<a class="externalLink" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FAQgXPTekOU" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">-The middle of -nowhere- Ohio-1939</a><br/><br/><span style="color: #666600">"Enzo, now I know I've said it before,but you really outdone yr self this time.  This is absolutely the most hair brained thing you've ever done."   </span><br/><br/>Izzy stood from her kneeling position, dusting her hands off on her brown slacks as she watched their new banner raise high above their new home. It was early morning, just past sunrise in a muggy Ohio cornfield. The smell of cut grass and morning dew still hung in the thick morning air.  As she craned up, she shook her head. Gone with the years was the original Cirque Du Steam banner, and in its place high above the attraction sat in massive red and gold letters<span style="color: #b30059">"The Mantelli Brothers : Greatest show around!"  </span>. She narrowed her gaze and shook her head with a disproving sigh.<br/><br/><span style="color: #ff8000">"Bitterness will give you wrinkles Isabella."</span>Enzo turned toward her, his thumbs beneath his suspender's, proudly prying them outwards.<span style="color: #ff8000">"You've whined for the better part of the morning and I still don't see your problem with this name. We needed something, and I made a decision."  </span><br/><br/>Izzy glowered, her nostrils flaring as she shoved her brother and pointed,<span style="color: #b3b300">"I told you to -watch- it with that Isabella shit.." </span>she looked around, voice low as she straightened up.  She cleared her throat and continued to make her case.<span style="color: #b3b300">"You named the circus, after yr' shitty fake stage name.." </span><br/><br/>He blinked at her, clearly oblivious to the problem.<span style="color: #ff8000"> "And?" </span><br/><br/><span style="color: #b3b300">"Annndddd..."</span>She drawled out,<span style="color: #b3b300">"You -know- we're at war....right?"</span>They were.  The Diesel age brought progress to the world, but a couple of bad -eggs hadda go an fuck it up fr' everyone.  Hitler had himself some superior firepower in the forms of high power U-boats,planes and even mechanized armor, and it wasn't long before the scuffle overseas became a world wide affair.<br/><br/>He sighed.<span style="color: #ff8000">"The country's at war. We're not."</span><br/><br/><span style="color: #b3b300">"Even if you were right...an I ain't sayin you are -.but ...uh.. you take a gander at a news paper lately?" </span><br/><br/>Enzo scoffed, appalled<span style="color: #ff8000">"....I don't read news Isabella, I make it.." </span><br/><br/>She sighed even louder.<span style="color: #b3b300"> "First. NO...ya don't.  AN -second..." </span>Her voice raised even louder.  Why on earth she felt she could tolerate her brothers buffoonery enough to go into business with him she'd -never-know.<span style="color: #b3b300">"WHO we fightin' oversea's Enzo?" </span><br/><br/>He stared at her blankly,<span style="color: #ff8000">"The....G-Ger...Germans?"  </span><br/><br/>She waved her hands for him to continue.<br/><br/><span style="color: #ff8000">"A..an..anddd...Japan?" </span><br/><br/>She rolled her hand again, sighing loudly as she waited for her brother to land on the right Axis power.<br/><br/><span style="color: #ff8000">"England?" </span><br/><br/>She blinked and stared at him incredulously. She deadpanned,<span style="color: #b3b300">"Fucking really? You think we're in a gad-damned war with England?!" </span><br/><br/><span style="color: #ff8000">"How on earth am I supposed to know?! I'm an entertainer..an artist! Not everyone spent the last decade passed out in  a Parisian brothel and knows all the  Euro-pine...things."</span><br/><br/>Izzy wasn't one to lose her temper , but on this occasion, it was clear her brother would spend the next decade circling around her point.<span style="color: #b3b300"> "Tell me you aren't this stupid..."<br/>
</span><br/><span style="color: #ff8000">"WHAT does a name have to do with this silly War!?" </span><br/><br/><span style="color: #b3b300">"You do realize 'Mantelli' is fuckin' Eye-tal-yun? An if yr' gonna make a fake name , ya might wanna use one to that sounds like  a nationality you ain't if the nationality you is ,is at fuckin war with the country yr living in!"</span>she flailed, hands moving wildly in the air,<span style="color: #b3b300"> " I can see not using our name of Viviano on account of prejudices, specially since we're in the ass end of fuckin' Ohi-er,  but You may as wella' gotta a banner screamin 'Mein Führer's lil' bratswurst show' or  simply 'Yankee's don't give us Ginny's yr' money!' cause it's gonna make people think the same gad-damn thing!" </span><br/><br/>Enzo blinked at her in silence for long, silent moments. His jaw slack, the thoughts in his head stirring.<span style="color: #ffa64d"> "I still don't see the prob..." </span><br/><br/>Izzy cut him off, frustration mounting,<span style="color: #b3b300"> "OF COURSE YOU DON'T! "</span>she turned, flushed face and turned towards the small group of gathered wagons that made their camp. She wasn't sure who was listening, but it was their first day, and already she was at her wits end.<span style="color: #b3b300">"For the love of Pete , someone help me out here..." </span><br/><br/>The small group of wagons surrounded a central cooking pit, where attendants busily cooked the morning meal for performers.  Makeshift showers and outhouses stood to the left, with a small line of personnel waiting for their turn. Picnic tables littered the area, with animal pen nested in the back of the cirque.<br/><br/>Izzy kicked at the dusty red dirt, and started back towards the wagons. She yelled loudly, as she walked into the heart of the cirque, voice ringing out loud<span style="color: #b3b300">"Ten bucks fr' anyone who comes up with -any- name better en' that shit before noon." <br/>
<br/>
</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>