Good evening ladies and gentlemen!

You know (wheeze) what it is I hate? When you are (wheeze) evacuating your bowels in a rusty bucket (wheeze) after a day of standing naked in front of cruel children throwing rotten eggs at you (wheeze) and the Master is so drunk that he beats you with a shoe. Why canít he (wheeze) make the extra effort to find his favorite beating stick (wheeze)? I do so hate being beaten with a shoe whilst (wheeze) tending to my sickeningly deformed private parts.

I donít know about you (wheeze) but after a long day of begging for food and being spat upon by dwarves, I enjoy (wheeze) a good cry. I curl up on the cold concrete and cry for (wheeze) God to take pity upon me and kill me forthrightly. Sadly, (wheeze) the good Lord does not kill me and so I am forced to endure (wheeze) the suffering, trapped in this useless repellent husk of a body. But you know when you cry like that and mucus clogs up your nasal passages? Itís (wheeze) embarrassing, and it is an experience that we have all shared. Iím performing here (wheeze) all week.

My mother (wheeze) is so whimsically neurotic, all manner of (wheeze) humorous anecdotes can be applied to her. Actually, that is a pathetic lie. I never knew (wheeze) my mother, although I have this faded locket of her and I imagine her to be a saintly woman, who despite what people say, was not in the habit of being ravaged by pachyderms. I love (wheeze) her so much. I am sure that even as stomach-bile-curdling as my face is, that she would (wheeze) love me unconditionally. Thank you all. Please, try the veal. They wonít (wheeze) let me near it.

Does anyone really understand (wheeze) women? (Wheeze) Always screaming at your grotesquely deformed head and (wheeze) hysterically running into walls, down stairs, and under coaches? Sheesh. Then Master (wheeze) hears you and is drunk and beats you with a stick and (wheeze) you have to sleep where the dogs make and it is (wheeze) cold. You know what I mean? Master doesnít mean it. Iím only (wheeze) beaten with sticks if I deserve it. And besides (wheeze) at least itís not a stocking full of iron (wheeze) ingots.

Anyone from (wheeze) out of town? I donít have any (wheeze) jokes about wherever you might be from. I apologize for that most sincerely. I have never (wheeze) traveled unless it was when Master pulled me around in that foul-smelling (wheeze) cage to the coal factories and let the (wheeze) coughing, soot-covered workers laugh, and throw hot coals at me for a half-pence. Also, once (wheeze) I went to the park but I was beaten by old women with their umbrellas because I (wheeze) made the babies cry.

Whatís the deal with (wheeze) hospital food? I think everyone here (wheeze) knows what Iím talking about. Yes? Please? I mean, hospital food is so (wheeze) delicious. The bowls of broth and bread crusts my friend Dr. Treves brought me were some of the best food I had ever eaten. Although Master and I were fond of boiled rat paws and boot laces, I do prefer the hospital food.

Donít you hate (wheeze) being horribly deformed and having to strip down naked in front of a room of well-dressed English doctors? I mean (wheeze) really. The clean sheets and pillows are wonderful Ė better than sleeping in a puddle of urine. But the least they (wheeze) could do is warm up the stainless steel poker they use to poke and prod at your hideously mangled appendages!

When I was a kid (wheeze), everyone called me 'Elephant Boy' and the head of the orphanage kept me locked in a steamer until (wheeze) he sold me to Master for three farthings. I think we all know what Iím talking about.

You ever noticed (wheeze) how your Master seems likeís heís from another planet sometimes? Heís loud, youíre quiet. (Wheeze) Heís cruel, youíre gentle. He makes a tidy profit off of your misery, and you donít pocket a single shilling! Heh, (wheeze) heh. Master is so hard to understand sometimes. You know?

Just the other day I was (wheeze) wondering: if I could choose between not having a withered arm, a twisted spine, or a bloated skull, which would it be? I think everyone here can relate: you go into a haberdashery, you start looking at a new outfit (wheeze), then you go to try it on, and the proprietor chases you off the premises with a pitchfork? Ha (wheezes), what a wild and crazy world this is!

Anyone (wheeze) like impersonations? I practice (wheeze) them as a fallback career in case being a sideshow freak doesnít (wheeze) work out. This is my impersonation of an elephant, you see, because I am called The Elephant Man. Here it (wheeze) goes: 'I would like a peanut. Hello sir? I would like a peanut. I am an elephant.' Thank you, for your kind (wheeze) applause.

You've been a fabbo audience!


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