Hell's Circus (A Closed Thread)

[PollySays]

A closed thread for LitShark.​

Gardner, Kansas. 1947.

Her Daddy always said she was a pretty thing. Told her she has the looks of her Momma. Told her someday, she'd make a pretty little wife and a pretty little Momma of her own.

Daddy sure talked nice when he didn't have the booze.

When he had it, the words weren't so nice. He talked with his fists over his mouth, and he was surely talkative at those points. His hands had many a lecture on her face, on her body. Left her a crying thing in the corner of her room, wondering what it was that she did to get it.

She missed her Momma something fierce. Everyone praised her Daddy as such a brave man, such a proud man, raising a girl like her on his own. He would talk about how it could be lonely. How he missed so many things they used to do together.

Some things, he didn't miss too much anymore. Marie was used to relive them.

Ideas would come to her head. Maybe I can join Momma. Wouldn't be too hard. Maybe I can find myself a man. Be that pretty little wife. Maybe I can just run away forever.

Marie liked that last one pretty nicely. Run away forever. Going to Momma seemed a rather final choice. Marie liked too many things here. Daddy made it hard to remember that, but she had her fair share of things to miss. And didn't Father Ganigan say that suicide was a sin? That meant no Momma. Marie didn't want to be left to the pits of Hell. Daddy reminded her of the Commandments every time. Honor thy father. Commandments of Daddy. Shut your pretty little mouth.

She had heard of kids running away to join the circus. Escape the life they hated so much to become someone who had no rules, no worries. Simply be a happy face, make others smile. Now why wouldn't something like that be appealing? Marie liked to smile. She liked to see others smile. Hard to do that with a bruising eye. A broken finger. Others didn't smile at things like that. They acted like they didn't even see you.

Surini Brother's Circus. A pretty poster, spread across the grocer's window. Marie had stared at it the whole time Daddy talked to Mister Moore, awed by the vibrant colors promising a weekend of events beyond that of the wildest imaginations. Events too amazing to be real, it screamed in the brightest of blues. Feats to remember for a lifetime.

Why just remember? Marie wanted to experience them forever. A clown's smiling face had to be a better sight than her Daddy's leer every morning.

She begged his permission to go to the show with her friends, waiting until the alcohol purchased had left the man in that nightly haze. Daddy's bedtime ritual. Agreement. Leaving Daddy to pass out in his chair, she returned to her room, planning her escape. Daddy was a good man, when he wanted to be. But the drinks made him so hard to live with. The beatings, worse. The fondlings, pure hell. And what came after. Marie refused to let stay in her head.

------**--------

The tent was huge, so much bigger than she imagined, as she and her friends made their way to the fairgrounds. A billowing cloud of yellow and red, waving in the breeze with its flags and streamers, calling everyone to come and see. Marie was actually enjoying herself among this, two friends joining her with smiles of their own, a trio of girls set upon spending a day in laughter.

One with intentions of staying.

That tent was the main attraction, but it's surroundings were full of acts of its own, vendors calling out foods and trinkets. Smaller shows vying for attention, promises of the unique and the strange, sights one would never forget and even the most daring of minds would recall in shock. Certainly not things of Marie's interests. Why on Earth would anyone even want to view such horrific sights?

------------------------------------

Marie O'Hara Age 18

 

[LitShark]

Kinky the Clown

Kinky the Klown sighed at his reflection in the mirror, a mask of white paint and vibrant colors. He was working the crowd tonight, geeking them up at his own personal and physical expense. Kink preferred to be the one inflicting pain, as opposed to the one suffering it, he didn't crave pain like some of the others who traveled with the "Freak Pit", but he was the only one without a staged act. He'd get some attention at least, maybe even a nervous clap or two. At least that was something.

After pulling bright red suspenders up onto his tattooed shoulders, Kink stubbed out his Dominican cigar in the ashtray that sat atop his vanity. Time to bleed for his art, in other words- Wednesday. Kink stashed the small, black, plastic tube of serilized needles that he used for piercing stunts inside the pockets of his purple sequined pants and made his way into the Arcade, still shirtless under his suspenders.

Kink had Caller duties as well. Shock and awe. The only rule of the Pit Freaks.

