Prologue

Rich people,

Poor people,

They all got dreams...

Find them down in New Orleans


In the corner of Duke's, the shadow man of New Orleans sat at the table pretending interest in the menu at hand. But despite the array of interesting foods at his choosing, he was far more interested in the sight before him.

There not far away were two young girls chatting amicably, despite the fact they were opposite as night and day. It was an uncommon sight in the segregated south, and would have his interest in the first place, even if it were not trying to listen in.

"Prince Naveen of Maldoina is coming to New Orleans!" the southern belle squealed, "isn't he the bees knees!"

Dr. Facilier lowered the menu ever so slowly to better hear the conversation, although by now the southern belle was shrieking loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear.

"Big Daddy's throwing a Masquerade ball, welcoming him as our guest! Imagine that, a Prince! It's just like although fairy tales we used to read."

"Lottie, that's swell," the waitress said, carrying a plate of beignets to the eagerly awaiting Mr. La Bouff. Grinning, the big man reached for one with great anticipation on his face. "But a word of advice, my mama's always said the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach!"

"That's it," the southern belle shrieked, as she grabbed the powered doughnut, "Tia I'm going to need about five hundred of your man-catching beignets for my ball tonight." She reached in her father's wallet shoving a fist full of cash at the girl. "Should this about cover it?"

"Yes," the waitress whispered counting the money, "this just about covers it. I'm finally getting my restaurant!"

The southern belle spun around, in glee. "Tonight my prince is finally coming, and I'm sure as heck ain't letting him go!" She pulled her father away from the table shoving him out the door. "Come on Big Daddy we got to get everything ready!"

The door slammed and the waitress blessed with good luck and richer friends went back to her job with enthusiasm that was faked no longer.

Placing his menu flat on the table, Dr Facilier smiled to himself and at his shadow as he pulled out his tarot cards, shuffling them.

Wishes, dreams, aspirations, whatever name there was for it, it was always good for business. People did anything to make sure all their dreams come true after all. And that desire was what he used to his advantage, and with he had in mind. It just might be a plan that will right the wrongs and strike a balance that was present no longer.

And with a change of balance meant his luck was about to turn around for good. He just needed to consult a few friends....