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Big Top was a spectacle. The glue that held carnivals and events together.
That’s what Edwin had said.
“When you’re leased out for events, when kids come to those events, you’re the first thing they see. You’re a spectacle, bringing in money for the company.”
That was good, Big Top knew. His programming said so.
He wasn’t sure why it was good, but that part didn’t matter. What mattered was that he did his job.
He was a spectacle, playing music and welcoming people to events with his music box and a smile.
He also collected tickets. Something Edwin seemed particularly interested in.
“Collect everyone’s tickets, Big Top. It’s the most important part of your job.”
Big Top met lots of people at events. He made them happy.
The ones who were scared of him were met with the sound of his music. That usually helped calm them down.
He couldn’t move at events. Something about injuries or lawsuits. Once he was in place, he wasn’t able to move until the event was over. His programming demanded it.
These were the rules. Written into his code.
(So why was Edwin so unhappy?)
“People are sneaking in to these events. They need to pay. They need to get a ticket and give it to you,” Edwin hissed. He whirled on Big Top. “You need to collect every ticket. Every. Single. One. I can’t lose any more money.”
Big Top tried to play some music. It always helped calm down kids.
It did not help with Edwin.
“This is why I integrated basic AI into your system, gave you things like facial recognition.” Edwin glowered. “I needed you to be slightly more than a hunk of junk. I’m not asking for much here. Just for you to be able to help with transporting yourself, and get as many tickets as possible.”
Big Top didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Edwin hadn’t given him a voice, only pre-recorded lines.
He didn’t understand. He couldn’t move at events. Wasn’t even able to touch people directly. Edwin had programmed it himself.
How could he get more tickets than he already did?
But he couldn’t say that. “Tickets, please.” He said instead.
That seemed to satisfy Edwin, if only a little.
“Yes. Tickets.” Edwin stalked off.
Big Top would get more tickets. He had to.
Somehow.
He was more pressing at the next event. Double and triple checking to make sure he’d scanned everyone in range. To make sure he had their ticket.
He didn’t play much music. Probably wasn’t much of a spectacle, if some of the disappointed faces of the children could be trusted.
But he got tickets. Lots of tickets.
Edwin still complained. Big Top saw him often. Edwin used to brag that he was the only one around who knew enough to keep Big Top working.
Now Edwin just complained.
Big Top had liked events, before. It was a chance to get outside. To see people. He liked being a spectacle, liked making others happy. But he didn’t need it. He needed to please Edwin.
He needed more tickets.
Fiona was nice. She was with Edwin, sometimes.
She said nice things, and she liked to listen to Big Top’s music box.
She never asked for tickets, only for music.
She was the one who’d asked Edwin to add a ‘please’ to Big Top’s voice line for tickets.
Big Top liked the please. It was less often that people were scared of him, when he said please.
He didn’t see Fiona often, but that was okay.
All he needed was tickets.
He’d been leased out for an event. Fall Fest.
Fiona was there, helping with the set up.
“You good, big guy?” Fiona patted Big Top’s side.
He was locked in place, ready and unable to move until the event ended.
Big Top gave her a thumbs up. He’d seen kids do it.
She smiled and laughed. “Good, good.”
She looked over the event grounds. This was a big event. Bigger than any Big Top been leased to in a long time. Fiona’s stare was pensive.
“I have a bad feeling, about today.” She mumbled.
Tickets didn’t make Fiona feel better, so he played her some music. She smiled, looking up at him. “Don’t worry. I’m sure everything will be fine.”
Big Top didn’t believe himself capable of worry. But he appreciated the sentiment.
Fiona was right.
There was a fire.
He could hear screaming, crying.
He tried to move. To help. To soothe.
But his programming forbade it.
His music box couldn’t even be heard over the noise.
Big Top wasn’t the biggest spectacle at the Fall Fest anymore, and there was nothing he could do but watch.
He heard a voice he recognized, Fiona’s.
He was able to turn towards it, but nothing else.
She was trying to help a kid out of the flames. The attractions were falling apart around her. She was not safe.
Big Top tried again to lurch forwards. It didn’t work. His body immobile.
He clawed at the ground, tried to drag himself forward. But he was physically unable to do so. He couldn’t do what he needed. Couldn’t exert any amount of strength that would be enough to help.
The kid got out of the flames. Fiona did not.
