Let's be the carnival that just magically appeared in your town yesterday

I'm something evil, this way coming.

I'm touched by a carny!

I’m the hobosexual drifters lurking in the shadows and alleys between the tents.

I'm the very questionable safety inspections of the rides.

I'm Myrtle Lum

I'm the monkey's paw from the elderly fortune teller that you took, even after she warned you and jiggled her neck flab at you and everything 🙄

I’m the people who go missing.

I'm the fat whore enjoying my fifth funnel cake.

Moving on to the ice-cream stands now.

I’m the loud, obnoxious douche bro who’s the first to puke on the Zipper.

I'm the fried Oreos.

I'm the exhausted, toasted mom dropping off Timothe & Madison at the entrance, striking a curb and cursing it out on my way home in my G-wagon.

I’m the dirty gypsy undertone.

I’m blubby bellies protruding from clothing, as far as they eye can see.

I'm the delicious nachos that are probably filthy with dirt, grime, spittle, and who knows what else, but still . . . yum.

I'm the duck pond game.

I’m the random carnival worker who is actually quite hot if I could get cleaned up.

I'm the doomed parakeets that you can win by tossing quarters into the ashtrays on top of our small cages.

At least we're not the goldfish.

I'm the loud squealing and clacking of the ancient, rickety rides.

I'm the young boy plotting overly complicated schemes to pass by the (for the umpteenth time) the dirtiest and sexiest and least clothed of the carnies, always with at least one hand down his pants scratching a crab infestation or grabbing his meat to press it forward against his filthy shorts.

For all my clever scheming, I'm caught in the act more often than not, the carnies having an innate awareness of their charms, such as they are, and the people drawn to them, such as they are. "Hey kid, you like what you see don't you? Let me give you a better look."

I’m actually Shen Yun.

I'm Sniffies

I'm the baby elephant that keeps dancing as long as the music is playing....even if it's 11 p.m. and I started before noon.

I'm the pocket lady.

I'm the candy apple that's going to break your tooth.

I'm the giant power cables stretched in all directions that trip all the old ladies and the "family men" staring at the scantily clad teens rather than watching where they're going

r19 That reminded me of my youth - so hot.

I’m footman Jimmy, drunk and flashing my cash, not knowing that several men are following my hot, tight, blond ass for very different reasons.

I’m the bottle of Dr. Good

I'm Donald Trump!

I’m the yearning. Everybody here wants something — they ache to fuck or run away from their homes or be beautiful or take risks on those rings at the top of the tent — one or two may even follow me. They don’t know I’ll never stop tormenting them. Never, ever, ever.

I'm the emery boards suddenly out of stock the local CVS

I'm the disturbing lack of police presence.

I'm the Fortune Teller Miracle Fish.

I’m cum dripping out of the ass of a young ranch hand that rode my cock in the urinal near the pig competition..

I'm the "Karnival" app. You need to install it on your phone in order to gain entry into the carnival and to pay for food and rides. The Karnival app can only be installed on iPhones updated to iOS 17.

I'm the middle-aged cop with a tense home life, investing the reduction in downstream flow of the town's river near the fairgrounds, confident that it's just beavers at this time of year. But I'll go out and take a look anyway.

I'm R37, and R19 just made me cum

I don't get the emery board comment. Explain?

I’m the Town Mayor. I’m supposedly here kissing babies, shaking hands, and judging the pie contest. I’m really here to pocket my white envelope stuffed with cash to look the other way and just sign off on the planning and safety permits needed.

A poor attempt at pulling in more tangential Needful Things humor, as if the mysterious Max von Sydow guy has to keep his demon nails manicured, R38. Apologies for my failure.

I'm the little mirrors that get handed out as prizes. I have band logos or funny sayings on me.

I'm the diet that consists of mac 'n'cheese,fries, and chicken tendies.

^wrong thread

I am the dunking booth that everyone is forced into, whether they want to or not. No one exits dry. The better clothes are the ones I want to wet most.

r40 Next time, try to write in complete, coherent sentences.

I’m the blue raspberry snow cone.

Something wicked this way cums.

I'm the the shifty-eyed scrambler operator. I have a thin mustache and a criminal record for scrambling someone's brains out a decade or so ago. Don't ask about my tattoo.

I'm the powdered sugar shaker for the fried dough. I've been manhandled.

I’m Zoltan the Fortune Teller. I only predict gruesome deaths.

I'm Krystal, I'm a local gal stilll in high school, gettin' pregnant yet again this carnival week.

