Punch Bag Bob's Questionnaire

I don't really have a home. I wonder. I do my thing, try to make money, and move on. I had a home once... a carnival in a hellish landscape. I had a family then, but it's gone now. I don't even know if it still exists. I got stuck in another world. It's another hellscape, but that doesn't really matter I guess. Not much has changed. I do my thing, get paid, find something to eat, and move on. I will try to find another family maybe. Another circus. Us freaks need to stick together after all. That's about the only thing I know as a Home. After all, home is where your rump rests.

I obviously get my money from performances in the street. It's not a lot, but it usually covers my needs of food. I am content to sleep in the streets and under bridges, so I don't have that to worry about. I don't need or want for much, so money isn't important either. I imagine I may need more someday when I'm expected to take a job I'm not transported to, but that hasn't happened yet. All the sad Mime not noises. I'll figure something out I suppose. For now, however, I am content making enough to get myself to a buffet from time to time. 

I hadn't really thought about it before, but I believe I would like to take the worlds suffering onto myself. I read somewhere that there is only so much suffering in the world, and that that pain can be taken in order to keep it from others. If this is true, and I can take all the suffering in the world, perhaps I can make the world a better place by being it's Martyr. I may have to do more research on this, but it seems viable. Even on a smaller scale, for now, it makes me feel better to think I can help people that way. When I started, I liked being able to be there when people needed to release their anger so that they didn't release it on others. 

That moment my father washed my mouth out with acid has to be my defining moment, and not just because it stripped my voice forever. It changed my perspective of my place in the world. It put me from an arrogant bully, to a humbled object of ridicule, and eventually a target for other bullies. But I knew that those bullies were suffering too. I knew they just needed a release. Having been a bully, I knew that if I made myself a target for all the bullies in school, the Normal targets would be left alone enough to slide under the radar. I did take my time going to all the kids I bullied and let them release their anger on me for all the torment I put them through, then I made myself their shield. I want to take that lesson and project that on a larger scale, if I ever can. 

Nan Akson was an amazing woman, both in her care for us carnies, and for the amazing food she made for us all. There's not a lot to work with at the carnival, so having her around to make even trash taste amazing was great for moral and for the digestive track.

Thomas would probably be the one I'm closest to, only because he taught me to read and write. The whole reason I'm able to even make these logs and answer these questions. Otherwise I would have to try to mime them, and that would be ridiculous. Thomas was just an orphan at the carnival, and his simple nature and love for fun is the reason we got along so well. 

Lastly it would have to be the Ring Leader. He is the reason I had a home, and recognized how to profit from what I was and what I could do.