Most of these down-South hicks wanted no part of a Freak Show tent, but Kink was determined to give them an eyefull anyway as they hurried away from the black, square, vinyl tent. It didn't stop kink from shaking his halved tongue between his fingers at the horrified MILF's, or teaching toddlers foul language to repeat for hours, or even leaning in to a stroller with his bare chest and piercing his nipple with one of those needles right in front of a six month old baby's face. Shock and Awe, that was the act. The baby had laughed at his display, even if the mother had slapped him. It was his first laugh of the night, a fair trade.

Innocence was overrated anyway, fuck the innocent.

That display in front of the infant must have won the clown some dark karma, because as soon as he'd removed and disguarded the needle and sterilized the wound, a crowd of tittering teen-aged bitch flesh wrapped in tight and stylish clothing. Maybe it wouldn't be such a tough night afterall. Kink knew exactly which bit he was going to run on these girls, he'd get their attention alright.

"Hello, hello beautiful ladies. Welcome to the back lot, the Carnival's ghetto. You're looking for something, I can tell. Clowns can always tell." Kink smiled, moving uncomfotably close to the blond with expressive blue eyes, invading her personal space until his bare chest ever so gently pressed against the robust neckline of her dress. "You're looking for something that you've never seen before, so you can't know what it is. But Kinky knows, oh yes, he knows. A clown always knows."

At that, Kink did a back handspring away from the girls- easy enough for him, claiming space in the middle of the walkway with his landing that wrought a startled gasp out of someone in the crowd. Suddenly he had created an arena, a spherical bottle neck in the flow of bodies where those he had almost crashed into in midair had stepped back to make room. At last, he had an audience. Showtime.

"Gather round, come and see! Come and See! Witness the limitless marvels of the human body." Kink announced in his best Caller Voice, tipping an empty wooden crate on it's side with one of his wing-tip shoes to stand above the gathering mass. He held one of the needles up to show the crowd, deftly threading a thick, black string through the eye and tying it off with a flourish. "Feast your eyes upon I: The Amateur Ventriloquist."

With that, Kinky slid the needle under his top lip and pierced the needle into the inside of his lip, the flesh stretching and quickly tenting undernieth as the needle passed through the flesh, sending a rush of iron tasting blood back into the clown's mouth. A little squinting, a little grinding of teeth, and the shining point of the needle birthed forth from his lip, then began the agonizing, slow, ripping and aching passage of the long thread through flesh.

The pain was incredible, but it wasn't the first time he'd done this bit. The needle slipped in through the front of his bottom lip, using his teeth as a base to speed along now, it was just so much damn work passing the thread. Tears began to spill from his eyes as his crowd diminished by half and he missed his teeth with the needle, jabbing into his gums instead. Roughly sixty more seconds that felt like an hour, both to clown and audience and the hard part was over. Tie off the thread, cast the needle into the dirt and begin bit-

A tiny harlequin style hand puppet appeared from within the clown's pocket, porcelain face painted immaculately. Kink had never learned to move puppet mouths in time with words. Nonetheless Pierrot the Puppet began to speak in harsh falsetto.

"Finally! I thought that loudmouth asshole would never finish that bullshit!" Pierrot tittered, bouncing about and making obscene arm gestures. It was unconvincing to say the least, Kink's lips were moving and blood was dribbling down his chin. Another third of the audience took their leave. "I can see your lips moving dipshit! Damn this cocksucker is a talentless hack."

The puppet continued to rail against it's puppeteer, even going so far as to grab one leg behind his back and flick kick the place where Kink had tied off the thread. His bare torso was covered in sweat already, when from the other pocket, he produced Pierrette to come to his aid.

"You insecure motherfucker! Stop hitting the goddamn clown. He's the only reason you're alive now." Pierette insisted, grabbing at Pierrot's arm, only to be struck away by a backhanded slap.

"Shut your cum guzzling yap- you trough faced cunt bitch! This piece of shit is ruining our reputation with this bullshit."

"We just need to find him an ending, Deus Ex Machina!"

With the magic words uttered, fingers snapped on both hands. The puppets vanished into small puffs of smoke. In the hand that was formerly Pierette, Kink held a pair of polished metal scissors, cutting the threads in one smooth squeeze before taking his bow. Treating a mixed reaction as praise was another tool of the trade.

 

[PollySays]

"To the tent, to the main tent," Amanda continued to chant, clutching against Marie and Anna's hands as they worked their way through the crowds. Something had caught the eyes of people beside them as they passed that Freak Show tent, Marie intending not to peek but finding it near impossible as the shrieks and sounds echoed against her ears. A man looked at them, painted and grinning, a trickle of blood coming form his chest as he approached. Her eyes widened, grasping even tighter to Amanda and nodding.

