The inside of The House of Freaks holds true to the shabby promise of the exterior. It's spartan, but for the various freaks. You notice that the northwest corner of the tent is partitioned off by a silver curtain that hangs in grime-streaked shreds. An unpleasant blue light seeps through a rip in the canvas on the south wall. Peeling black paint marks out a doorway on the eastern wall; in better days, the scattering of faded pink and green sequins lushly decorated the door-flaps in glittering stripes, and the neon arrow calling attention to the entrance glowed with a violet luster. The lacings that hold the southwest corner of the tent have partially rotted away, and the canvas hangs open near the ground.

The Tattooed Lady is standing on a platform in the center of the tent, stifling the occasional yawn. The Critic is ensconsed in a a battered leather armchair to the right of the Tattooed Lady's platform, looking rather out of place.