My eyes narrowed on the tiny, round man slowly making his way toward us; 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 than a soon-to-be exhibition. Everyone! Close up! It's time to move out. Anyone not in their trailer in the next 10 minutes will be forced to stay outside while we deal with the rift."
The Carnies around us went pale at that threat, but I didn't react. "Lick it up," I repeated, seeing the disgusting blob in the dirt. "Or your carnival will find a new owner."