"Yes, inside! We should get inside!"

The scary clown was upon them now, pushing up, blocking their way while greeting them and sending a shiver down Marie's spine. His words seemed to confuse Amanda and Anna, but Marie stared at him in awe. He must have caught this, pressing his way even closer to her, something that made her start to back away, held still by her friends' frightened grasps. Wide frightened eyes stared at the painted man, his bleeding act remains pushed against her dress.
He. He knew?
Just the way he said it.
The way he implied it.
Could he see her thoughts?

He was gone before she could say a word, her mouth drawing a sharp breath as he flipped away. Wild and impulsive. Random and reckless. No concern on the reactions of those around him, merely the need for attention. Marie couldn't take her eyes off the insanity before her.

Even as the needle came out. Her friends screamed in horror as it slipped into his lip, the initial trickle of blood that came with it making Marie wince, but her gaze refused to be broken. A horrified curiosity. Awed horror.

He moved so fast. Too fast for such an action. Reckless, as she had thought before. A thought proven, now. This. His tears welled, the crowd originally intrigued by a clown performing now disgusted by a freak on patrol. Marie felt the turn of her stomach with the sight before her, starting to turn her head. Trying hard to not stare.

Amanda was shaking against her, never one to handle even the slightest sight of blood. Anna had given up even looking, covering her eyes with her free hand and whimpering like a kicked pup. The only reason they stayed, stood in that spot, was the anchor that Marie had suddenly become from her frozen feet. Too curious to pull away. Too sickened to stare too long.

The blood came further as he tore at his makeshift stitching, words pouring out in high pitched tones as the red ran his chin. Marie was certain she had seen enough then, ripping her eyes away to look at the dirt, even this now stained with droplets of his efforts. She squealed in the same horrified disgust as her friends now, shaking her head and closing her eyes tightly as he continued with his act. His puppets berating him his insults and attacks, his performance marring his mouth.

She dared to steal a peek.
Horrific, simply horrific. A stomach-churning sight. Why, why, why would anyone even want to view such things as this? She realized for a brief moment the attraction. The same reason she couldn't look away at first.
They wanted that terror. The fear that came off it.
It sickened them even more because they wanted to see. See what a soul could do to itself for another's amusement.
And that was what this. Kink the Clown. Was doing. Depraved. Disgusting. Defiling.
Entertaining the Sick Minds.

Marie drew a sharp breath as the puppets vanished, the scissors used to free his lips. Watching as he grinned, the mess left behind, the dissipating crowds. Continuing to stare at him, she felt her friends grasp her hands even tighter, starting to pull her away.

If she did it. If she truly ran away. If she actually tried to be in this place.
No, not that. She would show them how flexible she was. How she could dance, how she could move, how she could sing, play, amuse. Certainly they would not place her amongst those. Him. That.

"You look ill, Marie. You shouldn't have watched that."
"The whole thing?"
"Not all of it," She confessed softly as they took their seats inside. "It was certainly a terrible sight to see."
"A man to do such a thing!" Amanda shook her head, waving her hand in the air. "Imagine the holes he's left upon his body! All the scars he's taken for such a deplorable thing!"

Marie ground her lips together, leaving them pure white as she tried to stay focused upon the show. This would not falter her in her plans. Frightening as it was, it would not keep her from her goal. Kink the Clown was scary in his show, but would never meet the levels of her father's frightening acts. She was certain of that.

 

[LitShark]

Kinky gave another formal bow to the mixed reaction, bending at the waist. When he came up again, the cluster of poodle skirt princesses had taken their leave. Waste of the good material. With the crowd thoroughly controlled, the shirtless, bleeding clown pushed his way into the Black Tent, swiftly parting curtains that led him back to his vanity. When he sat down, Kink beheld the horror his reckless enthusiasm for performance had made of his face. No wonder she- the golden ram, no wonder she had flown out of her fleece to be free of him.

"More matter for a May morning." Kink smirked at his reflection, slamming down a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels, his bloodied lips lightly spattering his painted reflection with a thin spatter of red as they came together to make "M" sounds.

After one long, deep swallow, Kink held a mouthful in to sterilize the mouth wounds. He swallowed again. Perhaps he ought to lose all the pretense and just be a full time drunk. Hard to afford booze without a gig though, hard to afford anything, playing to empty houses.

