Harmon Leon

"Hell is other people's babies. That's the lesson I learned when I ventured to the Eighth Annual America's Most Beautiful Baby Contest in Phoenix, Arizona. Outside, it's hot enough to fry baby food. But inside the bliss of a beautiful air-conditioned shopping mall, one baby will be judged far more beautiful than all the others, and displayed on stage like a little trained monkey. The grand prize awarded to the winning baby: a brand new car!"

"Adjusting my thick glasses and dropping my half-Chinese Austin Powers accent, I futilely try to defend myself (noting there's nothing worse in the world than being screamed at by a bunch of female celebrity impersonators)."

"I'm stunned. Is this a trick to steal my shoes? Thirty-year carnie vet Wayne-o is offering me, me, a corn dog. I think I've officially been accepted as a fellow carny! We all want acceptance, and maybe that's the allure of the carny life—no matter how big of a freak you are in the outside world, if you work hard enough, you can be accepted as a carny."

"Looking at the time, I can't believe the irony. Expecting a huge reaction, I announce, “Hey everyone, it's 4:20!” No one cares. No one looks up. On a pot farm, it's always 4:20."

"Closer to showtime, the jovial crowd now arrives in droves. Laughing. Smiling. Until they hear the melodic sounds of “This Land Is Fagland,” being sung by small children. With the most vigor, even the tiniest join in, big smiles, swaying their heads like it were the Barney the Dinosaur song. The chubby, red-haired girl actually jumps while singing—she's that happy."