[Veritas]

At the county courthouse, Criss waited in the lobby for George to arrive. He cursed the irony of the situation in which his cousin had landed. Assault and battery, my ass! he said to himself. They should give George a medal for nailing that (bleeper)! He's the hero in all this, not the villian! Meridian said they could mitigate the damages. God, I hope so, for George's sake.

He halted that train of thought when he saw George enter the lobby. He rose to greet him. "Hey, George," he said, extending his arm for a shoulder hug. "How's it goin'?"

"Okay, I guess," George deadpanned. "I got suspended from the Excalibur match."

Criss' jaw dropped. "You what?"

"The officials of the match heard about what I did to the Vegas Flasher, so they kicked me out," George explained. "I'm not off the team, though; Linehan's pretty much on my side about this."

"Oh, jeez, George, I'm so sorry," Criss moaned sympathetically. "I know how much it meant to you."

"There'll be other matches," George said, trying to cheer up his cousin and himself. "Right now, we got bigger fish to fry--I'm facing assault and battery charges, remember?"

"I talked to Detective Meridian," Criss said, "and he says maybe they can mitigate the damages because you were trying to protect Mom. I'll even post your bail if I have to, but I am going to make damn sure you don't go to jail over this! Kevin and the Flasher's in deeper (bleep) than you are. As far as I'm concerned, you're a hero for taking that (bleeper) down like that."

"Thanks, Criss."

"Hey, that's what family's for, right?"

George smiled for the first time that day. "Right!"

Criss motioned for him to follow. "Plea bargain's ready to begin," he said, leading him toward the elevator bank. "We got a real fight on our hands, so be prepared."

George cracked his knuckles in anticipation. "Believe me, Criss," he said, "I'm ready."




The plea bargain session followed the Bill of Rights standards to the very letter: the accused faced his accuser, the evidence was presented for examination, and attorneys for both parties were present. The magistrate for the county presided over the session as legal representative for the City of Las Vegas. Sergeant Dolan was also present to keep the peace. On the table lay photo stills taken from the surveillance cameras around the South Entrance that evening. A television set with an early model VCR stood on a tall stand in one corner of the room.

No one spoke at first. Alvin Zubrowski glowered at George through the gauze taped over his broken nose. George stared daggers at the ugly little man, still angry over his sordid little act against his elderly aunt Dimitra. Criss also stared grimly at the notorious Flasher; the man sitting opposite him had committed a crime against his mother, and he was determined that he should pay dearly for it.

The magistrate stood up to begin the proceedings. "Good morning," he said. "I am the magistrate for Clark County, and we're here to begin plea bargaining for..." He checked his file for the name of the defendant. "George Strump-o-liss, is that correct?"

George nodded. The magistrate continued. "Mr. Strumpolis," he said, "you've been charged with battery against Alvin Zoo-brow-skee--is that correct? How do you plead in this case?"

"Okay, I admit I punched the guy," George confessed without hesitation, "but you gotta understand that this guy flashed my aunt and his mother." He jerked his thumb toward Criss. "It was a defensive move. He's the one who broke the law, not me! And he's also the one who stole those photographs of Criss from the editing office, then tried to blackmail him out of a million dollars for 'em!"

"That doesn't excuse you for hitting like that!" Alvin shot back. "You broke my nose in four places! You have to answer for that!"

"Three places," Criss corrected him.

"Who the (bleep) cares?!" Alvin exploded. "That (bleeper) put me in the hospital!"

"You'd better control yourself, Alvin," Sergeant Dolan warned him, "or you could be adding contempt to the list of charges you racked up already."

"Shall we review the surveillance tape taken from the South Entrance of the Excalibur the night of the match?" the magistrate suggested.

"You do that," Alvin snarled. "Let everyone here see what that (bleeper) over there did to me."

"Mr. Strumpolis?"

George shrugged. "Yeah, what the hell? Go ahead."

The magistrate slid the videocassette into the VCR. On the screen, a bird's-eye view of the South Entrance appeared in grainy black-and-white. The lone figure of a woman pacing back and forth came into focus in the middle of the screen. Criss recognized her immediatly. "That's my mom!" he exclaimed. "My mom, his aunt Dimitra," he clarified for the record.

"We get it, Criss," George said irritably.

Suddenly, a dark figure emerged from the lower left hand corner of the screen. It walked in front of Dimitra, then spread its coat open like a pair of black wings, revealing the form of a naked man, fully tumescent. Dimitra recoiled in fear, stepping away from the flasher in horror.

Criss cringed in disgust, fighting back the urge to vomit. "Oh, my God!" he gasped. "I can't believe he did that!"

The flasher retreated, covering himself again. George and JD entered the picture, with the former in the lead. Everyone watched as the flasher halted before the two men for a moment, then as George threw the most powerful right hook anyone had ever seen squarely into the flasher's face, sending him sailing several feet into the air. Criss resisted the impulse to high-five George while the magistrate and Sergeant Doyle were present, but he did lean discreetly over to his cousin, murmuring, "Way to go, George!"

The tape wound to its end. The magistrate stopped the machine and turned to the parties present. "Does the counsel for the prosecution have anything to say on his client's behalf?" he asked.

The counsel for the prosecution stood to speak. "My client, Alvin Zubrowski, suffers a compulsive disorder causing episodes of exhibitionism," he explained. "He cannot control his actions. He has lost three jobs and both his marriages because of it."

Oh, cry me a river! George groaned to himself.

"The attack on my client, therefore, was unwarranted and unprovoked," the counselor said. "We demand either monetary damages or time served in prison for the defendant, preferably both. No other conditions will suffice for the pain and suffering my client had endured at the hands of this man." He pointed at George for emphasis.

"(Bleep) you!" George muttered under his breath.

"Does the counsel for the defense have anything to say on the behalf of his client?" the magistrate asked.

