<em>Ssshh! Sh-sh-ssh!</em><br/><br/>The chaos quieted as there was a five second pause of silence. From the slightly parted drapes of the tent protruded a long bronze telescope that stopped at Azalea’s ankles and then elevated up the length of her body, the spyglass capturing her every curve until it reached her face.<br/><br/><em>Black Beard’s Ghost!</em><br/><br/>“Let me see that…Oh boy! I got company. Everybody leave!”<br/><br/>The telescope retracted as a small wave of ocean water flushed from the small tent with seaweed and red crabs dancing along the grass. “Aw, Booby, why can’t we stay and watch?” one of the jester’s questioned.<br/><br/>“Because this is a private show.” There was a mischievous tone in the clown’s voice. “Take the secret exit.”<br/><br/>A sigh uttered from one of the jesters as the sounds of someone tapping in some electronic code followed. There was then a hiss of pressurized doors opening, and then they closed with a low rumble. The small tent was now a quiet place before Bojangles voice came clearly, “Seeking an encore? I’m in the middle of my bath. You’re welcome to join me—that is, if you can figure out how to get in here. It’s easy said and done.”