcome to the nut house and the city of crazies. I hope you'll enjoy your stay".

Watching the sticky, drunken, and possibly insane figure stumble away down the street, The Prince felt his confidence growing.  Not only did he absolutely believe that he was currently in a city of crazies, given his interesting interactions so far, but he knew that he had finally found a place to fit in. 

"The Prince needs to get on his level" he says to himself, startling a passerby who gives him a weird look.  As he starts wandering down the street he unfolds the letter to see what the rest of his day might bring.  The only thing written on it was an address and one line 'Floor 3. Make sure you have a thick skin'

As The Prince dutifully made his way to the address written on the invitation, he couldn't help but wonder what was meant by 'thick skin'.  So far in his time in the streets he had mostly only run into slightly odd but generally affable individuals so the thought of needing thick skin slightly unnerved him.

There was no question as to his arrival for when he looked up from being lost in his thoughts on the note there was a huge building in front of him with a sign on it that said 'Island of Misfit Toys'.  Island of Misfit Toys huh? Yeah, The Prince was going to fit in just right here.

Upon entering, The Prince was 'greeted' by a lazy guard sitting behind a desk with his feet up.  From where he was standing it looked like the guard had a lewd magazine laying on the desk in front of him.  "Prince?" he asks.

"Actually its The Prince" was his automated response.  He was used to the interaction.  His whole life he had been explaining that it was The Prince not just Prince.  He didn't even take notice of the response any longer.

The guard lifts an eyebrow slightly but says nothing more, merely points to a dimly lit elevator in the corner of the room.  The Prince walks over to the elevator trying to play it cool.  Fake it till you make it right? He thinks to himself.  As the elevator opens a large puff of smoke is released into the lobby and he gets a lazy smile from the elevator operator. 

The Prince steps in the elevator with a little cough as the operator closes the door with a chuckle.  He offers The Prince what he can only assume is a joint, based off of the non-tobacco like smell wafting from the small object.  The Prince shrugs, takes a large inhale, and immediately starts coughing.  

The operator throws his head back laughing and asks "Floor 3?" as he takes back his joint.  The Prince can do nothing but nod his head frantically as he tries to get his lungs back under control.

What seems like ages later, he is finally breathing normally again and the elevator door opens.  The Prince can hear muffled voices and laughter coming from a series of doors lining the hall.  As he approaches the first one he sees that the door has writing on it. 'Vegas General'.

The Prince takes one last deep breath before slowly turning the knob and entering the room.