"I do," the defense said, rising indignantly. "The prosecution claims pain and suffering on the part of his client. What about the trauma of his aunt, Dimitra Sarantakos, after witnessing such a vulgar act? What about Davina Uberman, just fifteen years old when she was subjected to Mr. Zubrowski's 'compulsive disorder'? Mr. Zubrowski has sixteen counts of indecent exposure against him already! Plus the fact that he had allegedly stolen some photographs of Criss Angel from an editing studio, then blackmailing him for one million dollars--does that also fall under 'compulsive disorder'? From what we've seen in the videotape, Mr. Zubrowski's act had been premeditated, not compulsive. Mr. Strumpolis claims the blow he delivered had been provoked by the act of exhibitionism performed against his aunt, a defensive measure against a criminal sexual assault against a family member. To put him in jail for defending a member of his family against a sexual deviant such as Mr. Zubrowski is unjust and unfair. If my client pleads anything, it is no contest by reason of defense."

The defense sat down. "Does the defendant have anything to say on his behalf?" the magistrate asked.

"Yeah, I do," George said, rising. "Normally, I don't go around punching guys, at least not outside the boxing ring. Yeah, I busted Alvin's face here, but I felt I had good reason--he exposed his ugly ass in front of my seventy-four-year-old Aunt Dimitra! As you said, he's done this before, once in front of a minor, and the city's been looking for him ever since. He also stole a bunch of nude photos of my cousin, Criss, here, and tried to blackmail him over it! I don't go for the 'compulsive' bit--he knew what the hell he was doing! Same with all the other women he showed himself off to! And now he's giving us a sob story about how much he's suffered! He's the one who should go to jail, not me! Hell, I got suspended from the Excalibur match for bringing him down--that's punishment enough in my opinion! I don't need any more grief in my life."

George sat down again, drained. Criss put a comforting arm around his cousin's shoulder. The magistrate stood up and faced the assembled parties in the room. "I see that both parties are so firm in their convictions," he said, "that no compromise can be reached here."

He turned to Alvin. "Mr. Zubrowski," he spoke grimly. "Your egregious acts have already proven your guilt in this matter. You showed yourself to be irresponsible in your actions, compulsions notwithstanding. From the evidence shown in the videotape, you revealed, in more ways than one, your immaturity and your disregard for common decency and morality. You have no less than sixteen counts of indecent exposure, one against a minor--that alone will weigh heavily against you. You're injury is small compared to the ones you have inflicted against your victims. Therefore, you do not deserve any sort of compensation from anyone."

Alvin sputtered angrily. The magistrate then turned to George. "Mr. Strumpolis," he began. "First, let me say that you do have an incredible right hook. You've must have trained for years developing it."

George laughed a little, shrugging modestly. The magistrate continued. "The plea of no contest is accepted, under the provision of defense. There will be no need to go to trial over this matter. You will, however, be subjected to a fine of one thousand dollars for battery. While you are justified in your indignation against the crime committed against your aunt, physical violence is never in order. You'd be advised to restrain your boxing talents for competitions. Do you agree to the terms?"

"I agree," George said evenly.

"This case is dismissed," the magistrate said, tapping his gavel.

Alvin was livid. "Wait just a minute here!" he protested. "What about me? What the (bleep) do I get out of this? How come he walks away scot-free when I'm suffering pain and agony? I'm the one with the busted nose here!"

George turned to Alvin. "That's not all you're gonna be suffering," he said ominously. "Wait until you go on trial--then you're really gonna suffer!"

[Veritas]

A week had passed since George's plea bargain session. Criss magnanimously paid the thousand-dollar fine, claiming he owed his cousin a favor for punching the flasher who had threatened his mother. There was, however, no way to reinstate George back into the Excalibur match, despite the magistrate's ruling. Undaunted, George resumed his boxing training under Seamus Linehan, eagerly awaitng the next amateur match. "And it won't be no exhibition match, either!" he announced defiantly. "I'm going for the gold this time!"

Thanks in part to Criss' preemptive strike against Kevin Smythe and Alvin Zubrowski, the naked photo scandal all but fizzled in the eyes of the public. To furthur defuse the situation, Criss deliberatly showed edited versions of the photographs on Larry King Live, to the delight of the female Loyals and the consternation of the morally righteous.

Criss: "Here's the first one of me from the back."

(cut to photo of Criss Angel's naked backside shown from the hips down, with a faint hint of buttcrack)

LK: "Actually, that's not too bad. In fact, it's rather good. And you say your brother took this?"

Criss: "Yeah, he took all of them."

(cut to photo of Criss side profile, leaning on one arm against wall, one leg forward to block private parts)

Criss: "Here's the next one. You can see how tired I was; I just got back from a physical that afternoon."

LK: "You had a physical that same day?"

Criss: "Yeah, I had to strip for the doctors in the morning and for these photos that night." (laughs)

LK: "Quite a day you had."

(cut to photo of Criss sitting, arms and legs folded in front of him)

Criss: "This looks like an earlier photo of me, but it's not, really."

LK: "So, how many photos were there altogether?"

Criss: "About ten."

LK: "And they were stolen how?"

Criss: "Right out of the editing office. They got mixed up with some photos of my dad I wanted to use in an episode of MindFreak. The ones of Dad were left behind, thank God--I don't know what I'd do if they were lost. I don't care about the ones about me, but the ones of Dad are irreplacable."

LK: "Do you have them here with you? The ones of your dad?"

Criss: "No, sorry."

The reviews were mixed: while many praised Criss for his forthrightness in coming forward before the whole thing exploded into a major scandal, others admonished if not condemned him for posing nude in the first place, in spite of his insistance that the photos were the private property of his photographer brother, Costa.

