Gerry Cottle, a stockbroker's son, ran away to join the circus when he was just fifteen. He started learning his trade by cleaning up after the elephants in small family-run shows and, when he wasn't chasing girls, he progressed to erecting tents and being a very bad clown. Within a few years he had married into one of the oldest circus dynasties and started his very own circus, moving towards his ambition of owning Britain's biggest circus ... 'A romp of a memoir of the circus supremo, packed with tales of custard pies, cocaine addiction, errant clowns, crocodiles' mouths, beautiful girls and elephant shit!' The Bookseller