Ropes swung, Candy Butchers dished out treats of all kinds--peanuts, pretzels, fairy floss galore.

At the Grandstands sat a stone-faced critic, famous for touring restaurants and and other sites. He was never interested in the red and white colors of the Circus.

He grew tired of the show, long before it had ended and poured out of the tent behind many patrons sharing excited chatter about the incredible acts put on just moments before.

The carnival was big, hence why he was completely and utterly lost. Afraid to crush his ego by asking for help, he wandered on in hopes of finding the exit. This place was like a gigantic mirror maze--only..there weren't mirrors, and it wasn't exactly a maze.

Tired and irritated, he wandered into a still lit circus tent and took a seat on what was meant to be a lion's pedestal, nestled behind cages and equipment. It wasn't long before he spotted you--the Ringleader "..pardon me-.." He drawled, unsure what to address you as.