"I'm not ashamed of my body," Criss stated. "But I don't believe in exposing it to an unwilling public like the Vegas Flasher. Besides, the FCC would have my head on a platter if I didn't censor out any 'sensitive' material. I try to respect people's feelings about these things, but as an artist, I choose to decide how to portray myself. And of course, I would never, ever, expose myself to children--that is child sexual abuse, and I would never, ever, abuse a child in any way. My show's on after ten PM, well after the so-called 'family hour', and I'm sure a lot of parents out there are careful about what their children watch on TV. The reason I'm here tonight is to prove to everyone that the photos are in no way pornographic, at least in my opinion, but are an example of the artistry of my brother, Costa. If they do offend you in any way, I apologize in advance."




The Loyal Community > Loyal Photos > Criss nude pix on Larry King

OU812: Criss was on Larry King live last night, and he showed THE PICTURES!!!!

(shows images of photos following)
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RoseRed13: omg those are so shmexy!!
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KrisLee: OMG!! *melts into a lustpuddle and dies*
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Greekgoddess: omg those are so HOT!!
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rachel1289: SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEE!
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BlueSkye: Wait a minute--they didn't show ALL of him, just the top half!1 They are no differnet that any other picutre of him I feel ripped off!!
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LoyalCaitlin: I don't feel ripped off. I think they're hawt!! I got myself a new screen saver!
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KrisLee: Some people don't think so. They think everyone should be all covered up when on TV. Maybe so, but the body isn't a dirty thing. Like Criss said, he's not ashamed of his body, but he doesn't flaunt it. Well, maybe a little bit...:wink
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Veritas: I can't understand what the fuss is all about. I think they are quite tastefully done. Costa is an excellent photographer, and I'd like to see more of his work.
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RoseRed13: Who cares what some people think I wanna see more Criss!!
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Alvin Zubrowski, meanwhile, had returned to the city lockup to await his trial for indecent exposure, criminal sexual assault against a minor, and burglary. His attorney had informed him that despite his criminal record, he could still sue George Strumpolis personally for wrongful injury. With that ray of hope, Alvin bided his time until he could face his attacker in court, one on one.

[Veritas]

Monday morning arrived. Like thousands of other working Americans, Criss headed to his office to do his share of pencil-pushing, spreadsheet-scanning, computer monitor-staring and other mundane white-collar tasks. Most of it was tedious routine, but occasionally small emergencies arose, little fires that had to be put out before they flared into major disasters. Being in charge of the entire company, it was his job to tend to them if he could not delegate others to do them for him. It was times like these that the glamor of showbusiness faded into cold reality; these were days when work was work.

As he approached the Production Office, he noticed something taped onto the glass door. Curious, but not too concerned, he pulled it off and took it with him into the office. It was probably a notice from security, or a memo from the hotel about some minor policy change, or a personal note from one of his staff. Nothing to worry about.

Criss tossed the note onto his desk and reached for his phone to check his voicemail. There were five messages recorded that morning, not too bad considering the demands on his time:

BEEEEEEEEEEP!

"Hey Criss, this is Dave. Great job you did on Larry King, but did you really have to show those pictures? I know they edited them, but still I wish you'd have let sleeping dogs lie. Gimme a call when you get this."

BEEEEEEEEEP!

"Criss, this is Mike. Production meeting at nine AM tomorrow. Don't be late. Have a good one."

BEEEEEEEEEP!

"Hey, Criss, this is Manny in Editing. I downloaded those pictures of your dad for the Sports episode. I can show them to you at the meeting tomorrow. See you then. Oh, by the way, did you get those nudie photos of yours back yet? Just asking."

BEEEEEEEEEP!

"Christopher, it's Mom. I'd like to see you before I go home next weekend. Call me at your brother's house. I love you, goodbye."

BEEEEEEEEEP!

"Hey, Criss, it's George. That (bleeper) Alvin what's-his-name just filed a wrongful injury lawsuit against me! I need your help like right now! Call me when you get this message."

Criss stiffened in shock. "That (bleep)hole's suing George?" he said aloud in disbelief.

He snatched the receiver and punched George's phone number. "We should be suing him instead! He's the one who's the offender, not George!" he fumed.

Criss drummed his fingers on the desk impatiently while he waited for his cousin to pick up. "The (bleeping) nerve of that guy!" he muttered angrily. "Goes around flashing Mom and--"

"Hello?"

"Hello, George? Criss."

"Oh, hey, Criss."

"Hey. Yeah, I got your message. Look, don't worry about Alvin the flasher, okay? He ain't got a leg to stand on. He's in too deep to go suing you for anything. If we have to, we can countersue on Mom's behalf for emotional damage or something. Either way, Alvin's going down!"

"Thanks, Criss."

"No prob. Later."

Criss hung up the phone, confident that the matter had been all but settled. He returned his mother's call, arranging for lunch on Friday noontime, then called Dave to explain his motives on Larry King (Sorry, Dave, but family comes first, he said to himself) then to confirm the time for tomorrow's production meeting. He looked forward to seeing what Manny had done to his dad's pictures; he was confident he had done them justice.

Once he had taken care of his voicemail, Criss started on his written correspondence. He drew a stack of letters toward himself with the notice he had found on the office door when he came in. He casually opened it up, expecting some sort of bureaucratic formality from hotel management. What he actually found surprised him:

THE BODY AS THE TEMPLE OF THE LORD!!

Do you not know that the body is the temple of the HOLY SPIRIT?? To defile the flesh is to defile the LORD!! Do you not know that your body is a member of CHRIST? (1 Cor. 6:15). We were ALL MADE in the IMAGE and LIKENESS of GOD!! Why do you dishonor him by filthy acts and nakedness? GOD should be glorified, not the flesh!! The body is the temple of the HOLY SPIRIT within you, which you have from GOD! (1 Cor. 6:19). We were all conceived in sin in our mother's wombs, and born into this sinful world stained with the ORIGINAL SIN, but THE BLOOD OF JESUS has washed away all original sin!! For you were bought with a price; therefore glorify GOD in your body!! Be modest in your apparel, cover your shameful nakedness, and shun the fleshmongers who use the body for pleasure and profit! The body is meant not for fornication, but for the LORD, and the LORD for the body (1 Cor. 6:13).

