Posted Tue Nov 1, 2005 1:29PM
The Flea sniffs the air, catching the scent of stale popcorn. He shuffles from foot to foot, obviously troubled by the gathering spectators, but intent on snatching some carelessly dropped morsel. He smiles a slightly unnerving smile at those gathered, reaching out with tiny hands, imploring them to be kind. At the slightest of movements he scurries away to the nearest dark corner to await his oponent, squeaking softly to himself.