Tales Of The Bizarre

A few last laughs. Bismill! Bismill! Bismill! Bismill! Tisses your strength! Bring the bell with a pride! A few last hopes... A few last fear. Step right up folks, come and see my freaks! Skeleton! Here he has, warm, and bearded lady!

Lambender is the great whistle, we'll each fire and drink slower. He amaze us, this electrical survivor child of 100,000! Move! Apple, your cities in the Egypt's environment! And see, move and find us a 10,000 times!

And here he comes, every night the same wandering down the dusting midwie like he's lost, till he comes to this tent. Hi there! How you doing? OK. Come to look at the jar again? Uh-huh.

Guess so. Well, hey you dumb and you can walk right on in and look yourself. No one left with you to look. Regular clockwork coming back to stare at that god-end jar. This way, right this way.

Those things kept in the jar in the 10th of a sight show on the outskirts of any little drowsy town. One of those pale things, drifting in alcohol, plasma, forever dreaming and circling. Dream. The circle. It's peeled. Dead eyes. Steering out at you.

Steering. And never seeing. Never seeing. Just one of those things. Kept in a jaw. You like it, bud? Oh, yeah. Everybody likes it. In a peculiar kind of way, I mean. You... Ever consider selling that nah, it brings in the customers.

They like seeing stuff like that. Sure. Oh. Well, if a guy had money, maybe... How much money? I don't know, maybe three, four, seven, eight, ten, or perhaps fifteen dollars. There again. See, a guy has twelve dollars.