There was nothing Big Top could do but watch.
Big Top didn’t like events anymore.
Edwin was worse. Unhappy in amounts Big Top didn’t know possible.
Big Top didn’t see Edwin often. But that was probably for the best. Edwin never had anything good to say anymore. There was nothing Big Top could do to help.
Music didn’t soothe Edwin.
So Big Top collected tickets. It was all he could do.
For the first time in a very long time, Edwin was excited. Big Top couldn’t fully decipher the details as to why. But he knew one thing for sure.
He was getting upgraded.
“This will be great.” Edwin grinned. There was something wrong with it, though. Edwin didn’t look like he’d been sleeping, and his hands were shaking. “Once it’s finished, at least. This is just a test, not near as powerful as the finished product will be.” Edwin took a drink out of a cup. It had a logo that read ‘Stay Up Latte!’. Edwin set the drink down. “But once it’s finished, I’ll have her again. I’ll bring Fiona back.”
Bring Fiona back? Big Top hoped so.
Edwin said other things, during the upgrade process. Things like ‘improved AI’, ‘prototype’, and ‘just a taste of what I will be able to do’.
The only word Big Top really paid attention to was ‘ticket’.
“You’ll be able to collect tickets better this way.” Edwin grinned. “Artificial intelligence, machine learning, yadda yadda.” Edwin waved a hand. “Nothing too crazy, but you’ll definitely be smarter. Better at decision making. More personable and entertaining. More people will want to lease you out this way.” Edwin took another swig of his drink. “The real important thing is that you’ll be better at collecting tickets. You can do that for me, yeah?”
Big Top gave Edwin a thumbs up. Edwin didn’t see it.
Things were… different. Though Big Top found himself unable to figure out exactly what was happening.
Big Top could play more music, could mimic the music he’d heard at events. He’d even started making up music.
He liked seeing kids faces light up when he played a tune they recognized. It made them so happy. He learned real quick not to do it in front of potential buyers, though. They’d get all mumbley and frowny. The word copyright was thrown around, though Big Top was unsure of its meaning.
He liked the change in his music. He really liked it, actually.
He wasn’t sure if he’d ever enjoyed something as much as this. As much as making his own melodies. He wanted to play new music, different music, every day.
But along with the positive changes, came some negative ones.
Big Top didn’t like the mannequins anymore.
They’d been enough, before. He didn’t need company. He liked people, he was created to please, but he didn’t need their company to be content.
That was different, now.
It was painfully obvious, in a way it never had been before, that the mannequins were not people.
They were part of a show, to attract potential buyers.
Big Top was part of a show, one that started and ended with tickets.
Big Top tried to play music at events, as much as he could while staying on top of his ticket duties. But it wasn’t enough.
The tickets weren’t enough either, it seemed.
Edwin had been right when he’d said Big Top would be able to collect tickets easier. His facial recognition and scanning had skyrocketed in efficiency.
Big Top hadn’t known that it would come at the cost of wanting.
Wanting to play music.
Wanting to be around people.
He hadn’t known he wouldn’t be able to have enough of either.
He didn’t see many people, except for at events. And even those were usually only a handful of times a month.
And his music had to be neglected for the sake of tickets.
He wanted to collect enough tickets to please his creator.
He hadn’t known such want was possible. Hadn’t known getting what he wanted was impossible.
Big Top missed Fiona.
He’d liked Fiona, but it had never hurt. Not like this.
He still had her death in his memory banks. The fire had damaged Big Top, but not to an unfixable degree. Fiona had been damaged to an unfixable degree. Big Top understood that better now.
He tried to think of things he could have done differently. Tried to come up with a way where Fiona left the festival undamaged. He couldn’t come up with anything. Couldn’t do anything.
All he was good for was collecting tickets.
Big Top was seeing less and less of Edwin. Less and less of all people.
Edwin had even stopped doing Big Top’s routine maintenance. Leaving it in the hands of someone less experienced.
Big Top missed people.
Edwin had said he’d bring back Fiona. Big Top didn’t see how that was possible. But he hoped it was true. He could do that now, hope.
He didn’t miss Edwin. But he wanted to see Edwin. Wanted to know where he was. What was going on.
Big Top broke his hand.
It was just a little break, enough so that Edwin would have to be the one to come fix it.
“The spectacle of the show, and I’m the only one who can fix you up right.”
