"Greasepaint"

Every clown has a face, and every good face tells a story. It's more than just a big, red nose and greasepaint. It's about creating a unique character. Like any other act, it's all in the presentation. That's what separates the professions jokers for the birthday party bozos.

The clothes, the comedic style, even the act itself all hinges on the face. It's a product to be sold. If the suit makes the man, then the paint makes the clown.

But the clown has to believe in it too. He or she must embrace the face and become one with the character. I am Deadeye the Daring with or without my paint. The makeup only allows the Juggling Jester to surface and give the people a show.

Without my paint, I am nothing more than a deformed madman. Crippled before I was born by the stroke I suffered while still in the womb. My left side is weakened, the muscles of my face drooping obscenely. I am blind on that side as well, and my left eye rolls wildly beneath the lid that never fully closes. Psychiatrists have diagnosed me as insane. The state has institutionalized me eight times.

Without my pain, I am social pariah. With it, I am a star.

"Ferris Wheel"

Smiling faces walk the midway, oblivious to the sinister origins of a carnivals attractions. It is a place of madness and mayhem, disguised by brightly colored paint and pretty lights. Many of the rides are based on ancient torture devices. The games once had much higher stakes. I suppose ignorance really is bliss. It would certainly dampen the mood if people knew the truth.

Take the ride I operate, for example. Seems innocent enough. A big wheel, with seats that hang from crossbars. The wheel turns and the chairs go up, then they come down again. Great fun. But, did you know it comes from an interrogation tactic used right up until the mid-1800's? It's true. They used to strap the person being questioned to a rotating wheel, the base of which was under water. The wheel cranked until the victim was fully submerged. Then they were left there to thrash against their bonds for anywhere from 30 seconds to a full 2 minutes. Just before they drowned, the wheel was cranked again, bringing the subject back up for more questioning. If the answers weren't satisfactory...Down they went again.

The process was repeated again and again until the questioners were satisfied, or until the subject was dead, whichever came first. Fun fact huh?

Still want to ride? Got your ticket? Then step on up, you're the next in line.

"Erotica"

Size matters. Don't let anyone tell you differently. That's not to say that bigger is necessarily better, but it definitely has to be hearty enough to fill me up. I'm like Goldilocks. I want something that's just right. If it's too big I just can't handle it. Too small...well, take the other night for example. This guy come to my trailer with something that was barely a mouthful. It left me so unsatisfied I couldn't sleep. I was up all night tossing and turning.

I will say this, though, if the person really knows what they're doing I can make an exception. Like last night...Oh, it makes my knees weak just thinking about it!

I had this girl come over to take care of me. I don't usually swing that way, but she came highly recommended. She was well worth it too. Fulfilling my every desire right up to the big finish. What she did with whipped cream and syrup should be criminal.

Oh my, I'm getting all flustered. Maybe I'll call her up just one more time before we leave. I could do that now, just to see what kind of breakfast menu she puts together. Cooks like her don't come around often and my appetite demands the best. How do you think I keep up that voluptuous, thousand pound figure? Good food and a passion for eating.

"Dummy"

"You know what the difference is between a ventriloquist and his dummy? One is the brains of the operation, the other tries to talk without moving his mouth...Ha!"

The tuxedoed puppet known as Bucky clutched his sides as he cackeled maniacally at his own joke. He sat in a tiny chair, built to a scale that suited him, rocking back on two legs. Next to him, hundched uncomfortably in the small trailer, was the massive form of Edgar, who by standards was considered a giant. His abnormal proportions were all the more apparent when compared to his fellow carny, especially in the cramped space they currently occupied.

"Oh, boy...Max is so easy...Just like his sister! Ha-Ha!" Bucky nearly toppled over as a new stream of laughter came belting out.

Edgar grunted, and shook his head.

"Why are you always so hard on him, Buck?" The giant asked.

The puppet gestured, as if dismissing the question.

"Max is a moron! He thinks he can just treat me like some run-of-the-mill blockhead...I mean, c'mon, look at me!" The doll jumped to his feet and twirled around, showing off his two-foot frame. "I sing, I dance, I write all of the jokes for our act. He would be nothing but a barker if it wasn't for me!"

"So why do you stick with him? Why not get your own act?"

Bucky sat back down and thought for a minute before responding, "I would, but truth is, if it wasn't for Max, I woudl still be locked in a trunk dryrotting, so I guess I owe him for gettin' me out."

He paused, before continuing, "But as soon as I feel that debt is paid, I'm gone. No strings attached."

Bucky nodded, as if agreeing with himself. Edgar nodded too, but was more because he was sleepy than agreeing with the Dummy.

"So, did you hear how the ventriloquist died? Somebody stuck a scratch-and-sniff sticker on the bottom of the pool! Ha...."