At the Hawaii Center for Tourism and Culture, Magoo danced with fire knives and Audrey climbed coconut trees. Two large, brown-skinned Chinese hired to pretend to be from Easter Island, they worked nights while studying full-time for their MBAs at Blue College. At school they were two among many, but at work all that changed. They were stars. Even with sharp fronds and hot flames distracting them, they spoke clearly and kept eye contact with the rapt crowd. From their respective stations, he at the outdoor pavilion and she at the rain forest gardens, they stunned audiences and at the same time studied equations they’d penned into the fake tattoos on their arms. After finishing work, usually around midnight, they drove slowly back to their apartment. What they talked about in the car varied. Sometimes they discussed business things—junk bonds, the euro, how hedge funds had tanked the Hong Kong stock exchange. Other times they made funny bets with each other, like “Who could eat the biggest meatball, me or you? How big?” Or, “Who could take the most pain? The water torture test? Seppuku?” Or, “Who could outrun a bear? Would spraying it with mace first be fair?”

Audrey and Magoo looked forward to a life in they didn’t know what yet, a restaurant, a store, some kind of new service. They imagined themselves the inventors of something unexpected, the next Wite-Out—Green-Out, maybe, which would go perfectly with the brain-washing pills they’d invent to make people write on green paper only. It was only a matter of time before they found something. They weren’t going to be stuck in school or at the center forever.

But one day there was an accident. What they had of each other became all at once less. Their skills failed them. Magoo caught on fire. Audrey fell.