Bill

William Wayne Cherry
D.O.B April 12th 1972
Residence: Waycross Georgia
Occupation: Grease monkey

William Wayne Cherry was born in Waycross Georgia to a very young mother who could not resist the wooing of a worldly carney who swept into her tiny town. Bill, as his mother and friends call him, does not know his fathers name. He does know his nickname though, Geech, and that he was barking for the yak lady when he crossed paths with Bills mom.
Not entirely surprising, Bill did not go far in life. When he was born his head was even more cone shaped than it is today. His mother filled his tiny cone head with dreams of finding a good freak show and touring as a pin head, earning a respectable living from curious onlookers who would pay just to gaze upon his unique appearance. As a child Bill resembled a road cone, the sort you would see marking off a pothole or reserving a parking space. His orange hair didn't help matters much, and just made him look like a fuzzy orange cone. Hats wouldn't fit right on him, but that was the least of his worries.
The odd shape of Bill's head belied a more serious condition. His brain sat like jello in that awkward mold, and because of that he suffered significant brain damage. Simple tasks like tying shoes, stringing words together, and wiping ones own ass, were difficult hurdles that Bill stutter stepped past on his way through life. To make matters worse, a good freak show never passed through Waycross. Unbeknown to them, freak shows were a quickly dwindling, politically incorrect vestigial appendage of Americas shameful past.
Fortune did smile upon Bill's pointed dome, but not until long after he lost the unsettling orange coat of fur. When Bill finally lost most of his hair, a touring fair passed through Waycross enroute to the much larger and metropolitan town of Valdosta. Bill's mother, who by this time was a bent little lady, dragged her dim witted and comically proportioned son out to the road side. She waved her arthritic and knobby little hands, trying to grab the attention of one of the drivers.
After much discussion, all of which Bill sat quietly and stupidly through, the touring fair took Bill with them on a trial run. Bill was set to be a grease monkey on the Ferris Wheel. His job was simple enough, but to Bill it proved challenging and exciting. He succeeded in the trial run for no other reason than he is an idiot, and could be paid in funnel cake. He was not averse to cleaning up vomit, or hiding mangled bodies of patrons who had been chewed up by the mechanical wheel.
You might be able to find him today. The fair is still touring as far as I know. I don't think they go north of the Mason Dixon line, and usually stick to the rural south, but if you see Bill, don't ride that wheel.