“The problem,” Pilsudski said, chomping on his cigar, “is that people don’t come for the tumbling.”

“You’ve heard the cheering during our act,” Warmack said. “Don’t try and tell me that’s not real.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Pilsudski continued. “The tumbling’s part of the experience. But people don’t come to the circus for highwire acts anymore. They come for elephants, lions, clowns, and the sideshow. That’s what they remember, and that’s what they ask for by name. Not the tumblers. You hear cheers? Yeah. Listen during the clowns or the critters and tell me which is louder.”

“What are you saying?”

Cigar smoke wreathed Pilsudski’s features. “I’m saying that, if you and your troupe want to continue on, I expect things to be jazzed up. The weakest link breaks the chain, you know. You’ve got my leave to try some new angles as you will, but if things stay as they are…next dry spell, you’re out of here with all the other tumblers and I use the money to get another elephant.”