"I've never had them before," Carr admitted, trying - and failing - to brush the powdered sugar off his shirt and hands, succeeding only in smearing it into the dark blue cotton.
"Ta," he nodded his thanks, looking round. He trailed his fingers along the edge of the nearest glass case, looking at each object inside.
"I know fairs have deep fried heart attacks and merry-go-rou - sorry, carousels - but do they all have tents like this, too?" He looked over at the older gentleman. This tent was more like the shops he and Mel could spend hours in, filling their small apartment with trinkets and antiques until it was bursting at the seams.