Mostly just to see what would happen.

Its not that I have a grudge against a particular carney, or anything. But I feel the adventure itself would be quite amazing.

Imagine: You have just soundly thrashed a toothless, cowboyhat wearing, non-washing, smack addicted alcoholic, and you stand over the quiet body of the fallen.

And *creeak*, the sound of hidden doors being opened, the rides fall silent.

Carnies come at you like the living dead, as if from the woodwork.

Lurching, gasping, gagging, moaning and coughing, they lurch closer and closer. You will be overwhelmed, dragged down by the malnourished crowd, screaming and flailing, but to no avail, as they smother you into unconciousness.

You will wake up, in a tent, trailer or a fifthwheel somwhere to the husky sounds of the bearded lady sodomizing you. It will not be pleasant.

Tied up and fed a steady dosage of low-grade smack, they will take 66% of your incisors and provide you with a frontal lobotomy. They need a new operator of the "Himalaya". Or maybe the milk-bottle and baseball scam, if you're lucky.

"Now don't you go showerin' fer aht leahst a wheek, naw, y'hear...maybe THREE. You woun't whant thase stitches ta' geyt infehcted naw, whouldya'?"

Hell no, you wouldn't.

And you would slide into a dark, heroin filled utopia, forever shacking up in decrepit Jaycos, with all information to the outside world being cut-off ever since Kennedy was shot, the only person to leave the group, and travel amongst the 'civillians' as you come to know them, is Zeke. One day you happen upon a flicker of intelligence, and ask Zeke about the outside world.

"Oh, its pretty much the same. You know. Nothin' ever changes..."

Forever a willing slave to this seamy heroin fueled utopia. A carney forevermore.

On second thought, maybe I shouldn't fuck with the carnies.