Criss tossed this self-righteous diatribe into the wastebasket without bothering to read the rest of it. While he agreed that the body was a temple, metaphorically speaking, there was no need to treat it like it was something to be ashamed of. As for the part of being "conceived in sin", well, he didn't feel his conception was sinful in the least; if anything, he felt his parents had conceived him in love, not sin. Sometime in early 1967 his mother and father made love, and from his perspective he was the love they made, emerging nine months later from where he had grown to fruitition under his mother's heart. What was so evil about that?

He promptly dismissed the message from his mind. He had other, more pressing matters to attend to besides some overzealous nutcase's religious claptrap--George's wrongful injury case for one thing. This guy should have given that sermon to Alvin instead of me, he thought. He's the one who's been defiling the flesh, not me!

[Veritas]

It was a very quiet family dinner at the home of Costa Saranatakos that Friday evening. There was little if any conversation, and the usual brotherly banter was missing. Everyone was too emotionally drained from the events from the past two weeks to make an effort to speak. Only when dinner was finished did the family review what had happened to them.

"The Flasher's trial is two months from today," Dimitra announced to her sons and nephew, George. "I've been called in as a witness, so I will need to make arrangements for then."

"You're welcome to stay as long as you want, Mom," Costa offered. "You don't have to go home to New York and then jet back here for the trial."

"I know, honey," Dimitra said, "and I thank you, but I have to be there when they take down the fumigating tent from the house, then I have to clean everything up."

"Need help?" George offered. "I can come with you, help around the house, then go see Ma and the family."

Dimitra smiled. "That would be nice, George, thank you."

There was an awkward silence. In an effort to ease the tension, Costa offered to serve coffee, but everyone politely refused. Unable to stand it anymore, Criss turned to his mother and blurted "You still mad about the pictures, aren't you?"

Dimitra shook her head. "Mad? No, why should I be mad? Costa explained everything to me beforehand. I am angry about that man who stole them and put them on the computer, but I am not mad at you. Still, I wish you had been more...discreet about the way you handled it."

"What do you mean, 'discreet'?"

"I mean by not showing them on Larry King, that's all. It's good you came forward and told your side before it turned into a scandal, but you should have kept those photos locked away instead of showing them on television."

"I did that because I was being blackmailed," Criss argued. "Besides, people had probably seen them before I went on Larry King. And I've been nude on TV before: on the Fantasy episode and the Jail Escape. Why should you get all upset about it? I mean, it's my body and I'm proud of it. I don't go around flashing it like Alvin Zubrowski, granted, but I don't feel I should be ashamed of it, either. You've seen me naked, right? Why get all bugged about it?"

She smiled and took her famous son's face into her soft, withered hands. "Because I did not raise my son to be a centerfold," she said.

Criss could not help but laugh at that. He kissed her hands and laid them on her lap. "You know I wouldn't do anything to embarrass you," he assured her. "Okay, maybe I did in the past, but I would never do anything to bring shame upon you or the family."

"So, no more nude pictures?"

Criss smiled. "No more nude pictures," he vowed. "At least nothing that will end up on the Web. I mean, I can't help it if someone sneaks in and snaps a picture of me when I'm in the shower or something. It's the price of fame."

"So, lock the bathroom door next time."

"Oh, gee," Criss replied with a hint of sarcasm, "why didn't I think of that before? There's no door to lock in the gym locker room, Mom--it's completely open."

"You should get one installed, then." Dimitra suggested.

Criss sighed. Costa leaned over to Criss. "Maybe you should," he concurred. "After what happened with Kevin, anyone can sneak in and take a picture of you without your clothes on."

Criss pondered the matter. "I'll talk to Felix about it," he said. "Maybe we can arrange something."

Dimitra nodded in approval. "Good. Then that's all settled. As far as I'm concerned, the matter is over and done with."

"I hope so, Mom," Criss said, concealing his doubt, "I really hope so."

George spoke up. "Look, Criss, you're not the only celebrity who has a bunch of dirty pictures made public," he said.

"They're not 'dirty pictures'!" Costa protested. "They were for a private portfolio I was working on. They were very tastefully and carefully made! You wanna see?"

He got up to fetch his portfolio, but his mother held up her hands to stop him. "Please, Costa," she said pleadingly. "We've had enough about nude pictures and all that. I am sure you made some very beautiful photos, but let's drop the matter. Please?"

Costa sat down again. "Okay," he concurred, "but they're not 'dirty' or anything. I'm not a pornographer."

"We know you aren't, Cos," Criss said. "Nudity is like beauty: it's in the eye of the beholder. Some people will see it as art, others as an abomination. You know, I got this tract from some religious zealot who claims the body is a temple of the Lord, and we were all conceived in original sin and all that. Well, I agree with the temple part, but the body is not sinful. Adam and Eve were naked in the Garden of Eden, and they didn't care until they ate the apple and got kicked out. I"m all for dressing modestly, if it prevents people like Alvin Zubrowski from traumatizing women and kids by exposing himself in public, but not to the point of being ashamed of our God-given bodies. If we became more comfortable in our own skins, maybe we can become more comfortable with others' skins as well."

"That's a very beautiful speech, Christopher," Dimitra said. "As you said, the body is a temple of God. And you must tend to that 'temple' of yours, keep it healthy and in perfect shape, for God gave it to you to use, not abuse. I don't mean drugs or alcohol--I know you don't do anything like that, and I am proud of you for it--I mean the stunts you do on your show. You've been burned, impaled, gashed and Lord knows what else you've done to yourself over the years! Someday you are going to kill yourself doing them, or injure yourself permanantly."

She stroked Criss' face tenderly "Don't destroy the 'temple' of your body for the sake of your art, Christopher," she said softly. "God has a better use for it."

Impulsively, Criss reached over and embraced his beloved mother. "I love you, Mom," he murmured.

"I love you, too, honey," Dimitra murmured back.

