Ladies and Gents, children of all ages, I would like to welcome you to the Bentley Brothers Traveling Circus. I am the curator of curios, friend of freaks, ringmaster, and Bentley brother, Barry Bentley.  

           Now, this is not your run-of-the-mill bazaar, ladies and gents, I have scoured the far reaches of the Orient and braved the deserts of Arabia to find you the most abominable aberrations and agile acrobats. I am the man who brought you the Whiskered Whisperer from the deep jungle of Nepal and the sensational Samantha Sparrow, our own shaggy soloist with the voice of a nightingale. But mistake me not, this newest addition to the Bentley Menagerie will put our regular acts to shame.

           Now I must warn you: avert your eyes if you have delicate sensibilities. Gentlemen, be sure to hold your lady’s hand in case she’s startled. I don’t mean to stir up hysteria, folks, but not everyone can handle the truth of what this world has to offer. This man, our main attraction, is defined not by his stature but by the height of his accomplishments. His cry is known to curdle blood, and his sharp teeth are few and far between. 

           It is my honor—nay, privilege—to introduce to you, on behalf of my brother Boris Bentley, the world’s smallest man. He may be unsettling, my beloved audience, but there is no need to fear. He, this horrifying homunculus, does not have a normal human brain like you or I. He can speak nothing more than grunts and gurgles, and it is said that until we took him in, he had never yet worn clothes. But look! There he goes in tiny overalls like a real person. Isn’t that just marvelous, ladies and gentlemen? Watch him crawl there like a beast on all fours. You’ve never seen anything like it.

—C. Rose