To the peeper who was up in this tree yesterday night,

Firstly, I would advise that you stop for your own health. The troupemaster has been quick to anger since our strongman snuck away. He says he’s concerned that he might’ve gotten lost or kidnapped but I doubt anybody’s concerned about what happens to that slab of beef; he’s more mad that he lost one of his better acts. Marvin’s a greedy little egg on the best of days but he’s been counting every red cent that comes in like he’s about to go broke, and I can’t imagine what he’d do if he caught someone trying to gawk for free.

Secondly, I have no objection to being watched. Unlike some of my so-called peers here, I am a true performer. But if you’re going to watch me changing, I expect to be seduced, fed or paid first. Luckily I am quite bored and Marvin’s been paying us irregularly, so I may be willing to consider a side-gig. Approach me in green after the Saturday show and we may negotiate. Show me that not everyone in this dusty corner of the country is dull, young man, and perhaps I won’t tell on you to Marvin.