On Saturday morning, the smell of cotton candy permeated the island once again as the booths at Cooger & Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show began to turn on and light up. There were more attractions to see today than there had been yesterday, and wasn't that just wonderful
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She made a mental note to round up a few of her monks and make them come back to show this stupid carnival exactly what it was missing.
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Did he look a little like a grown-up version of one of her students? Maybe if she'd paid enough attention to Cecil in class. Was his grin just a little too wide? Very possibly.
"What's your pleasure, dear lady?" His smile grew almost impossibly wider. "The Temple of Temptation, maybe? Our dancers will give you a real show!"
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But probably not.
"Just how good are these dancers?" Navaan demanded. "Because unless there are some high-quality dancing and higher-quality drugs, I'm just about ready to go."
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Surely taking a bite won't hurt. Or another. Or a third. The kind woman with the beard manning the booth will be happy to keep serving you... for as long as you want.
[[ the cotton candy is addictive, and eating more of it will make the addiction worse. ]]
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[[ the carousel will age you up or down, depending on its whims. ]]
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A carousel spun before her, dark and inviting. It was blocking her path. She could -- hop onto it, and dash across the horses, and jump off on the other side. It was easy.
The carousel was spinning too fast. The revolutions were making her dizzy. She was just going to stop here, at the center. Just for a moment. Just a moment.
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[[ can show you your own memories, distorted versions of yourself, images of people who've been co-opted into joining the show and scenes of how it happened; the maze will drive you mad if you stay too long ]]
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"What hellish form of torment is this?"
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[[ the targets will come to life if you try to shoot them, growing larger and attacking you. they might be wood, but they have sharp claws and teeth ]]
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Until he picked up a gun, aimed at a duck, and fired.
The gun backfired and broke, sending gun pieces through his head. As Bruce fell back, his last thoughts were that the backfire sure sounded like the gun hissing laughter at him.
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