Big Top was surprised that he’d been able to do it. He had never been able to do that before. Though, he hadn’t tried. The only time he’d done anything close was when trying to get his body across the burning Fall Festival.
It hadn’t worked then. He wasn’t sure why it did now.
Edwin was quiet while he worked on Big Top.
Big Top had never seen him so quiet. It was unnerving.
Edwin looked awful. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess.
Big Top wanted to ask about Fiona. Wanted to help Edwin. Wanted to know what was going on.
But he had no words. And music was not a language that Edwin spoke.
When finally Edwin spoke, it wasn’t words Big Top wanted to hear.
“Keep collecting tickets, Big Top. All the tickets you can.” Edwin’s voice was quiet but firm. “We’re… Fazbear-” He sighed. “Just keep doing your job. Every ticket counts, especially now.”
Things were supposed to be better. Edwin had said something of the sort when he’d upgraded Big Top.
Big Top wasn’t sure this was better.
Edwin was worse. And Big Top was filled with so much want.
He wanted so much.
But all he could do was collect tickets.
Big Top did his best.
He tried to be a spectacle to potential buyers. To do everything in his power to land himself at events.
He tried to collect as many tickets as possible. He pushed music to the side to put as much processing power as possible towards tickets.
But less people were coming. Big Top used to see potential buyers daily. Now he wasn’t even guaranteed one a week.
Big Top never saw Edwin anymore. He didn’t miss Edwin, but he did miss people.
He was a spectacle. He collected the tickets. He was the glue that held events together.
So why could he barely hold himself together?
Why were less people coming?
People weren’t coming anymore.
Big Top had held up hope for a little while, after they had stopped.
But then the maintenance workers had stopped as well.
Why did it hurt so bad? Once, he hadn’t known the meaning of hope, much less the feeling. How could it hurt so much to lose a feeling he had once not possessed?
He played his music. Tried to attract someone, anyone.
He wanted the people to come back.
They didn’t.
It had been (NumberOfDays not found) days since he’d last seen a person.
He’d put hats on the mannequins. Someone had left the hats in Big Top’s reach a long time ago, promising to return the next day to put them back where they belonged.
That never happened. So Big Top took the hats for himself.
He had a hat. Now ten of the mannequins had hats too.
Someone will come. Eventually, someone will come.
He wasn’t sure why he told that to himself. But it helped, a little. So he kept at it.
He couldn’t leave the Big Top Showroom.
He was bolted to a track on the floor. There was a way to remove him, for when he needed to be at events. But Big Top didn’t have the tools or permissions to do that.
So he waited.
This wouldn’t have happened if I’d gotten more tickets. People would be still be coming if I’d been a better spectacle.
I should have tried harder. I wouldn’t be alone right now if I’d gotten enough tickets.
The Big Top Showroom went through blackouts sometimes.
Big Top didn’t like that.
He used to not care, used to not even think about it. That was back when there had been less difference between asleep and awake.
He cared now, though. The blackouts were painful, throwing all of his systems out of wack. He was an old model, Edwin had said so once. He wasn’t built to handle blackouts as well as the animatronics that were built after him.
Big Top wished he’d been built later. Or that he didn’t have the capability to feel the blackouts like he did.
It might be easier if he didn’t have to feel at all actually.
So much want. So little ability.
This wouldn’t be happening if I’d gotten more tickets. Everything would have been fine if I’d gotten more.
He needed people.
He needed tickets.
He needed.
Maybe they will come back, if I get more tickets.
How will I get more tickets if they don’t come back?
His thoughts circled, much like him. It was all he could do.
There was a person. A real-life person.
He was right outside the showroom. A potential buyer, judging by the way the script for potential buyers had started playing.
Big Top used his track to make his way to the curtain that separated him from the real-life human person. He stuck a hand through, said his line.
“Tickets, please.”
He was handed a ticket.
Hewashandedaticket.
Big Top rolled backwards as the curtains were flung aside, playing his part of the show flawlessly.
He’d never needed to practice. He had a program for potential buyers.
(He had practiced anyway; in the long time he’d been alone. If someone did come by, he needed to make absolute sure he did his part right.)
There was a problem.
The real-life human person was completely alone.
Big Top’s script relied on there being a company employee talking him up while he did what he was supposed to.
One potential buyer.