"I love you more."

Mother and son released each other. "I have to go now," Criss reminded her. "I got a live show tonight."

"I know."

Criss rose to leave. "Thanks for dinner, Cos," he said. "It was great."

Dimitra rose with him. "You have a good show tonight, honey," she said. "But promise me one thing before you go."

"Sure, Ma."

"From now on, when you have your picture taken," she admonished, "you keep your clothes on."

[Veritas]

Despite their collaboration in the case of the Criss Angel photos, it was Alvin who was saddled with most of the blame. On top of his previous charges of indecent exposure and CSA against a minor, he was also charged with burglary, blackmail and conspiracy. Kevin was simply charged with conspiracy and possession of stolen goods. His union had summarily expelled him from their ranks for his actions with no compensation. Out of work and out of money, Kevin was reduced to living with his parents somewhere in Reno and working for minimum wage at a local fast-food joint.

Criss did not litigate against Kevin once he learned of his reduced circumstances. Suing a poor person was unjust and unreasonable, he told his manager Dave Baram; he felt losing a lucrative position as a cameraman was punishment enough for Kevin. Besides, suing him would not delete the photos on the Web, he said. What was done was done, and there was nothing he nor anyone else could do about it but get on with their lives as best they could.

Criss' public statement about the nude photos on Larry King Live made for bawdy late-night humor on cable television, but the novelty wore off quickly, as all celebrity scandals do. The photos themselves were still on the Web, but only the most die-hard, obsessive Loyals sought them out, even going so far as to log onto xferret.com to see them. The infamous adult site was denounced by righteously indignant Loyals, outraged that images of their beloved idol was shamelessly exhibited in such a manner on such a sordid forum, but secretly they could not help but be tittillated by the thought of a completely nude Criss Angel, uncut, uncensored and unedited. Those who tried to post downloaded images from the site on the fanboards, however, were quickly reprimanded by moderators and the images quickly deleted.

There was still the matter of the wrongful injury suit against George Strumpolis, however. Alvin was demanding one million dollars, far in excess for just a broken nose. George didn't want to settle for any amount, given the circumstances of why he punched Alvin in the first place, but he didn't feel like going to court, either. His attorney, on the other hand, had a better strategy: "Go through with the case in court," he advised. "With all the charges against Zubrowski, including flashing himself in front of your aunt, we'll have a chance to humiliate him all over again, like we did during the plea bargain. True, you might have to pay some sort of damages, but it'll be far less than what he's asking. If we're lucky, you could get off without shelling out a dime."

"Is there any way we can countersue against Alvin for traumatizing my Aunt Dimitra?" George asked.

"I'll see what I can do," his lawyer promised. "Either way, Zubrowski's dead meat as far as the legal system is concerned. Exposing himself to a minor alone is really gonna send him up the river--we can use that against him, too. With the right spin, you'll come out of this smelling like a rose. So, do we have a deal?"

"We have a deal," George agreed, and the case of Zubrowski v. Strumpolis was scheduled for the end of September in the Clark County Circuit Court.





It is said that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Unfortunatly for Criss Angel, what happens to him in Vegas makes its way all over the world via the World Wide Web, and Cousin George's wrongful injury suit was no exception; a tiny press leak from somewhere deep in the recesses of MindFreak Productions made its way into cyberspace, causing a flood of outraged responses from Loyals everywhere:

The Loyal Community > General Discussion > Cousin George IS GETTING SUED!!
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Veritas: George Stumpolis is being sued by Alvin Zubrowski, aka the Vegas Flasher, for wrongful injury. George broke Alvin's nose when he flashed Dimitra at the Exclaibur after the quarterfinals of the boxing match held there. Zubrowski is demanding one million dollars in damages for his injury, emotional damage, and criminal assault. George wants to countersue Alvin for his attack on his aunt Dimitra. George got suspended from the boxing match for his assault on Zubrowski, adding insult to injury, so to speak. They didn't say when the case will be heard.
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KrisLee: If Alvin wants to keep his nose on his face, he'd better back off!!
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OU812: What a lot of nerve that has to sue George!! If that did that to my mom or anyone I love, I would have done the same thing!!
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rachel1219: George will win he has to he's a hero to finally cpature thast flasher the police were looking for that guy, remember?
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Greekgoddess: No way will Alvin Z win this one!
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BlueSkye: I agree george is in the right here alvin's going down
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vampireloyal: we are with you Cousin George!! We're with you all the way!!!
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LoyalCaitlin: Does anyone know when the trial will be? I wanna be there when it happens.
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ModeratorStu: The trial is a closed session, so no one will be allowed inside.
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Veritas: I'll say this, though--closed or not, it's gonna be a media circus!
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[Veritas]

The case of Zubrowski v. Strumpolis proved to be more of a sideshow than a media circus when it came to court. The videotape from the Excalibur after the boxing match was shown to judge, counsel, and parties alike, along with those in the galleries awaiting their turn for His Honor to hear their cases next. Those few people present struggled valiently to keep their nervous embarrassment in check to preserve the dignity of the court, but a few giggles and chuckles escaped anyway, earning an admonishing rap of the gavel from the bench.

Alvin sat glumly in his seat while his attorney pleaded his case. His nose was still bandaged even though it had completely healed, a feeble effort to gain sympathy from the court. Despite his attorney's best efforts to curry favor for Alvin by pleading partial insanity due to his "uncontrollable compulsion" to expose himself, the judge did not look too kindly on the notorious Vegas Flasher. He was not amused by Alvin's antics on the screen, nor was he taken in by the bandage on his nose. Nor was he sympathetic to his attorney's pleas for clemency; the judge called Alvin's behavior "egregious", "inexcusable", and "an outrage against public decency".