"Having a drink for a change?" The obnoxiously nasal voice of Randy Klein, the circus' General Business Manager. "You've already managed to scare off all the people who might have been interested, once again. I thought that young people were supposed to be your- What the hell?"

Kink had heard all he was interested in listening to from that coin-rubbing, shrill-voiced Shylock. He took another mouthful of booze and pressed his lips together, spraying the ruddy liquid out through the holes left by his previous performance.

"Perfect, just perfect. Now I don't even have to work hard to justify cutting your ass. In the meantime, get your real makeup back on. Time to do the staged show. Hurry up."

 

[PollySays]

The Ringmaster had taken center stage, the girls lining their seats as Amanda continued to eye the outer curtains with a hesitant stare. Marie knew what she was looking for; that clown, worries on the frightening show he had given making a secondary appearance in the main event. "There's kids out here now, Amanda," She noted softly, pointing to the set of twin boys playing at their father's feet across the steps. "There's no way they'd be lettin' him do that sort of thing with little ones eyes nearby."

Amanda gave her a thankful relieved smile with that, reassurance allowing her to settle a touch more comfortably into her seat. Marie herself, however, was not as calm. She kept the air of interest in the show about her, but the plans were rolling through her mind. How to do this. How to escape.

She would miss her friends, undoubtedly. But that wasn't going to hold her back.

Once the show got going. Once the girls were enthralled with some highwire feat, some amazing act of horses or poodles.
Once they were no longer watching her.

She would whisper her goodbye and sneak away.
She had seen the perfect spot, back by. Him. A shiver ran through her spine with the thought, but if it was somewhere the girls wouldn't dare tread, then she was safer still.

The lights changed. redirected, circling, then focused together on the extravagant man in the middle, barking out his greetings and the promises of what was to come.

Marie's nerves wavered more and more, shifting in her seat, clutching at her dress each time the lights changed. She couldn't keep to this any longer. If they noticed too far into it....

"I think we could all do with some popcorn," She hissed into Amanda's ear, getting a mere nod in response as her friend's eyes remained locked upon the man in the center ring. The show had done as she had hoped. Slipping up out of her seat, she stepped carefully around the dropped peanut shells and tossed corn kernels, making her way back out of the darkened tent and into the fairway once more.

It was far less noisy and crowded now, with everyone clambering into the tent for the big show. The sounds of performers waiting to enter, the noise of the animals stomping and tramping about in the hay, occasional trumpeting of elephants and braying horses the main sounds of the outdoors.

That black tent, settled away in the corner. There looked to be other carts near it, so all she needed to do was sneak into the main part of that spot. Make her way into a cart, burrow her way down into cloth or hay or something.

They would never even notice her. She was sure of it. Hide away, and then come out in the next town.

They couldn't send her away.

Wasn't that how it worked?

All the stories of those who ran away to join the circus.
They never said quite how they did it.

 

[LitShark]

Kink went through the motions of his clowning act without much regard for quality. He juggled, rode the unicycle, stuffed in with some number of others into a tiny, cramped, uncomfortable car. Some part of him felt degraded by furthering the steriotype associated with clowns, but he had to earn. This was what people came for.

Once it was done, the last segue sent along, Kink made his way quickly back to the makeup table to change his face. He spotted her in the mirror, past his own reflection, scampering out of the big top, looking guilty and scared beyond her right wits. The girl didn't seem to be the type to steal, what could be making her so flushed and distracted?

Kink watched as she came closer, looking to see if she'd be pursued and by whom. She seemed to be alone, like a lone angel fallen from grace. At the angle he was, Kink realized that she couldn't see him behind the dressing screen. He continued to apply the darker and more haunting makeup for his after hours show from memory, watching as the girl climbed into one of the carts that sat beside the Freak Tent.

A Stowaway.

What an interesting evening this was turning out to be. Lil Miss Blondie wasn't the first to try and steal away from their life using the circus for cover, nor would she likely be the last. Still, she was far more attractive than the average runaway, with a wealth of skills she'd scarcely imagined utilizing. Kink could imagine utilizing them. Moreover, he could imagine exploiting them, to the delight and awe of packed houses, night after night. He could imagine the owner, expanding the Freak Show arena, multiple rings, him kissing Kink's ass for a change. He imagined all of this while watching her nubile young body climbing into a cart of old costumes.

After she ceased her shuffling, Kink hesitated long enough to drain the last of his bottle. His face was repainted in the stylized, ominous pattern that he'd designed himself for the after-hours show.

