Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,

Welcome to the most magnificent show on the Earth.

Give it up for our acts,

The clowns,

The jugglers,

The face painters,

The body modification artists,

The magician,

The fire-breathers,

The sword-swallowers,

Myself, your ringmaster,

And of course, our creator, Philip Astley!

My clowns, always smiling.

A hidden heart beneath the makeup

No recognition, no face to put the applause to.

Next, behold my jugglers, so focused.

Always catching more than they should,

Juggling every ball like it’s the last thing they could.

Look now at my face painters, so hardworking.

Yet nobody notices them,

Yelled at if they fail to fulfill perfection.

Ah yes, my body modification artists, so flexible and strong.

Almost always reaching the bar,

Even when it’s at impossible heights.

And there, my magician, so skilled at his illusion.

Magnificent in his performances,

Criticized for any injuries.

Behold, my fire-breathers, touching flames so fearlessly.

What, no applause?

Hours of skill and you think it’s all fake?

And now, for the grand finale, my sword-swallowers, so precise and patient.

No applause either?

Their strength and resilience hidden from your view, as always.

Okay, what about me, your ringmaster?

Why do I get the most applause?

I just tell their story.

And finally, Mr. Astley, creator of this show.

Who set the rules to hide our faces,

And made applause worth more for the storyteller, than the performers.

Why must we applaud for the least effort?

Why must we wince at small mistakes?

Why must their performances jeopardize their lives?

Why must they cry after every mistake?

Why must their bar be so high?

Why must they be hidden from the crowd?

Why must they be on the road forever?

Why must their homes be so quiet?

Why must their pay be so little?

Why must they work so hard for so little?

Why do their countless hours of effort have little reward?

Why must they not live a normal life, Phillip?

Oh, because you robbed the people with special abilities from their hard earned happiness.

We deserve our chance to show ourselves,

Not for you,

But for us.

No matter how much you throw at us,

Every ball,

every flame,

every trick,

every expectation,

We will do our best,

And still make every mistake,

And Mr. Astley,

No matter what we do,

It’s never enough for you.

So we’re on our own now,

Nobody will push us too far.

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for supporting us and enjoy the rest of our show!