An oasis? No, a Vegas suburb.

Las Vegas International is tucked as close to The Strip as they could get it, the quicker to deliver you to the casinos.

I could pick out my hotel—The Hilton, that big whiteish building toward the right. The gray sprawling complex in front of it is the Convention Center.

Industry operates at the edge of town. No, I didn't photoshop the color of that chemical pool.

Even in the high desert of Nevada, we must have golf courses.

People actually live in Las Vegas. They have houses and cars and swimming pools and stuff.

There's grassy parks with fountains. Where do they get all this water from, anyway?

"We'd like to be the first to welcome you to Las Vegas, where the local time is, uh..."

As we roll on the taxiway, the smell of jet exhaust begins filtering through the air vents. At least we'll be out of here in a few minutes!

We don't care if the contents shifted during flight! Open those bins and let us out of here!

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