050 - slow possibility
Ralph had found a decent enough spot. He dropped his equipment down to the ground. There was plenty of good foot traffic in this area, yet it wasn't crowded with other buskers. He had some room here and a decent enough chance at getting his message across.
He cooly unfolded the little platform he intended to stand on. The legs each popped into place with a neat little click. Ralph tested it a bit by hopping onto it and applying a bit of pressure. He swung his hips slightly from side to side, making sure that the platform could support his weight from any angle.
Ralph didn't want it to come collapsing down on him while he was performing. That would be embarrassing.
All seemed to be working properly though, so the tall man with long black hair continued his setup. Upon the platform he laid out a little black briefcase and flipped the latches open. Inside were his primary tools that he intended to use for the performance. These tools consisted exclusively of many stainless steel teaspoons.
They all shined brilliantly as Ralph unraveled the white linen surrounding them in the briefcase. He chose one of them, and picked it up. The man inspected it carefully, gazing into his own concave reflection on one side, and then flipped it over, and gazed into his convex self on the other.
Yes, this one would do, he ultimately decided. He did not latch the briefcase closed again, just in case this spoon failed him. Ralph wanted to have quick access to his backups. He just lightly folded the linen back across them, so that they might not become dirty from all the random street pollution in the air.
Cleanliness, after all, was one of Ralph's paramount priorities.
There was just one thing left to do. The most important part in any street performer's setup. The placement of the money collection apparatus. In Ralph's case, he preferred to use an upturned top hat carefully placed at the edge of his little platform.
He had toyed with using a simple jar for people to dispense their tips into, but the mouth was simply too small and not conducive to people casually dropping a dollar or a few coins in as they passed on by. Alternatively, empty instrument cases seemed to be a popular choice of his brethren on the streets. Ralph felt they suffer from the exact opposite problem of the jar--they are much too big, which made people reluctant to leave anything at all, since it seems liked whatever contribution they might make would be too small.
And his performance required no instrument, regardless. True, he had his briefcase which contained his spoons, but he would not want money sullying the purity of his spoons. So he acquired a top hat, and it seemed to work decently enough.
Well, that was about it, Ralph figured. He was ready now. He didn't worry about attracting a crowd. Soon enough they would come, once he started.
He rolled back the sleeves of his shirt on his left arm, exposing his forearm. Spoon in his right hand, he began to rub it across the smooth skin on the inside of his arm. The smooth back of the spoon glided effortlessly across the creamy flesh.
Onlookers began to stare as they passed on by, wondering why this man was rubbing a spoon against his arm while standing on a stage.
Then Ralph did it. He dug the spoon in to his arm. Blood quickly began pouring from the wound as he continued to use the spoon to pull out a scoop of his forearm. Finally, he separated a large chunk of flesh and muscles and held it out in front of him in the spoon.
Without batting an eye, Ralph quickly moved the spoonful of his arm to his mouth and ingested it. All the while, blood was pouring out of the gaping hole in his left arm.
There was quite a large crowd now. He would be making money tonight.