Mon-Sun 2 pm-1 am – Horseshoe Las Vegas Lower Level (Hours subject to change)

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curiosities.

North American red-tailed hawk, preserved It was a beautiful thing to watch Maurice at work. Albert Gilley liked nothing more than to sit on the roof of his apartment building watching his bird gyre in the evening air, then swoop down and pluck an unsuspecting toy poodle or Yorkshire terrier up out of the park. So graceful.

As he watched the herd, Lev Brewster looked out over the sea of prairie grass, gentle gold waves as far as he'd ever roamed. He saw a picture of a tall ship in a book once and now he carved them from cattle horns, dreaming of when he'd have enough money to take a trip on one of those ships.

Aristophanes considered himself to be a prime specimen of cymbal-playing monkey, every bit as good, if not better than that little show-off Charles William. Oh the scamp could keep time, there was no doubt about that, but what idiot couldn't with a internal winding mechanism? None of the other dimwit toys had managed to slip their surly clockwork shackles as he had, discovering a sublime asynchronicity that mirrored the beautiful chaos of life. It was with these thoughts that Aristophanes comforted himself, sitting at the bottom of the toy bin where he had been abandoned because he appeared broken. C-clink c-c-c-c-link c-c-link-k-k-k-k.