Trumpelstiltskin

The Elephant was morose.  His followers did not love him.  True, they helped him control two of the Great Circus’ three rings, but the grandest ring of all eluded him.  “How I dream of living in the Gilded Palace in the Center Ring!” he said.  The Gilded Palace was the residence of the Circus Master.  The Elephant could live in the Gilded Palace if his followers would place him there, but his followers did not love him and their friends did not trust him.  “I could live in the Gilded Palace if only my followers and their friends loved me,” said the Elephant.

Suddenly, in a cloud of sulfur and expensive cologne, there appeared a strange, impish creature with hair like a haystack, a pricey suit that fit him like burlap stuffed with cotton, and a long, red tie that lapped against his shoes.  “You want your followers to love you, do you?” asked the straw-haired Imp.  “I can make them love you, as well as their friends.  So many will love you that you will live in the Gilded Palace forever!”

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