The P.D. Mortis grand pandemonium night carnival, History Repeats Itself. Imported from Wheaton, this subsophomoric effort attempts to eulogize America’s lost freak shows. But the somnambulant cast, exhibiting all the showmanship of parking garage attendants, do little but stuff themselves into cheap costumes and settle center stage while an emcee stumbles through notes written on three-by-five cards. Despite a tuxedoed leviathan geek eating live crickets and pounding nails up his nose, the opening performance failed to elicit even a single clap after the final blackout.