Honesty Is Not Contagious
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Barker

7/5/2013

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Ladies and gentlemen.  Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention puh-leeze.  Be so kind as to direct your eyes to me.  Don't be shy.  I'm used to being stared at, thanks to the Kaiser.  Not to be lewd, but they didn't get the largest part of me, if you know what I'm saying; and I think this little lady does.  Yes, indeed, eyes to me or even just your ears if you want to find out about the single most spectacular beyond reason once in a life time -- aw hell, you're intelligent people, you get the idea.  
 
Behind me is a tent, and in that tent is a variety of life's greatest -- I won't say oddities -- most unique specimens.  Some of which I doubt can be classified as human.  No, no this isn't a sham like the man eating chicken.  I can tell by your face sir you know what I'm talking about.  A crowd is drawn in to witness a chicken eat a man, but word trickery has bamboozled you.  Instead of bestial poultry devouring a man, you see some fatass stuffing his gob with roast chicken.  I won't lie. It's a fun stunt, but such things only ruin the odds of you believing me when I say in this tent are things you have never seen though, perhaps, always wanted to.  
 
Some are beautiful beyond compare, and some will give you nightmares to haunt the rest of your days.  Yes, indeed, these are sights for the thrill seekers only.  The daring!  Because after going in here your life will be changed forever.  Ruined! in fact.  I used to love a woman.  Once upon a time... but after seeing some of the lovely creatures in here my sense of beauty has been ruined.  Inside is a being that makes everything ugly by comparison.  And I rarely sleep.  Such are the terrors lurking within.  
  
Do you have the fortitude to witness all this?  I'm sure you like to think you do.  But I'm not here to sell you anything.  No sir.  No ma'am.  I'm standing here to tell you not to go inside.  Do not come in.  You'll only be paying for your ruination.  Oh you might survive, but you'll emerge damaged, broken people.  I'm sure some of you thought otherwise, thought I'm a salesman.  I understand.  Most carnie folk aren't inclined to spare a man the loss of a dime.  Why shouldn't I profit by your devastation?  I have a family.  Two small children to feed.  But it's because of them I can't do it.  I can't just let you people walk in their thinking, "It'll be fine.  There's no real danger in there."  Perhaps not to your person but to your mind, I assure you, there is real danger.  Real danger. I would be damning myself to Hell if I simply let you fine people walk inside.  
 
Grown men in the prime of life have walked into this very tent only to come out twitching shattered wretches.  I have seen good God fearing people go mad and have to be carried out, foaming at the mouth -- their minds gone.  And if you'll pardon me ladies, I know of men who went inside and came out unable to perform the sex act ever again.  Fortunately, I'm not one of them, and with any luck none of you men will be either, but the risk is there.  You all need to know the risks.  Fortes fortuna adiuvant, yet risk and ruin also run hand in hand.  

A real live Ifrit, that's a creature made of fire for those who don't know.  A mermaid.  Two -- count 'em -- two feathered serpents from South America.  What may be the last Siren.  A Blemmye... What's a Blemmye?  Well, I'm glad you asked.  It's an 8 foot tall creature, looks like a man with no head.  It's face is in its chest and a great gaping mouth is spread across the stomach.  Marco Polo himself recounted seeing Blemmyes herding corpses in India, and we've got one.  And that's only for starters.  
 
There's more inside, each more worse for you then the last.  But please, I'm warning you, don't go inside.  
 
#
 
"You!"

"Easy son."
 
"You sonuva... a bitch.  I..."
 
"Here now. Take a sip of this.  I know what you're feeling."
 
"You couldn't...  how could you... let us in?"
 
"Hey, kid, it's not my fault.  I told not to go in there."
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    J. Rohr enjoys making orphans feel at home in ovens and fashioning historical re-enactments out of dead pets collected from neighbors’ backyards.

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