I'm the Lion's Club chicken booth.

I’m the bad, rainy weather that we (and all of YOU, too 🤣) will continually experience until we leave for the next town.

I'm the owner of the carnival, Mr. Louis Cypher. As you can see by my red pinstriped suit, claw-like fingernails and pointed teeth, I am a normal person who deserves the benefit of the doubt. Do you like signing contracts? Step into my office-tent. It's the one where the entrance is a giant fiberglass head and you have to walk through the screaming mouth to get to the pitch-black abyssal space within. I think you'll be very happy here.

[quote] A poor attempt at pulling in more tangential Needful Things humor, as if the mysterious Max von Sydow guy has to keep his demon nails manicured, [R38]. Apologies for my failure.

No failure on your part. It's been a good 30 years since I've seen that movie, and I remember nothing about it. I actually always mix it up with The Dark Half, which was another King adaptation released the same year.

I’m the endless drone of fucking calliope music that makes you want to run away! Perhaps run away to a new woman who understands…. Run away periodically to escape the music… maybe get the dick wet a few times… America!

I'm a puny cocklet-ed OP, hanging around the tents after dark, hoping to get ravaged by a roustabout with muscles and the taste of whisky on his lips.

That's the dream we all share, r57.

I'm Joan Crawford as the former "carnival dancer" out for revenge in "Flamingo Road."

I'm the fried dough.

r57 That sounds hot

I’m the fat guy yelling at his toddler.

Someone find a hot video of a carnival worker getting blown by a guy behind one of the rides!

I’m stuck at the top of the 🎡

I’m sausage and peppers and fried cheese and acid reflux

I'm Billy, I make this one horse town every fuckin' year.

My job is to make sure the kids don't fall under the machinery but I don' give a crap.

I'm too busy side eyeing the closet cases who will pay $$$ to blow me after they've taken their wives and kids home but come back here after dark.

I’m Chucklefuck Todd and I dropped my phone on the bladed spin wheels. I’m just going to sneak in and use my tactical skills to search for the damn phone. Serpentine! Serpentine! In the middle of the night. With two teenage ride workers yelling at me from the gates…and *WOOOOOMP*

And once again, thanks to R66 yet another thread turns into Penthouse Gay letters...

Hot

I'm Angela Basset's 3rd tit in Freak Show; I give her the power to chew the scenery all season long

We're the 12 year old girls who left their houses dressed age appropriately. Our parents think we're at Krystal's house; Krystal's parents think we're all sleeping over at Shania's house. Now we're clustered behind the Sno-Cone trailer, changing into slutty clothes and helping each other apply cheap makeup. We're squealing with excitement and can't wait to hit the midway.

One of us will never forget this night.

I'm Betty Hutton, hysterically overacting while Jimmy Stewart runs around as a true killer clown...

I’m the enormously obese fat women and guys with tattoos over every part of his body, and you don’t need to step into a tent or pay admission,

We’re frigging EVERYWHERE now!

I'm the crying babies in strollers being pushed into that crowd of obese fat women, tattooed apes, bright strobing neon, screaming ride-goers, and puddles of puke to have nightmares for years. I'm facing outward in my stroller - my parents haven't looked at me or heard me since we got here.

I'm the congealed, jaundice-yellow nacho cheese sauce.

Magically, you say?

R3 👍 😁 Hobosexual 😁

I'm the weight-challenged cisgender performer who identifies as female. Do not call me "the fat lady" or I will go off on you for your weight and gender biases!

[quote]I'm the congealed, jaundice-yellow nacho cheese sauce.

That ain’t cheese, toots

Carnie porn?

I'm the blow job I just gave to the hot carny trash.

I’m the Motley Crue mirror, with cardboard Greek key frame, that my friend and I won. On the walk home, it was tragically dropped on the train tracks. It split perfectly in half, and allowed us to communicate with each other when we weren’t together. Like walkie-talkies! Oh, isn’t St. Louis a wonderful place?!?

I’m the upper plate to a set of dentures you find on your walk home.

You didn’t bring money with you and you didn’t take any away.

Once home, you will wash it, try it on, and then see if the dog wants to wear it.

I'm the Oak Ridge Boys tribute band.

I'm the pie eating contest!

I'm the ride with missing parts.

I'm stuck at the top of a ferris wheel. Nice view for five minutes but let me down now! Why must these seats rock?

I'm the "Differently Abled" Show. Don't you dare say that "F" word!

The DataLounge Freak Show is just the closest bus stop with commuters. The audience provides running commentary on open food, bad shoes, and questionable facial piercings.

