Not your ordinary flea-market:
Some came dressed in black vests and bowler hats cut from parchment; others, trailing gowns of tinsel, pirouetted and leaped across the stage as a symphony of crickets played triumphantly. Every flea, from the most haughty princess to the pauper wearing not even a tatter of decoration, came to the execution, where the paper figure of a human hung in effigy. This was every human, but also a human of the very worst sort - his hands misshapen, his legs ending in clumsy duck feet, his arms dangling impotently, his eyes soulless black dots, his mouth empty of words and molars. The human was charged with the felony of exterminating fleas. He should hang today and forever; any flea who didn't agree was guilty of betrayal.
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