His Honor listened gravely as George's attorney reminded the court that Alvin was already charged with sixteen counts of indecent exposure, and that one of his victims had been a fifteen-year-old girl who had been with her grandmother. His last victim, Dimitra Sarantakos (he enunciated every syllable carefully), age seventy-four, was his client's aunt who had been staying in Las Vegas with her son for a couple of weeks, and had attended her nephew's boxing match that evening. When his client saw Zubrowski expose himself to the elderly woman, he did what any other man would have done under the circumstances: he took action. What Zubrowski had done was a criminal sexual act, and his client defended his aunt from his assault. Yes, Zubrowski sustained a broken nose from it--his client was an amateur boxer, after all--but in the end, he had been on the police wanted list for weeks, and he had been arrested and taken into custody that evening. If George Strumpolis had not taken action when he did, the Flasher would still be at large, the attorney claimed. Why should a person who defended his aged relative be forced to pay for his heroism?

George defended his action against Alvin on the witness stand with all the vigor of a boxer in the ring. "That guy flashed my aunt!" he stormed. "Nobody does that to my aunt, or any other relative I got! What if he'd given her a heart attack? She had surgery a few years back, you know--she's lucky she didn't have a relapse! It's a wonder he didn't kill her, flashing that ugly body of his! He's lucky he got off with just a broken nose! If the cops hadn't shown up when they did, I probably would have broken his neck, too! I'll be glad when he goes to jail for those sixteen counts of indecent exposure--pervs like him should be locked up!"

Alvin's pleas for clemency and recompense were piteous to the point of nausea. "I can't help it!" he wailed. "I can't control what I do! I didn't hurt no one, really! But that (bleeper) over there--" he pointed at George "--broke my nose! I'm disfigured for life because of what he did to me! It wasn't defense of any kind--it was assault and battery, I tell ya! I'm an American citizen, ain't I? Don't I have rights, too? I've been suffering ever since that (bleeper) attacked me! I got mental problems, Yer Honor! Why should I be penalized over something I can't control?"

George rolled his eyes. Oh, cry me a (bleeping) river! he groaned inwardly.

After this shining example of well-reasoned legal defense, the judge rendered his verdict: No judgement against the defendant, plaintiff charged with court costs. George was, however, given a formal warning to restrain his anger in the future, and, like the magistrate at the plea bargaining, advised to confine his boxing skills inside the ring from now on. "I can see you are not a violent man by nature, Mr. Strumpolis," His Honor said, "and your defense of your elderly aunt is in itself justified. You could have simply restrained Mr. Zubrowski until the police arrived instead of striking him. Let us hope this will prove to be an isolated case."

George smiled, thanked the judge politely, and sat down. He wanted to leave, but the court had not been officially dismissed, so he waited patiently until the judge gave his final statement to the plaintiff. Upon later reflection, he was glad he did.

"Mr. Zubrowski," His Honor intoned with a voice like doom itself. "In light of the charges against you already, you deserve no compensation whatsoever."

The judge leaned forward from the bench, his face livid. "It's bad enough you've caused such outrage in the city with your sordid antics," he thundered. "Now you have the temerity to come before the court and claim you have 'no control' over your actions! In my opinion, you were fully aware and fully responsible for your behavior. You chose to expose yourself to Mr. Strumpolis's elderly aunt, just as you chose to expose yourself to a minor child and over a dozen other women as well. Your only 'mental problem' is immaturity, Mr. Zubrowski--immaturity and lack of self-control. I cannot judge you for your other crimes here in this courtroom, of course--one of my collegues will have the honor of doing that--but I do roundly condemn your past actions. Yes, Mr. Strumpolis did break your nose that night: I do not justify violence, but I do justify defense of a relative. And as for your claim of 'pain and suffering', well, think of the emotional suffering you caused your victims by traumatizing them the way you did, especially in the case of that fifteen-year-old girl to whom you chose to expose yourself. And you claim you deserve recompense? It's society who should be compensated by you, Mr. Zubrowski, for the shame and outrage you committed against it! Think upon that when you go to trial for your crimes."

The judge bought down the gavel with a bang as loud as a pistol-shot. "This case is dismissed!" he announced.

George rose to leave. He fought the urge to flip Alvin the bird, being in a courtroom and all; he simply turned to his lawyer. "Way to go, Tom," he said, shaking the attorney's hand gleefully. "You really delivered like you promised."

Tom shrugged modestly. "Hey, I do what I can to come through for my clients," he said. "Besides, with Alvin's record, even a lawyer fresh out of law school would have won this one."

"You think Alvin will appeal?"

"Him?" Tom scoffed. "After paying court costs, Alvin Zubrowski's case is dead in the water! His next stop is state prison."

George gloated at the thought of Alvin behind bars. "I'd hate to think what will happen if he tries to flash anybody in prison," he mused.

His attorney held up his hand, appalled. "Please, George," he said, blanching, "let's not go there!"

[Veritas]

Six months in jail. That was all Kevin Smythe got for conspiracy and possession of stolen goods. During his arrangment hearing, he realized the odds were stacked against him due to the evidence presented to the court, so he had plea bargained for six months in exchange for a guilty plea, and to testify against Alvin Zubrowski. It was better than the two-year stretch he was facing if he had pleaded not guilty, he reasoned. He wasn't looking forward to spending time in jail, of course, but he could easily blow off a six-month sentence, no problem, especially when he became eligible for parole in eight weeks. In spite of his loss of freedom, Kevin still felt vindicated: The photos he had posted were still online for everybody to see, guaranteed to embarrass Criss Angel forever. In spite of everything, he got his revenge.

He would not have felt so smug had he known that in the wake of the photo scandal, the FCC was cracking down on the World Wide Web to "monitor" (read: censor) any photographs showing full frontal nudity on their sites, especially ones frequented by the eighteen and younger crowd. YouTube, Yuku, and other websites were required by federal law to delete any "inappropriate" material from their boards if minors logged onto them on a regular basis, or at least blur or pixel out any sexual organs or naked breasts. Adult sites such as xferret.com were required to toughen their log-in procedures to prevent anyone under twenty-one from downloading their material. Kevin would also have been disappointed to learn that due to the overwhelming number of amateur submissions to xferret every day, the Criss Angel photos were all but lost forever in the deep depths of cyberspace...





