I told the carny who was lounging in front of a tent festooned with banners proclaiming “See the Monster!” and “Man-Made Freak!” and “Frankenstein Lives!” and which were illuminated by pretty nifty paintings of something that looked like a cross between Boris Karloff and the lead in a high school driver’s ed film. It was just before noon on Thursday and the carnival grounds were practically deserted. I had just covered the arrival of a litter of new dalmatian puppies at Fire Station #3, which was across the street from the open lot where Gluberg’s Grand World-Wide Wonder Fun Fest had set up a couple of days before. The puppy story was set for the Saturday ‘Round ‘Bout Town section so, it being such a swell day, I was in no particular hurry to get back to the paper. I wandered over to see what I could see and maybe promote myself a free hot dog for lunch.I was disappointed. Not only was the hot dog stand closed, the whole carnival was like a ghost town—which just made the whole place creepier, and I’d always found carnivals creepy in the first place.