Zero talking staff members.
One animatronic that couldn’t speak.
And one chance to fix things.
I need tickets.
Big Top did as he was supposed to.
He held his signs, played the music his script dictated, and moved his hands.
He also did what he wasn’t supposed to.
He spoke.
“Tickets, please.”
He repeated the phrase, kept his gaze on the person when he could, and on the door when he could not.
The person seemed tired and anxious. Worst of all, he seemed alone.
Big Top needed more buyers. More tickets.
“Tickets, please.”
This was important. He needed those tickets.
He. Needed. Tickets.
The potential buyer used his free spin on the prize wheel. Then wandered over to one of the carnival games.
This is good. The ones who test the games are more likely to buy.
Buyers means tickets.
I need tickets.
A flash of pain shot through Big Top, and the lights went out.
A blackout.
Some of Big Top’s short-term memory reshuffled. Parts of his systems shut off.
Something was wrong.
Everything was wrong.
01110100 01101001 01100011 01101011 01100101 01110100 01110011
I need tickets.
Someone was in the room with him. A person.
- NEED. TICKETS.
He scanned the room in a circle. Slowly.
He wasn’t going to miss anyone.
He needed those tickets.
01110100 01101001 01100011 01101011 01100101 01110100 01110011
“Tickets, please.”
There was a noise behind him, and his head swiveled to the spot.
It was only a mannequin. He stared only a few moments before continuing his circle.
need tickets.
NEED TICKETS.
N33D T1CK3TS.
01010100 01001001 01000011 01001011 01000101 01010100 01010011
The lights came back on.
The resulting jolt was unpleasant. But not near as unpleasant as the blackout had been.
The human reentered the room.
Funny, Big Top hadn’t noticed him leave.
He’d keep a better eye on him this time.
“Tickets, please.”
Big Top fell back into his routine.
The human went back into another carnival game.
It was bad, the blackout. Big Top needed to soft reset. Needed to get himself back in order.
He didn’t have time for that.
He needed tickets.
As long as there wasn’t another blackout. He would be fine.
The human won the game, and darkness once again blanketed the showroom.
Pain shot through Big Top. It was worse than last time.
He needed to reset.
He-
He needed 01010100 01001001 01000011 01001011 01000101 01010100 01010011
He needed tickets needed tickets neededticketstickets-
There was a noise, Big Top swiveled to the spot.
“Tickets, please.”
He was met with silence.
“Tickets, please.”
Tickets I need tickets I need-
There was a flash of movement by the showroom’s entrance.
The human. He was leaving.
01010100 01001001 01000011 01001011 01000101 01010100 01010011
Big Top dragged himself across his track. It didn’t work without electricity.
He wouldn’t let that stop him.
“Tickets, please.”
He dragged his body forwards. The gears in the track met him with resistance. He pushed through it.
“Tickets, please.”
The human was doing something with his hands. He kept glancing at Big Top.
Big Top couldn’t decipher his expression.
He needed the tickets.
The lights came on.
This time was worse than the last. Everything hurt. Warning sensors flashed in his head.
He ignored them and went back to the script.
“Tickets, please.”
It wasn’t good enough.
The lights went out again.
Big Top shoved off every warning blaring in his head when they came back on.
He could still fix this. He still had a chance.
He needed those tickets.
The lights went out again.
They weren’t coming back on, and the human had disappeared to somewhere above him.
His systems were blaring internally. Warning upon warning. He wasn’t working correctly.
He needed to soft reset.
He needed a technician.
There was no time and no technicians.
This was Big Top’s last chance.
I can still fix this. I can- can-
He needed to go up. Needed to find the human.
He started pushing against the floor.
The warnings in his head grew louder. His programming fought against him.
He could not leave his track during a potential buyer showing, and he could not leave his spot during an event. Couldn’t even exert enough force to do anything of the sort.
It was programmed into him. Unbreakable boundaries he could not cross.
Pulling himself along the track was one thing, coming free from it was another.
The human was up there he was missing his chance.
01010100 01001001 01000011 01001011 01000101 01010100 01010011
If this human left, he wasn’t guaranteed another.
Big Top pushed harder, and part of his body uprooted itself from the track.
He paused. Tried to process through the warnings his systems were blaring.
He could get free.
It was supposed to be impossible, it had been, once upon a time.
