All along the winding road and on the straights and the narrows, the carts and trailers, the people and the horses traveled their way through space. Their elaborate carts and decorated vehicles made their way through the country and the wide landscapes and they passed by forests, fields of grass, plains and deserts. The rolled on by like they have done all along, and sitting in one of the train carts that bumped and jiggled, the contortionists dangled his legs off of the ledge, a sketchbook in his lap. With his fingertips as black as charcoal, lines ran along the page and dots were speckled on top in layers. In a brief pause, his thumb wiped under his eye, smearing the dark grey before going on. But there was a bump in the track, and the cart swayed, leaving a long, black streak
The train jumped again, and with a loud holler from the familiar German accented voice, Matthaus grinned. He leaned forward out of the cart, smiling to the front of the vehicle before standing up and setting his book down. Grabbing the frame of the box, Matthaus leaned outside of the cart, passing the message on, knowing perfectly well that sound does not travel well on trains. "Almost there ladies and gents!" He pulled himself back and twirled around to his supplies,"So let the fun begin."
Not long after, the traveling came to a halt and the ritual of unpacking and setting up the tents began. Matthuas stepped off the train, items and supplies in tow, he previously bare face now adorned with makeup. Instead of wiping away the charcoal under his eye, he added a second smear under his other, then had added cosmetic glitter. And to top it off, almost reflective black lipstick. He was feeling rather lazy about makeup today after all.
With a long pack of poles and fabric in a hefty tarp dragging behind him, he selected a particularly grassy patch and unloaded his gear. First he placed a small block and traced a round circle around it, pulling at grass every few steps for where he would put his stakes. Before continuing, he grabbed a small, blank book, opened it to a fresh page, then slide the blades he grabbed inside. It was a quick process and it only took a second longer before he drove his stakes in, which was the hardest part. He's never enjoyed sledge hammers, nor the blisters they gave him at times. But it had to be done and the stakes were put in their rightful place. He spread the red and white tarp over the circle he had created, taking care to also place the center poles evenly between them. After that, it was almost as if he was on autopilot. Matthaus had done the same routine for over a decade and setting the ropes and pulling the poles up really was just a blur. In a mere 15 minutes, his personal tent was set up, and within another half an hour, his stuff was unpacked.
And now he was hungry.
Pulling out a small bag of peanuts he had saved, the witty man perked his head up like a coyote when he noticed dust clouds raging towards their camp. Plucking a peanut and placing the whole thing in his mouth, he chewed his way to the commotion. Commotion always followed authority, didn't it? Because in some places, people knew that the authorities had no authority at all.
This was one of those places.
Watching the scene as if it was a play held just for them, Matthaus munched his peanuts like popcorn, smiling deviously as Fräulein tells the men off. He was just about to see fireworks light off too when they gave up, throwing a small tantrum with the bill before they left. Fräulein had the last word, of course, and made sure there was no worry, but Matthaus knew better to believe otherwise. "More like Baboons." Buffoons was being awfully nice. Matthaus plunged another peanut into his mouth
Along the path in which he took, he had the misfortune to pass by the clown cult. At least that's what he called it. They were always together like a high school cheer leading squad, talking and giggling at their horns and shoes and flowers as if they had something to hide. It was hard to forget their faces unfortunately, especially for one who made it a point to know his pride and joy like the back of his hand. So when a bloody masked clown was juggling two pins, Matthaus managed to pause briefly. Subconsciously he started to chew obnoxiously loud once he stopped in front of him.
At first he didn't speak a word, his long locks blowing in whatever breeze there was in the bloody heat. But finally after swallowing the last handful of nuts he had thrown into his mouth he nodded towards the pins,"I hope your missing pin isn't anything like your head." What a poor soul. He must be wanting to try out or something. If Matthaus knew anything, it was that it was going to take more than a grotesque face mask and some juggling skills to get in here. "We have enough dumbbells as it is." And that wasn't including the weights for the strongmen. Matthaus plopped another peanut on his tongue then sharply quirked his head with a sarcastic tone,"Good luck with your tryout."He winked, then left the man be.
Hopefully he wouldn't be seeing him again. Gaining another lemming for the cult would just be awful.