roll up, roll up...
It’s the show you've heard all your friends talking about, and now's your chance to see it for yourself. Check out the anatomical wonders of the midway. You’ll witness the greatest gathering of human curiosities. Oh, look, Electric Girl, Seal Boy, Snake Woman, the Pickled Punk, and…who’s that? Follow me.
Why, it’s Miss Savannah, the band’s sultry chanteuse. This former church-singing child star is all grown up, with a devilish smile and a fine set of lungs—all the better for tooting that horn. She’s not bad; she’s just…well, you know the rest of that quote. Her tales of late nights and lost weekends are enough to make the hair curl on a bald man’s head. What’s that you say? “The boys are back in town!” That’s the best news she’s heard all day.
Direct from the Everglades, this is no swamp creature—it’s MoMo, the 'gator-wrestling Hollywood stunt woman. She’s our very own Seminole Indian with the voice of an angel. Hotter than the Fourth of July, she’s the girl they're all talking about (with the act they have to whisper about). Sure, she sings in French but—ne touchez pas!—don’t mess with her, fellas, she will kick your ass.
Here we are, ladies and gentlemen, at the tent of Heather the Tattooed Lady, a red-haired minx, and banjo-player extraordinaire. They say this five-stringed strumpet was once an electric fan dancer in Japan and left behind a line of broken-hearted salarymen from Sapporo to Nagasaki. Now she wows the crowd with a shake and a shimmy as they cheer: “More banjo!”
Who’s this, just beyond the Human Skeleton and the Siamese Twins? It’s Reechard, the best value on the midway. This cat in the hat plays accordion, flute, saxophone, guitar, Monopoly, Russian roulette—is there anything he can’t play? The band’s resident arranger and representative of the chosen people, he’s traded in a misspent youth performing (under age!) at every bar from Fort Collins to Kalamazoo for a quiet life with a wife, kids and Murphy the Wonder Dog, interrupted only by the constant call of the carny.
Past the Pinhead, the juggling dwarf, and the wooden crocodile, here’s Dave the bassmaster. No, there’s nothing fishy about our kid from Stockport—his blue glitter ukulele bass is the envy of four-stringed strummers everywhere (and he plays a mean six-, eight- and, if he is granted the government license, 12-string, too). At nine feet, three inches tall, this musical maestro from Manchester is the band’s tallest member. Step right up, people, tickets are just one dollar.
Look! Over there, by the Bearded Lady’s tent—it’s a bearded man: Steve the drummer. He’s English, too, and a stand-up guy, except for that incident just outside of Fresno. What we mean to say is, he plays drums standing up, rocking out on the cocktail kit in the fine tradition of rocking out on things. His interests include cats and rocking out until the cows come home.