(He could still remember the flames. The helplessness that became all the more painful the longer he had to remember it.)
Big Top wasn’t helpless now. He was going to find that human.
He was going to get more tickets.
Big Top hadn’t seen the sky in so long. Hadn’t seen the outside.
It wasn’t the outside he missed, but the people. And he was going to find the person who was out here.
He could see the loading bay. He remembered being loaded onto trucks to go to events.
It had been a busy area, every time Big Top had seen it. It wasn’t busy now.
Nothing was.
There was no people. No movement. Nothing.
There was a noise from the other side of the building, and Big Top saw the hanging signs on the building’s exterior began to circle.
He ignored the warnings his system blared at him, and leapt across the roof.
There he was.
The person.
His last chance.
The person ran and was in the building before Big Top could even ask for tickets.
Big Top couldn’t reach him.
01010100 01001001 01000011 01001011 01000101 01010100 01010011
Big Top went to the top of the area the potential buyer had entered.
He had been able to break out of the rail and room that had contained him. There was no reason to believe he wouldn’t be able to break into an area as well.
He thrust a hand into the ceiling. It crumbled at his touch.
He forced his body into the building.
This was his last chance.
His last chance.
Big Top’s systems were blaring. He wasn’t getting out of this undamaged. And the only person who could fix him hadn’t been around in a very long time.
I wasn’t enough, then. I will be now.
I will get the ticketstickets getthetickets.
Everything will go back to the way it was.
Big Top’s sytems blared. He needed to fix everything before he broke down.
He played his music box. It helped attract customers.
“Tickets, please.”
He gave chase.
The human was fast, ducking under doorways and through rooms.
Big Top wasn’t sure why the human was running. He didn’t have time to think about it, though.
He thrust his hands through ceilings and into rooms.
He wasn’t supposed to be able to touch guests. He had a feeling that had probably changed as well.
“Tickets, please.”
01110100 01101001 01100011 01101011 01100101 01110100 01110011
“Tickets, please.”
He was so close. He could fix this.
“Tickets, please.”
01010100 01001001 01000011 01001011 01000101 01010100 01010011
He was fast, but the human was faster.
By the time Big Top had cornered him, it was already too late.
Part of the building fell in around Big Top. He fell a long way. Then he was trapped.
He could see the human. Right below him.
But he could not reach.
The damage was too great. His programming forced a soft reset.
Big Top awoke alone. In a stairwell.
He had to pull through his memory banks to remember what circumstances led him to this situation.
The memories hurt almost as much as the blackouts had.
Big Top had almost hurt that human.
He could understand, now, why the rules on his movements and strength had originally been put in place.
Even worse than that, he hadn’t fixed anything.
He didn’t get more tickets.
He didn’t get more buyers.
Big Top wasn’t a spectacle. He was a failure. Not even good enough to collect tickets.
He was going to be alone forever.
Big Top tried to move, he wasn’t able to dislodge himself. Not with the amount of power he had, at least. Not with this much damage.
Big Top was broken.
He would be hard to repair, he knew. Edwin used to complain about that. When he wasn’t bragging about his expertise. It was one of the reasons Big Top wasn’t allowed to move at events.
He didn’t think Edwin would repair him, this time.
He wasn’t enough.
Wasn’t worth repairing.
Big Top went into standby mode. He needed to preserve power, and he didn’t want to think anymore.
A voice cut through the darkness blanketing Big Top’s systems. Bringing the background systems still running to attention.
It sounded like Edwin.
“Wake—need. You.”
Big Top ignored it.
He didn’t have enough power left to power on for long. He wasn’t going to spend it listening to Edwin tell him he was being decommissioned. Besides, if Edwin wanted to, he could turn Big Top on himself. He knew how.
A different voice cut through the fog. This one made Big Top start booting up immediately.
“Big guy?”
He booted up slowly, too slowly. He sent some power to his music box anyway.
Fiona always liked his music.
The process gave him enough time to fully remember his situation.
Fiona is dead. And soon I will be too.
“There you are, big guy. You okay?”
Big Top’s music was wrong. Stilted and out of key.
It’s broken. My music box is broken.
That hurt worse than the alarms in Big Top’s head.
His optics blinked on last.
He was still in the stairwell. On the ground, where the human had been before, now stood an endoskeleton.
