Sam Travis sat on a black plastic seat, eagerly waiting for Clamcorn’s world-famous circus show to begin.  As probably their most committed fan, he came to see the stunning performances year on year and tonight, on his thirteenth birthday, he was more excited than ever to see the familiar circus troupe. 

“Be prepared for a show so dazzling, so spectacular, that your brain may explode!” the ringmaster’s deep voice boomed.  Enthusiastic clapping and whistling came from the audience – even Sam’s parents applauded manically like excitable young children.

Sir Clamcorn - a broad-shouldered, imposing man, welcomed everyone to the opening show.  Sporting one of those funny, curly moustaches and with his jet-black hair, cropped red jacket and long, pointy face, he looked frighteningly formidable as supervisor of the circus.  As he struck his whip against the floor of the empty ring, he caught Sam’s eye, holding his gaze for a second longer than Sam thought comfortable.  He delivered a speech to introduce the first act but before he turned to leave he glanced at Sam again then bowed his head as he strode off.

What was all that about? Sam thought. 

Within minutes he’d dismissed the ringmaster’s strange behaviour as the first act paraded into the ring.