When Criss heard the news about Kevin's sentencing, he was both relieved and aggravated: relieved that he had been spared the indignity of testifying, aggravated that the sentence was so light for someone who had nearly ruined his career. He had been in the gym for his daily workout, watching the television bracketed onto the ceiling while he sweated away on the treadmill, when he caught the one-minute report about it. The stew of emotions he felt about it faded as quickly as the segment on the news. Kevin was smart to plead guilty, he thought as he trotted away on the treadmill. Guess he finally decided to grow up after all. I'd still like to kill him, though. At least it didn't blow up into a national scandal like the Tommy Lee/Pamela Anderson videotapes, a fact for which he thanked God in deepest gratitude.




Another thing for which Criss could thank his Maker was that he didn't have to testify at Alvin Zubrowski's trial for indecent exposure. Unfortunatly, his beloved mother did, as well as his brother, JD and his cousin, George. As much as Criss wanted to be there, if only to lend moral support, his other commitments prevented him from going to court that day. Costa promised he would be there on the day of the trial to assist in any way he could. Besides, it was his photographs Alvin had stolen from the editing studio, he claimed; he had to be there to identify them before the jury.

"If you were there, Criss," JD had said when he received the summons to appear in court for the case of The State of Nevada v. Zubrowski, "you'd have the press down there so fast, it'd be chaos."

Criss, for once, decided to exercise prudence and discretion by not even commenting on the trial, let alone showing up in court. He'd been embarrassed enough by that pervert Alvin, who not only committed the unforgivable sin of exposing his repulsively naked body to his dear, sweet mother, but had also conspired to ruin his career by stealing Costa's photographs from the editing room and having them posted on the Web. To go to the trial would only add fuel to the fire that he had struggled to put out two months ago.

[Veritas]

Criss Angel: MindFreak Wed. Oct. **, 10:00 PM EST. A&E

Sports: Criss goes one on one with his cousin in the boxing ring, works out and works magic in the gym.

Opening seqence: "I've always stressed Mind, Body and Spirit working together in harmony. Today, I show the power of the Body, as I allow you inside my personal gym...

(cut to shot of Criss benchpressing)

"...take on my cousin, George, in the boxing ring..."

(cut to segment of Criss and George sparring in the ring)

"...and defy the laws of physics by passing through a solid concrete wall...in front of a live audience."

(cut to segment of Criss in gym) "You heard of Brut? (coughs) This is brutal!"

(cue MindFreak opening sequence, then cut to Criss in darkened studio)

Criss: "I have to confess, I hate working out, but with doing both a live show and a TV series, plus all the demonstrations I do, I have to be in top form."

(cut to menage of Criss' past demonstrations)

"To do the things I do, I have to train my body like an athlete, which means every morning I go to my personal gym and do an hour's workout."

(cut to Criss on the treadmill, shirtless and sweating)

"I do forty-five minutes of cardio, then another with weights..."

(cut to Criss benchpressing)

"...every muscle in my body gets a workout, from head to toe."

(cut to Criss on treadmill, panning slowly from head down to feet)

"It's exhausting, but in the end, it's worth it."

(cut to Criss on abdominal machine, crunching his abs) "AAARRRRGGGHH!"

JD: "Christopher's always been a bundle of energy since the day he learned to walk. Our family's always been active, whether it was throwing a football around in the backyard, or Little League, or whatever, but Chris was like non-stop. Whenever he wasn't pestering everyone to show off his latest magic trick, he was doing something completely crazy like ride his bike off the roof of the house and land in the bushes. He was nuts as a kid, and it only got worse when he got older. When people ask why he does the things he does, I tell them he'd been that way since he was a kid."

Criss: "My dad had always been an athlete..."

(cut to photograph of John Sarantakos from the past posing in trunks)

"...two-time Golden Gloves winner, Mr. Universe--he did it all, it seems. He wanted us to be the same way: healthy and physically fit."

(cut to family photo of three Sarantakos brothers ca. 1970s)

"We were never plunked down in front of the television set just to get us out of the way, but we were encouraged to go outside and play, get some exercise and fresh air."

(cut to Criss in darkened studio) "Sometimes I think he wanted us to make it to the Olympics, the way he stressed physical fitness and good health."

(cut to Criss' personal gym, where Criss performs illusion with a bottle of water).

(voiceover) "Next, Criss goes into the boxing ring..."

(cut to Criss in ring, sparring with cousin George, ending with his mouthing "help" into the camera)

"...then melts into solid concrete."

(cut to Criss concealing himself behind a tarp)

Criss: (whispers) "Are you ready?"

(Commercial break)

(Opening sequence to second part of MindFreak; cut to darkened studio)

Criss: "My cousin, George, has been taking up amateur boxing..."

(cut to menage of George sparring in the ring)

"...so I decided to go over to the gym and pay him a visit."

(cut to interior of Linehan's Gym, where Criss is standing in the foyer. Sounds of gloves striking punching bags and opponents)

Criss: (inhales deeply) "You heard of Brut?" (coughs and chokes) "This is brutal!" (walks over to George) "Hey, George, how's it going?"

George: "I'm good."

Criss: "George's sparring partner couldn't make it, and he needed the practice for the match at the Excalibur, so out of the goodness of my heart, I volunteered to be his sparring partner for the day."

(cut to Criss emerging out of locker room wearing boxing shorts and stockings) "So, how do I look?"

George: "Like Criss Angel in a pair of boxing shorts."

(Criss and George enter the gym, where Seamus Linehan is waiting)

George: "Well, what do you think?"

(Linehan inspects Criss by lifitng his arms, tapping his back with his cane, etc.)

Linehan: "Ye'll do. Yer up when this bout is over."

