<div class="floatright">(http://i207.photobucket.com/albums/bb117/hopefox17/Cuckoo.jpg)</div>Cuckoo looked between Kurt and Jack as they provided their magical analyses of the situation, her expression growing more grim by the second. She waited for them to finish before speaking. "You say the building itself is more deeply enchanted than a temple to the Gods? Then this has to be the work of the Titans, or a very powerful, irresponsible servant of the Gods." She looked out over the balcony nervously. "It's expanding... to cover the whole city of Las Vegas? That would be a disaster. We don't have as much time as we'd like, then."<br/><br/>She fumbled around for another bottle of whiskey, this time twisting the top off in a more conventional fashion. "So what's the link with the murders? I don't see how..." She trailed off, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the bottle. "It's a farm. It's a fucking cattle farm. The guests are conduits for hedonistic energy - they're the grass. The energy is going into the musicians, the cattle, through the music or sex or whatever. Then the killer comes along and slaughters the musicians, to harvest the energy. That's what they're doing. It's disgusting." Seemingly by accident, the bottle shattered beneath her grip, sending a shower of whiskey and glass shards to the floor. She grumbled and started picking pieces of glass out of her fingers.<br/><br/>"That's my theory, anyway. It's probably not exactly on the money, but it's got to be about energy. They're preparing something, something big." She turned to Jack and Asuka. "Can one of you find out more about the musicians? Did they all perform in the Arcadia before they died?" She bit her lip anxiously. "Jack, I've got a really bad feeling about what will happen if you perform, and I don't just mean that someone will try to kill you."<br/><br/>When Kamala spoke about not knowing how she could help, she put a finger to her chin, thinking deeply. Before she could figure out what to say, though, the young doctor had vacated the room. "Hmm. I was going to say that Kamala might be the best one to analyse the food and drinks and how they affect the guests. That might be why she's here, as Kurt says. I'll suggest that when we see her downstairs."<br/><br/>She shifted uncomfortably on the floor, and scratched behind her shoulder. "Look, this might out me as the dumb muscle I am, but what if we just go to the office or the basement and start punching people until we get to the bottom of this? We know this place is evil. Most of the staff are probably pawns, but somebody is behind it all. If it's a Titanic cult, we don't actually need to know what their plan is, we just have to stop it by stopping them.<br/><br/>"And the sooner we sort this out, the sooner we can relax and have some fun. I hope I can count on one of you gentlemen to help a lady out. Trust me, I'm more fun in bed than I look."