The Great Roses War was the best thing that ever happened to my business. Once the mutated roses calmed down and stopped attacking people, I was able to herd a large group of them up. Now I’m training them to perform tricks so that the Grand Rose Circus can head on the road. It’s going to be a spectacular show, especially now that the roses actually move on their own. Before the Great Roses War, the whole show was done with strings and mechanics. It’s working much better now.
My business plan is basically to get people to come and see the show, then sell them standard roses online as a souvenir. They’ll be dying to get a memento after watching a series of living roses jumping through a hoop of fire or performing incredible feats of acrobatics. I’m sure that after a few weeks on the road we’ll basically be famous.
A few of the climbing roses have been giving me trouble, though. I’m not sure they’ll be trained in time for our first performance. They sit in their dressing room all day, demanding a ritual sacrifice in the form of a llama. How am I supposed to get that? I hate it when actors have unreasonable demands. The David Austin roses have been playing up too, unhappy with their soft drink supply because I got them Pep instead of Cuke. There’s no difference. The two are exactly the same drink, but they don’t care. I think they might just be saying it so that they don’t have to practice. Maybe it’s time I pulled out the fire whip and chased them onto the stage. Show them I really mean business.
We’ve got one week before our first show and I’m not going to let anything get in the way! The Grand Rose Circus must go on! There’s a lot more at stake here than money. We’ve got a reputation that I’ve boasted about for hours on end to book us these shows. I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.