A man walked into a circus tent. On second thought, it was a woman, with a beard. Then again, it might have been a sentient beard that looked like a woman who looked like a man. No, no, no — it was a man who looked like a sentient beard that looked like a woman who looked like a man. Probably. The truth is, it was hard to tell, really, because the man/woman/sentient beard had the lower torso of a marlin and was breathing fire, swallowing a sword, bending a steel bar, juggling chainsaws, taming a lion, and walking on stilts, all at the same time. “Dear God,” the salivating ringmaster said. “Please tell me you’re joining the show!” “Excuse me?” the [person?] said, shaking [its?] [head? tentacles?] disapprovingly. “You’re certainly starting this blind date off on the wrong foot…”
© 2014 Tony Vicory.