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Welcome to the Freak Show. This feature shows just how cruel the world can be at times, to bear in her busom and finally wretch forth these... gifted... things. As such, we at the Freak Show of Vaincu make it our duty to give them one last chance at fame and put some light at the end of the tunnel. Placing them on show for your entertainment and our personal gain. Now if you'll please deposit 2 copper coins into the box, we can continue.




Half Fish, half bird. Fishbird. This pitiful creature was the sad result of a romance never meant to be. One was a chicken from a farmers field. The other, a trout from the waters of a near by lake. Fish bird was found on the beach, looking confused, gasping for air with its terribly undeveloped lungs. The Fish bird is truely alien to both worlds -- It can't swim and breath underwater, it can hardly breath air, and it sure as hell can't fly. Maybe you could... spare some money for his college fund? *Fishbird holds out a tin cup with 2cp in it expectantly*
Please deposit coins now...

Once, in a long time ago there was a game know as final fantasy III, a page was dedicated to it known as the Pookey page. One cool evening the Pookey page burnt to the ground in an inferno of wasted eforts and broken dreams -arson suspected. This one doll was the only surviving article: "Tickle me Edgar doll". Simply tickle the doll to achieve it's function --NO, DON'T TOUCH IT! I mean *cough* it's a little touchy. At any rate, most of the doll line was defective, many exibiting physchotic tendancies.

The 'Exibit Card' reads as follows:




Once it stalked its victims through the night. Nothing, not even the fetal matter remaining upon the hide of fishbird could escape the limits of its apatite for leud objects to role in and later eat. Ladies and gentlemen, the House of Oddities company brings you; "The Were Weasel!". Why is it out under the open spot light you might ask? Well, we recently took out weasel insurance in case of accidental death or injuries sustained by guests and staff... You can pet it if you want to... PET-IT.


Now, I've been known to lie, but this here is a true story, the story of Jelly Boo. Now Jelly Boo was a huge, glistening freak with a large round form, eyes that shone with the fires of hell and a heart of the purest lead. Now, Jelly Boo lived out in the backwoods of the desolate little hovel known as Lakefield. There he had created a birch bark canoe with his bare hands, and a birch bark cabin with his bare hands and a birch bark tree, using someone elses bare hands that he had found underneath a dock, ah well - finders keepers. Jelly Boo was not the clearest of thinkers,

sometimes, even the simplest things perplexed him like; 'Why would someone leave their hands under the dock.' but he got on fine. One day, he was playing with his stuffed puppy, Bobby Jay Boo. He gazed into its plastic eyes and said
"Isure do wish that you all were a real puppy." well actually he just kind of slured some gutteral grunts, but he knew what he meant. He then had a great idea, a vision. He set out into the woods then hearing a sound coming from yonder, it was a puppy. He then it scouped it up into his big great arms and made his escape.

We now come to the story of Pupnoccio Boo. Late that night, Jelly Boo did place that puppy into a wood chiper along with Bobby Jay Boo. He did plunge them into the depths of the twirlin' steely grin of death of that wood chiper with a plunger he had found under the dock. He then took the quivering mass and shaped into the likeness of a puppy, but not jus' any puppy, Pupnoccio Boo. He did thrust the quiverin' mass into the freezer and waited. Three score and eight days later, he did remove Pupnoccio Boo from the icy pit and said, "You are mine and I am yours Pupnoccio Boo, from now till never comes home for breakfast." actually what he said did sound more as a yack in heat chewing on power lines but, he didn't know no better. Pupnoccio Boo looked up at him with his big, brown, woodchipped eyes and Jelly Boo knew way deep in his leaden bosom that the puppy understood.

He then said to that puppy,
"Let us go now into the fields of Oberon and PLAY WITH THE BONES OF THE DEAD!" And when that little puppy heard that grating rumble, like so many distant thunderstorms in the summer chill, he knew what to do. The two set off into the field, they played frisbe, catch, fetch after which Jelly Boo had another vision 'axe tag'. He did pick up his rusty old ctitun' chislin' axe, Called by many 'the axe of sloppy justice'. And he did chase that puppy across the field and it seemed as though the two were persued by some invisible foe, across the moon.

With a fell swoop, Jelly Boo did plunge the axe into the semi frozen puppy. Up and down his axe did fall, whipping about his head like so many distraught humming birds. He continued his choppin' 'till he had hollowed out that puppy like a canoe, he then took it to the shore and padled that pupply out into the sunset. They were never heard from again. Sometimes they say, you can still see them, chasin' each other 'cross the face of the moon, that rusty axe a whizin' with the hum of the cicatas in summer.