So damn proud of me.

Neon; it burned itself into retinas in the form of a negative. Behind the brightness lurked dark, the kind of pitch black seen under the ice of a frozen river at night. It was like a walk down a Las Vegas street. Almost.

Miserably painted (or were they?) clowns' faces poked out from crevices and dim nooks, the stuff of childrens' nightmares.

They will be haunted by these masks tonight, the young'uns, once the excitement wears off. Curled on their beds in the dark, they will struggle to perceive what they know is there.

Mirror mazes beckoned - "We'll defeat you, no doubt! Come in, try your luck. We can trap you so easily..." - to young couples.

The freakshow lay still shrouded, the subject of impatient observers' anticipation.

A curtain covered a hole, an entrance. It was whipped open, and a call bellowed forth from deep within. "Come one, come all...!" and come they did.

Only - it's not a hole, it's a mouth.