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... s; his lips curled back in a sneer as he eyed me up and down. "You the one making all the trouble?" he asked before he hacked up a glob of spit and sent it sailing to my feet.

"Lick it up," I snarled back, my lips curled in disgust. "Or your carnival can find a new owner."

"Yeah?" chuckled the walking penguin. "And who the fuck are you? I’m immortal; I can’t die. I have run the Carnival of the Damned for over 300 years, traveling from one place to the other. You are nothing more ...

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