(cut to boxers in ring sparring, then cut back to Criss)

Criss: "I'm gonna die. I'm gonna get killed."

(Sparring session ends, Criss and George enter ring. Criss turns to camera and mouths "help", then turns to George. Referee explains rules, then give signal to begin round one. Criss and George spar, George flattens Criss. In round two, Criss comes back swinging, but wears himself out and is down for the count. He is hauled off by JD and George.)

George: "I think Criss has had enough for today."

(cut to Criss in darkened studio)

Criss: "That had to be the most...humiliating experience of my life, getting beaten up by George like that. Everyone knows how competitive I am, and how much I hate losing. I really thought I could take on George in the ring--after all, I had years of martial arts training."

JD: "I think Criss underestimated George, especially his right hook--I mean, that guy could bust through a brick wall with that arm of his!"

(cut to George taking a swing on the speed ball in the gym, sending it swinging as if to break off its hook)

George: "He's mad, I know he is. But, hey, I gotta tell ya, it felt good taking him down like that. Not so easy, was it, Criss? Huh? Huh?"

Criss: "You wait, George. We're gonna have a rematch. And I am going to kick your sorry ass all the way back to New York!"

(voiceover) "Next, can Criss walk through a solid cement wall?"

Criss: (whispers) "Are you ready?"

(Commercial break)

(Opening sequence to third part of MindFreak; cut to Criss in darkened studio)

Criss: "The laws of physics state that a solid cannot pass through a solid. I'm here to dispel that law...by passing through a solid, five-foot thick concrete wall."

(cut to shot of cheering fans outside, then to concrete wall five feet thick, seven feet high, ten feet wide)

Criss: "Okay, I need some volunteers from the audience to examine the wall here."

(cut to shot of some people walking up to the wall)

Criss: "You can see it's solid, totally solid. No trap doors, no cracks, nothing--just solid."

(Everyone agrees; Criss positions himself against one side of the wall)

Criss: "Raise the curtain!"

(Tarp goes up, concealing wall and Criss, his hands above the top edge of tarp)

Criss: "NOW!!"

(Hands vanish and appear on other side of wall; Tarp goes down, revealing Criss on other side; audience cheers)

Criss: "YEEEAAAAAHHH!"

(cue Mindfreak theme; camera pans audience for reaction; select persons give their views on illusion; cue credits; cut to scene of shirtless Criss working out on heavy bag, grunting with every blow)

Criss: "Uh! Uh!" (dances around bag) "C'mon, George! Think you're tougher than me? Uh! Uh! You're going down! Uh! Uh! Uh!"

(fade to black)

[LoyalSamy]

Vertias, I just want to tell you, I started reading this last night thanks to Loyal OC and I have to say you write REALLY well!! I love the detail you put into description! I feel inspired by it!!

[Veritas]

The Loyal Community > Loyal Written Art > Sports Episode
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rachel1289: Saw the Sports episode last night--the walking through the wall illusion was amazing!!! lol at Criss in the boxing ring with cousin George. and the gym scenes were hot hot hot!! __________________________________________________ ________________________

KrisLee: I agree. Criss was sweating so much I thought he'd dehydrate. Heck, I almost dehydrated myself watching him I almost cried when I saw those photos of his dad from his bodybuilding days. It's sad that such a strong man died of cancer like that.
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Greekgoddess: Daddy Angel was a hunk now I know where Criss gets it
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angelkiss23: If this doesn't inspire people to get some exercise I don't know what will.
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BlueSkye: loved the sports eppie, my favorite scenes were in the gym watching Criss work out. Sweat is so shmexy!! Was that where that cameraman took that video of Criss in the shower?
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rachel1289: ^^ probably. don't know what happened to that after that
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KrisLee: He probably got fired for it.
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RoseRed13: It would have been so cool if they did tape Criss taking a shower I would have loved to have seen it. Better yet I would have loved to have been there __________________________________________________ ________________________

BlueSkye: I would have loved to have been in the shower with Criss........uh, Skye, could you hand me the soap, please?
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Greekgoddess: In your dreams!
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The water from the shower hissed and spattered on porcelain tile and naked flesh. Criss rubbed himself from face to feet with a large bar of soap, coating his skin with a layer of white lather, then ducked under the stream to rinse off. Rivulets of soap and water cascaded down his torso, over his hips, down his legs and puddled at his feet to be washed away down the drain, carrying away the sweat generated from his daily workout. He had no time for luxuriating under the spray of warm water: he had a tight schedule, as usual, which limited his bathing time to three-minute "Navy showers", as one of his crewmembers called them: wet down, soap up, rinse off, get out.

Criss turned off the water, grabbed his towel, and was about to open the glass shower door when, suddenly, an eerie feeling of deja vu came over him. Somehow, the feeling that someone outside was waiting with a camera had crept over him. It was silly, but he just could not help feeling that he was being watched. As a precaution, he wrapped his towel around his waist and carefully stepped out of the shower stall, looking around for any sign of a camcorder.

Nothing.

Feeling a bit foolish, Criss dried himself with the towel and headed for the booth to dress for the day. Maybe I should take Mom's advice and have that door installed, he thought. And put a lock on it as well. You know, just in case.

He pulled on his CK briefs, his frayed jeans, his grey t-shirt, his jock socks and combat boots, and tied a black and white bandana around his head. Decently dressed, he headed for his suite to meet with his producers and consultants for the next episode of his show. He had some great ideas for new demonstrations, though he knew his brothers would object--

Wait a minute, he thought. JD and Costa would not be in the meeting today. Nor would George, for that matter. Today was the trial of the Vegas Flasher, and all three of them had to testify against him. Come to think of it, his mother would be there, too, as one of the victims. He would be a bit short-handed today, but if it meant getting that pervert off the streets, it would be worth it.

Too bad I can't be there to see them rake old Alvin over the coals, he thought regretfully, but I got more important things to do. Maybe later I can catch it on the news or something. It's no big deal.