Your stomach turns as you second guess why you allowed the fast talker at the front door to persuade you into entering the venue. The scent of woodchips under your feet, the ominous yellow flicker of the gas lights burning; surrounded by your friends you find some bravery in a pint of ale. Just then the lights dim and the calliope music begins to play.

Parting curtains expose a curiously comforting gentleman, with a bellowing voice who walks you through a journey of the odd, the miraculous, and the macabre.

Gentlemen hold your pint, and Gentle Ladies hold your men as you are amazed and astounded by feats that will make your jaws drop and your blood run cold.