I am the vomit spewing out of the mouths of the kids on the Tilt-A-Whirl.

I'm the croaking Ferris wheel, ready to collapse under the weight of Kystal and Branden's heavy petting.

I'm the town tramp who's fucked every straight male in town. I have no marriage prospects due to my reputation and no job prospects since I dropped out of school.

Maybe I can hook up with a carny and he can take me away from all this, but he'll probably leave me stranded in the next town.

I'm the 10-dollar funnel cake

I think every carny has a full bush. They don't look the type that they care, and I'm all for it.

I'm Ray Bradbury, suing for copyright infringement.

I'm Edna Murgolis, the carnival operator's surly wife. I have a wart with three long hairs and a bad attitude. I'm fanning myself in the shade tent with a People magazine and cursing the day I got married.

I'm the drugs

I'm the exhausted, abused pony who'll be giving thankless rides to your zeppole-fattened brats for the duration of the carnival -- which may or may not extend beyond my tragic life expectancy.

More please...

I'm the greasy, butter-soaked fried dough. I will sit in your stomach for weeks.

I love fried dough from county fairs.

R101 Fried dough covered in powdered sugar...yum

I'm the high school girl who gets fucked by the sleazy hot and hung carny in the camper. I love every fucking minute of it and go back for another ride the next day, and I tell my gay friend who is scandalised and insanely jealous.

I’m the titties popping out of the skanky outfits on the Tilt-a-Whirl.

We are the new led filament bulbs randomly mixed in with the old Edison bulbs on the electric garlands, rides, and barker stands. But of many different color temperatures and wattages. We add to the menacing Schizoid vibe.

I'm R103 experimenting with this new lifestyle. Beats being fucked by stepdad. My gay friend, Toddy, and I are going hang with the carnival and see where it takes us. Toddy aches for the Tilt-A-Whirl guy.

I'm the sound of the dry fall leaves skittering across the pavement in the midnight wind, the sounds of quiet footsteps behind you as you hurry, the music of the distant calliope and the far off muffled screams

I'm the big load of jizz fucked into a hole in the back of the mouth of a stuffed pig that the carny arranges to award to a 13 year old girl. I'm still wet. And I don't smell yet, but I will, later on, in the girls bed.

Was my scenario beyond the pale? De trop?

R108 Interesting...

That’s sounds very personal and specific R108.

Got a story to share?

I'm the lady fortune teller you happen across. She is full of crap.. or is she? She tells you sonething that starts you on your magical journey that will fill the rest of the pages of the book. .

I spent the most magical night of my 12 year old life there!

I'm the lost child. Am I really lost or am I abandoned when the carnival moved on? What will become of me...

I'm the cheap but cute looking bootleg stuffed animals that are not made to last. You can easily find one of me in a cheap bootleg toy store that somehow was allowed to set up shop in an upscale shopping mall (money laundering?).

People obsessed with winning or impressing their girlfriends will go to great lengths, spend a ton and money, trading and leveling up just to win one of me. Even though the games are mostly or entirely rigged.

One man even spent his life savings at a carnival in order to win a large ridiculous stuffed banana with dreadlocks. Sad empty people obsessed with principle and shallow victories tend to be the biggest suckers.

[quote]One man even spent his life savings at a carnival in order to win a large ridiculous stuffed banana with dreadlocks. Sad empty people obsessed with principle and shallow victories tend to be the biggest suckers.

Sounds like Vegas.

I'm the fried butter.

R117 I've heard of deep fried Oreos and deep fried Coke but that is even more ridiculous and deranged. Why do so many people in this country (especially those who are white trash or white trash from down South or the Midwest) have such an intense and enthusiastic obsession with deep frying just about everything?

And I thought some of those bizarre early 20th-midcentury cookbook recipes and most of English cuisine were bad! Deep fried butter just about takes the cake.

I’m locking my doors and windows. Security alarm engaged. Outdoor cameras activated.

I have been touched by a hobo

R120. I love homeless porn!

And as if that wasn’t enough of an indignity I was touched by a carny….several carnies!

I'm the missing items stolen from local residences while the unsuspecting residents enjoy the delights of the carnival. Not to worry, I'll look into it.

Did one ever pick you up and carry you? Asking for someone who started a different thread.

R124 Yes.

I am the Dust Witch, creeping around your houses in the darkest hours of morning and looking for two young boys with names Halloway and Nightshade...

Read it every fall when it starts to get colder.

R127. Jesus!

The dude in r66 is so very hot.