<div style="text-align: center"><i>WHOOSH		WHOOSH		WHOOSH		WHOOSH		WHOOSH</i><br/>
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<i>							  WHOOSH		WHOOSH		WHOOSH		WHOOSH		WHOOSH</i>​</div><br/>Unbeknownst to Felix, it appeared that he, along with an attractive blonde maiden, were caught in the midst of two jugglers practicing their impressive craft.  Bowling pins were the objects being hurled to and fro, and as they passed the frozen pair, a<i>whooshing</i>sound was clearly audible.  Equally remarkable was the fact that the jugglers were using both of their hands.  This created a sort of flying-bowling-pin gauntlet, as the pins were flung on either side of them.  Though clearly amused, the blonde and Felix nervously smiled at each other, as they were prisoners at the moment.  Neither was willing to risk a bonk on the head, courtesy of an airborne pin, so they held their ground and weathered the storm of bowling-pin<i>whooshing.</i><br/><br/>The juggling display had ended almost as quickly and quietly as it had begun.  Both artists (for that’s what Felix thought of them) now held three pins each.  The tallest of the pair joined his comrade on the other side of where Felix and the maiden were standing.  Upon doing so, the slave of<i>Tricerahops IPA </i>began showering them with applause.  The fair maiden soon joined him, as did others nearby who had been privy to the impromptu show.  Both jugglers smiled broadly, and then graciously bowed to the small crowd in gratitude.  As they turned and departed for somewhere else on the fairgrounds (not to mention “capturing” other hapless souls), the shorter gent started to juggle his trio of bowling pins.  I wonder if they ever stop, Felix thought, his grin taking its sweet time to fade away.<br/><br/>“That was fun, and amazing,” said a strange female voice.  There was nothing even remotely strange about the woman’s voice, but since she was a stranger to him, her voice was automatically considered strange.  Such a strange thought.  There’s those random musings again, and he realized that the potent IPA still owned his hazy butt.  “I’m Clarisse, by the way,” she stated with her right hand extended.  A little slow on the uptake (thanks again, IPA!), and he shook her hand while responding, “Nice to meet you, Clarisse.  I’m Felix.”<br/><br/>“Hi, Felix.  Are you, um, here with anyone?” she asked, with an anxious expression that all but begged for him to say<i>no</i>.  Which was what he was gonna say anyway, since it was the truth.  Besides, what if she chose to stealthily follow him around the fair, eventually exposing his white, blatant lie?  Random reflections again, jackass.  Focus!  Felix shook his head, but followed the gesture with a soft “no” anyway.  Her smile could have melted the most . . . ah crap, let’s face it.  There was no way he was gonna come up with an appropriate analogy for her smile, not if his current condition had anything to say about it.  And it did.  Let’s just say Clarisse had a radiant smile, and leave it at that.<br/><br/>“Good,” she beamed, “neither am I.”  Which now begged the question: How on Earth, and anywhere else for that matter, was it possible that such a radiant creature was here alone?  Best not to dwell on it, he thought, and just enjoy her company.  “Would you like to just walk around, or do you have anything in particular you care to see?” she asked.  Again, he shook his head.  “No, nothing specific,” he offered.  “And anyway, I think randomly walking around is best, as you never know who or what you might bump into.  Like those jugglers back there,” he said, jerking his right thumb over his right shoulder.  With a nod, Clarisse laughed in agreement.<br/><br/>“I notice you, um, don’t exactly do the dress-up thing,” she observed, with nary a hint of accusation in her voice.  “Who says I don’t?” Felix amusingly protested.  “Well, see,” his companion attempted to explain, “Your black t-shirt with an image of a Ducati motorcycle on it with the words<i>La Dolce Vita </i>doesn’t quite fit this time frame,” she said, while nudging his right hip with her left.<br/><br/>In the midst of shared laughter (and let’s not forget the IPA), Felix needed to know.  “And I noticed how you do seem to enjoy the costumes.  Yours is very nice and well done, by the way,” he complimented her.  Since she was already gazing at him, he winked at her with an impish smirk, and then said, “Forgive me, Clarisse, but I must ask.  Are all damsels from this world required to expose copious amounts of cleavage?”<br/><br/>She laughed out loud while pushing up her bountiful breasts for added effect.  “Probably,” she sniffed.  “You like?”  Now it was his turn to laugh out loud, followed by his reply, “Duh!  What’s not to like?”  As more merriment was enjoyed by the strolling pair, Felix felt he was bound by duty for another look-see at her glorious bosom.  He didn’t even attempt to mask his appreciative glance.  Clarisse playfully pushed him while snickering.<br/><br/>Rounding a gentle bend of the meadow, a familiar sight greeted him in the distance.  “That’s a stage for a puppet show!” he said enthusiastically.  With that, he sprinted toward it, leaving a surprised Clarisse in his wake.  She managed a “Wait for me” before jogging after him.  Had he been thinking, he should have spun around to watch her run.