Kink whistled jauntily as he made his way over to the wooden handcart where the girl had concealed herself. With only a light grunt, he lifted the cart onto it's wheels and began wheeling it toward the back of the tent, into the small cluster of unremarkable tents where the crew and performers had made camp.

"Sure is a shame, the poor folks." Kink said, loud enough to be heard clearly through the layers of cloth. "Smallpox ripped through the whole family, now we got to burn all their clothes. Truly such a shame. At least now, nobody else will get sick from their old things though."

Parking the cart right next to an open campfire, Kink grabbed a spare palate of boards that had yet to be broken up fro the fire. With a loud clattering, he slammed the palate on top of the cart and set about banging on the edge with a hammer, pantomiming nails as he went.

"Really a shame, such a shame. All this stuff will make some kind of awful stink when it catches flame." Kink smiled, lighting a cigar between swings of the hammer, blowing the smoke into the cart. "A cryin' damn shame, I tell you."

 

[PollySays]

A tight fit, to be sure.
A smell that nearly drove her back out of the hiding spot she had claimed.
Used leotards, old skirts, well worn shirts covered in stage make up and sweat. Marie choked back a cough as she nestled down into the mess, reminding herself of how many sacrifices needed to be made to ultimately find happiness. This was simply one such example of that.
Burying her nose into her palms, keeping them tented over her face as lay in the quickly warming clothes, she tried to close her eyes and plan how this would all change things for her.

Better.
It would be better.
She was certain of it.

She must have started to doze off, feeling a sudden jolt of motion. Had she scared herself awake?
Wait. No.

That wasn't her.
That was.

The cart.
Moving. Motion.

Someone.
Pushing!

Marie started to sit up, just enough to push her ear to the wood. Voice. Speaking. Smallpox? Her eyes widened at that, still keeping those hands over her mouth and nose. Panic. This may have been a horrendous choice in places to hide. What good would she be if.

Where were they going?

What was that sound?

She tried to keep still, though her heart felt ready to pound out of her chest. try to keep still, maybe. Maybe he'll turn away or something and. And.

She could feel the fire's warmth against the edge of the cart.

Her dress.
Was it on fire?
She was certain it was on fire.

Marie screamed, pushing her way up out of the pile and tumbling from the mess of cloth, slamming her back against the wood he had set atop it. She spilled onto the ground, a hastened reverse crawl taken to get herself away from the flames. She finally stopped upon seeing her own clothing was in the clear, gasping for breath and trying to calm herself.

The man was still there.
She slowly looked up, her eyes wide and frightened, fully aware of the trouble she had gotten herself into.
Oh good lord, not him.

The clown.

A new face, but most certainly the same man who had given her the fright earlier. She could still see the mark in his lips from his needle, a cigar nestled above it. Those eyes, the way they had stared at her before. The way they did it now.

"I."

Impossible to find words.

"I."

This wasn't how it was supposed to work. This wasn't how stories made it out to be.
Kindly old man. Or an animal trainer. Bearded lady. Or something like that.
Someone who greeted her kindly. That was how it was supposed to work, wasn't it?

Not.
This.

"You. Knew."

Slow words, watching him.
"You. Weren't. Really going to. Were you?"

Doubt.
Questioning.
Unsure, with this man.

 

[LitShark]

Kink laughed at the display of the panicked youth as she went tumbling out of the costume cart. He tried to move the board before she took her tumble but misjudged the timing slightly. It didn't change the enjoyment that he felt watching her fight off the dirty costumes like they were bizarre cloth squid or something. When she looked at him, with her wide blue eyes, both frightened and vulnerable, the clown felt himself opening up to her slightly.

"It was just a prank, doll. No smallpox either, just a bad case of body odor, but I'm sure you knew that already." Kink gave a small, "No-Show-Biz" smile, sincerity peeking out from behind his painted face as he offered his hand to the girl. "Want to tell me what you were doing in there, rooting through our dirty clothes?"

Kink took a moment to look the girl over, not that he hadn't already made good view of her, but he liked her better like this. Free of her social circles and the expectations associated with her caste. It wasn't unheard of for affluent beauties to try and steal off with the circus in search of adventure- though most were robbed, ravaged and dumped off moving trains; once in a while, fine talents were discovered in such ways too.

