Our competition reminded me of the last time a circus turned up around here. I asked Ed if I could go and interview some of the performers, cos I thought maybe I'd get into the show for free, but the old bighead decided to do the job himself.
'As a reporter, you're still wet behind the ears!' he said. 'It needs someone with years of experience for a job like this. I'll write a piece about the folk you don't see in the ring. The chap who sweeps-up after the elephants - people like that! I don't need to see the show.'
When he arrived, Ed parked his old banger round the back of the circus tent and trotted off between the caravans to look for his first victim. He said you could tell who lived in each caravan by the washing hanging-up outside! F'rinstance, there were spangly tights outside the trapeze artistes’ home and an enormous shirt with a 20 inch collar outside the strongman's place. 'Now that's what I call a big top!' observed Ed.
But everyone was much too busy to talk to him so, he decided to wait until the show had finished. The sun was down by then and he had to grope his way back to the car. After he'd climbed into the back seat, he soon nodded off.
He woke-up with a start when he realised he was on the move. Next thing he knew, he was driving round the circus ring with a load of clowns! In the dark, he'd got into the wrong car! And to make matters worse, they tipped a bucket of water over his head!
'Now who's wet behind the ears?' I grinned, when he told me the story!
See you soon