Circus

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  1. On the intersection of Melrose and Fairfax is where I found the camera. Sarah didn’t lie this time; the answer to my problems was in fact in the middle of a busy street. I picked it up and looked through the viewfinder only to find a crowd had suddenly gathered around me pointing and laughing at my giant ears. Without hesitation I quickly switched on the technical gadget to record everyone there, which proved difficult since the camera was amplifying all the details. The sheer loudness of the encounter exploded me into next week. When I awoke I was in a bar. I got up ordered a beer but they told me they only served hot piss. I obliged and let the pisser fill me up. As I let the surprisingly refreshing fluids rush through me, the peemaster told me that there would be a circus in town next week and I should bring my camera to document the atrocities that were planned to take place. I wanted to ask him what types of atrocities a circus would be capable of committing in such a remote town like this but instead I grabbed a napkin and used my body’s discharge to finger-paint a vulgar rendering of the bartender as a surgeon aborting a flurry of children. After he kicked me out I made my way to the massive tent. The inside of said tent was even more massive, but that’s almost certainly amplified because of the camera and the increasingly fast speed my body was shrinking. The ringleader slowly approached me but made sure he passed through each and every floating ring on the journey there. Once he was close he began to weep. I asked him what was wrong and he said it was his monkeys. I ignored his explanation because he was intensely boring and I was in desperate need of escargots to fatten me up. A very strong and sexual man stopped me just as I was moving away from the ringleader, who at this point was attempting to extract coins from a floating cube, and told me to look at his birthmark. He pulled off his pants to make known the baby etched into his left cheek. With one swift gyration of his hips, he revealed that it was indeed a hologram that transformed from said baby into a horny teenager with a raging boner. I admit this excited me and we exchanged business cards. Once I got to my seat and pulled out my camera, which was laughing at me for being so insignificant. To my defense, I found the camera’s renderings far too abstract to be significant either. I chucked the laughing lens at my direct front and it soared into the back of a well dressed child’s noggin. He fell to the floor in a mess of blood and silly putty. A loud ding sound. Above the stage glowed an LED light that read “ATROCITIES: 1” I ran to the child to apologize but he was far too heated. The bubbling blood harassed me to the back of the stage where I was handed a gun. It was then that I realized I was the problem. Begging and pleading I demanded that the audience flee the tent because I was fuming with anger and there was no stopping me once I let loose, but they were already enraptured in my act. “This guy is hysterical! ” Erupted a woman who looked exactly like my mother. I aimed straight at her head and scored a perfect headshot. Ding! Her death was heartfelt and intensely inspiring. I took a shot at another, a scruffy looking man, almost certainly homeless. Ding! “How many am I supposed to do?” I asked the ringleader who was already shot dead. Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! At this very moment is when I wondered if I would ever grow back to normal size. I suppose that would have required the escargots.

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