Last night my parents took me to a travelling sideshow. Red velvet curtains swung open, and out paraded the usual fair; the contortionists, the acrobats, the stretchy skinned waifs. There were also, of course, the girls from this song; the exotic girls dancing to sweeping strings, who kicked painted toes at the ceiling and who's bras fluttered confetti when taken off. But what caught my attention was a dwarf on the sidelines. He was just waiting stealthily in the wings, doing his own thing, nonchalantly out of the limelight. All great and fine, except his own thing was insane. Throughout the first half, he stomped around in a kilt, deliriously alternating his actions between licking lightbulbs, pulling party poppers and stapling playing cards to his face. And then after the interval came his solo piece in which, to 'Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy', he pushed a fluorescent tube bulb up his bum before proceeding to attach a Henry Hoover on to the end of his dick, a manic glint in his eye as he thrusted his crotch at the crowd. He stole the show. My mother's conclusion to the whole experience was that it reminded her of a doll she had when she was younger, who's hair would grow if you wound it's arm around.
Click here to watch Tod Browning's 1932 film 'Freaks'.