As a boy born and bred in Iowa, it would seem likely that Riley Finn would enjoy the hokum charm of carnivals.
He didn't.
There was something unnervingly frivolous about carnivals. It may well be an example of his rigid military mentality at work, but he just couldn't mentally check out long enough to enjoy the charm.
That said, with the carnival's arrival to York, Riley couldn't help but go. Admittedly, it was partly suspicion. Living in Sunnydale had taught Riley that new elements often brought new dangers, but sometimes they also merely meant a welcome break. So, while he was wary, he appreciated that he was able to be out in the daylight. No demons, no blood, just crisp autumn air.
...and funnel cake.
After all, he was an Iowa boy.
Shoveling some of the powdered sugar-laden dough into his mouth, Riley wandered into the CURIOSITIES tent. He figured, at the least, it would be a lark to see what the carnival folk thought to be "oddities."
Licking a some white, sweet powder off his finger tip, he looked around.