text: I was thirteen when I came here, shipped away from my home so I wouldn’t ‘damage the family name’. It’s all about appearances you see. If I had stayed there my father would never have been elected; ‘the Prime Minister can’t have a son like you’. That’s what my mother told me while she was pushing me into the back of the Rolls. Six years have passed since then; for all this time these red and white tents have been my home and today is no exception. Welcome to the Freak Show. Sure, the ground changes every few months but it’s reassuring to know that wherever we are in the world this little haven will always be the same. I think we’re somewhere outside Leeds, nobody tells me these things anymore. Regardless the ground was frigid beneath my large, stomping feet. The sun shone with a cool severity, it was for show mostly and did nothing to warm us. Alexandra (the Bombastic Bamboozling Bearded Lady!) handed me a warm cup of something or other. Dan the Strongman ranted on about how he could taste the cinnamon hints in it, it just tasted like grass in hot water to me. The drink scolded my tongue slightly and I exiled myself to the facilities. I stared into my drooping eyes through the mirror, my greying, bulbous face filled up all the space on the wall. With a heavy head I inspected my tongue and washed every nook and cranny of what my dear sister used to call ‘the North Face of the Eiger’. Until I was five years old my life was comfortable, my parents told me I was a late developer but at the very least I could still sleep in a bed at night. That’s what I miss most about that life - well it would be if I could remember any of it. Since then I’ve had to sleep sitting upright or my leaden skull might snap my neck; that’s what happened to the last guy anyway. You know who I mean. You probably saw the film, or the play; the world has never grown tired of putting us on display like animals, exploiting our condition. The doctor thought I might have a combination of some neurofibbywibby disorder and Proteus syndrome. Proteus syndrome, what a laugh. Did you know it’s named after an old and forgotten Greek sea-god who can change his shape? Whichever sick physician thought that up has a lot of guts, I can tell you every last one of us would change our damn shape the minute we got the chance. Alexandra helped my get my gnarled trunk through my sleeve while my other arm lay withered by my side. It was going to be quite a busy day today; we had three shows lined up. The sound of children’s laughter began to cross the horizon and the sweet and roasted scent of fresh peanut brittle wafted over the park. I poked a large, solitary eye through a tent-flap. Tickets were being stamped, small bodies were spiralling down the Helter Skelter and miscellaneous faces began to light up like as yellow sponges and pink tigers were won from the stalls around us. MC stuck his long neck into the dressing room, ‘Positions people!’ he cried, ‘We have an audience to astonish!’ Alexandra asked me if I’d seen the grooming kit, it was on her chair and she led me to the ring. Hundreds of eager little faces filled the tent, nibbling away at popcorn and slurping Tongue Gulp! by the gallon. MC waltzed in front of the lights, singing a little song and dancing a merry jig to keep the audience entertained. This episode lingered for a few minutes while James Brown, our clown, searched desperately for his comedy hand buzzer. Alexandra grabbed my hand with a giggle and I felt a little jolt travelling through my body. James snatched it off her while we lost ourselves to laughter. His snarl twisted into a grin as soon as the spotlights hit his face and MC sauntered off with sweat running down his nose. After a while it was Alexandra’s turn to perform. I watched her for a little while, the spotlights glinting off every facet of her silver sequined dress. She’d been going on and on about getting this new outfit for months and I smiled as she span around in front of the ecstatic crowd. She joined me back in the shadows breathing heavily and holding both her thumbs up. ‘You’re going to kill it!’ she whispered excitedly. My gross feet dragged across the sand and my eyes shrivelled away from the lights. I searched every gleeful face in the tent looking for them. I would do it every time I walked the ring but I knew they would never be here, the darling family of Britain. Looks can be deceiving. There was an uncomfortable silence interrupted by a child’s cough. MC’s voice crackled through the loud speakers and I felt every eye in the room scouring over my sunken body.