"Wait! Don't tell me, let me guess. You were hoping to stow away with the camp and ride to the next city with us, am I close so far? See, what they don't mention in the story books is that freight travel ain't cheap, stowing away is a serious crime. Last guy that tried had his hands tied down across the tracks for the whole train to roll over as we left him behind. Nasty business. It'd be a shame for such pretty hands as yours to meet a similar fate."

 

[PollySays]

"I thought you were going to set me on fire," Marie replied flatly, still attempting to calm herself and her pounding heart from the fear he had placed inside it. A tiny sound of agreement came at the comment on the smell, her head turning just slightly to try and note if her own dress had taken up that rather piquent scent. Glancing over doubtfully as his hand was extended, slowly reaching out to take it. He had confessed on not wanting to harm her. Well. Not to set her ablaze, at least. That could be worth something. How much, exactly, she wasn't certain. Gingerly taking the offered hand, she started to get to her feet, frowning with the question on her being there.

Marie simply looked to the ground with that, shaking her head slightly. "It's. It's not what you think."

He jumped on it, his own theory pouring through as he peered at her, relaying along the previous times someone had attempted such a feat. Her nervousness returned with that story, clenching her fists against her dress and worrying further on what she may have gotten into.

Hands. To the. Track?

Marie raised her own shaking palms as that scene reconstructed in her mind, a frightened little sound leaking to her lips. "That. Wasn't exactly what I. What I was trying." Her voice seemed so soft to her own ears now, afraid to even look at him after that tale. "I have to go. I have to get out of this town. Away from. Everything." Marie stole a glance at the clown then, a slight frown upon her lips as she recalled the poster that had drawn her here. That clown's face. It was based on him, but certainly not drawn like him. "I don't want to just leave this town. I want to leave everything. I want to forget I ever had this place. I don't want to even know I had a home." The words ran from her, Marie shaking her head a bit more with each sentence.

"Don't take my hands!," She finally blurted, her eyes widening as she stared at him, panic suddenly kicking in. "I can. I can find uses! I can be helpful, I can do good things! Like. Like!" She glanced around wildly, plucking up some of the abandoned clothing that had joined her on the ground and thrusting it at him proudly. "This! I can help here! Things like this. Wash them. Help mend them. I can even cook, and. And. I can find things to be useful with, I swear!" More desperation found its way into her words, trying to study the man behind the painted mask to see if her attempts had made any affect upon him.

The truth.
Just give the honest truth. As much as she hated to give it.
"My daddy's gonna kill me, Mister Kink," She whispered, her voice dropping as she shook her head. "One of these days, I just know it. He's gotten so close before." She paused, a tiny laugh slipping from her lips as she shrugged. "I know how long now I can go without breathin'. Wasn't my choice to test it. You get real limp, and you get real scared. And you feel everything, everything else, so much more."

 

[LitShark]

An abrupt and unsolicited laugh came upon Kink in a start, leaping past his lips before he got a chance to stop it. Something about this pretty girl's doe-eyed innocence and her earnest trust in whatever he told her- Kink found it altogether hilarious. As she began to unfold her true intentions, he met her glance up to his face with a smile, a heartfelt, understanding smile; not at all similar to a performance smile.

It took some effort, but Kink manged to keep himself from laughing again when Marie made her plea not to take her hands from her. She went on, almost mad with desperation and abject terror. The clown found it all quite endearing.

"So you're saying you need to escape." Kink smiled, taking Marie's hands in his own lightly. "I think everyone here is running from something or other. Maybe we can find some way to make you useful, in return for a ticket out of here... let's see."

In one, herky-jerky motion, Kink tossed down Marie's hands from his own with a metallic series of clicks. When he let go, a pair of standard-issue police handcuffs were locked tightly around Marie's wrists.

"Show me. Let me see you escape these; then I'll let you know how you can escape from this town and your Daddy with those lovely little carpal phalanges all in tact. Otherwise, you could try your luck at hidin' again. But whoever discovers you next time might not be quite as sympathetic to your little sob story."

Perhaps it was slightly cruel, to toss this uninitiated little girl into an escape gambit when she was throwing herself upon his mercy, asking for his help. But life on the road was a cruel at its kindest moments and even if this pretty young thing had a talent for performance escapes, she would require an outstanding amount of time and effort from Kink to protect and incorporate her into the act. There would be some who would view her as a rival and try to break her, others might view her as a conquest and try to awe her. Just boiling costumes wasn't going to cut it.

"We've got no use for folks who can't deliver under pressure around here."