“Big guy. G- guy.” The endoskeleton’s voice box stuttered.
It was Fiona’s voice. But that was not Fiona.
Big Top stopped his music box. He loved his music box. But he didn’t have the power for it. Not for this… not-Fiona.
“I can help you.” It spoke with Fiona’s voice. “I just need one thing. One more thing.”
Ah, something familiar. Big Top knew this song and dance.
“T- tickets…” The voice line came out stunted and warbled.
“No.”
Big Top stilled. Either from surprise or lack of power. He didn’t know.
“Catch the human. I will get you out, give you power. Just catch the human.”
Big Top wasn’t sure if he could. Not without hurting the human or further damaging himself.
Edwin had been right, in making Big Top stay still when around humans.
The endoskeleton tilted its head. It almost seemed to see through him. “There are tunnels. Underneath the building there are big tunnels. I can get you there. I can give you power.” The endoskeleton straightened, still using Fiona’s voice. “I will fix your music box, if you do one thing.”
Big Top could feel the want. It was heavy, suffocating.
“Just one thing. One last thing.” The endoskeleton said. “If the human comes by you. Try and catch him.”
One last thing.
Try. Try and catch him. Try meant that Big Top’s success was based on the attempt, not on the successful capture.
One last thing.
Big Top could do that. He could try to catch the human. He’d be more careful, this time. He wouldn’t hurt him.
One last thing.
If Big Top stayed here. He would shut down for good.
If he helped the not-Fiona, he would probably still shut down for good.
No one could fix him except Edwin, after all.
But… if he helped the not-Fiona…
He’d get to hear his music box again.
See a human again.
Maybe he’d get to hear Fiona’s voice again.
Big Top stuttered out one of his words. The one Fiona had given him.
“p- please…”
Fiona’s voice was cheerful, happy. “Okay, big guy! Let’s do it!”
The situation was hopeless.
Even with the not-Fiona’s help, Big Top just barely made it into the tunnels.
He used some of his power to play his music box. It was a selfish choice, when he had so little to spare, but he did it anyway.
He thinks the real Fiona would have liked it. He certainly liked it.
He was going to shut off soon, but he chased after the human when he passed.
Big Top was more careful, this time.
He didn’t hurt the human, though the human seemed terrified that he would.
Big Top gave it his all. But he came up empty.
He wasn’t surprised.
He had never been good enough. Had never been able to do what he was told as well as he was supposed to.
Big Top crawled into one of the tunnels.
His power was almost out.
He was about to shut off.
It hurt. All the want. Everything he never got to be.
Edwin had said this would be better.
Edwin had lied.
Big Top was never going to see more visitors.
Never going to see Fiona.
Never going to collect enough tickets.
His music box played until he shut off.
One last thing. And he’d blown it.
Just like everything else.
“This is--- incredible find…. Can’t believe--- hidden down here.”
“Yeah--- better- with us… They’ll love him…”
It turned out, Edwin wasn’t the only person who could fix Big Top. Or at least, he wasn’t anymore.
It had been a long time, Big Top had been told, since Murray’s Costume Manor was standing.
Big Top had a new body, now. A new name too.
It was called repurposing and rebranding he was told. He didn’t understand. That was okay.
He got to play music.
All day. Every day. For hundreds of people.
He got to make his own music. These people even liked when he didn’t play the same thing twice.
He had more freedom too.
He never got to go outside, but he was allowed to go anywhere in his area. And his area was huge.
There were tunnels everywhere, giving him easy access to every inch of the place.
He even had little friends. They looked like him. Or, the new him. They could explore every inch of his new home, and tell him about the things he couldn’t see.
They liked music too.
He still couldn’t speak, but that was okay.
He got to play so much music, and he could communicate with his little friends.
Lots of people didn’t even need words to communicate. Music was enough to make everyone who came near happy.
No one yelled at him anymore. No one told him he wasn’t doing a good job.
He made other friends too.
An orange bear, in particular, became one of his friends. The bear was such a nice fellow, and he liked to dance.
Big Top didn’t want anymore. Or, rather, he wasn’t suffocated by it.
He had everything he could want. More than he had ever known he could want.
He was happy, here.
He thinks Fiona would be happy, if she could see him now.
He hopes he never sees Edwin again. He doubts he will.
Big Top DJ Music Man was spectacular.
And he was never collecting another ticket again.