Paul was born into a family of famous circus performers roaming the midwest. From his earliest days, he learned to be an acrobat, a juggler, an animal trainer and lion tamer. When he "came of age" at 6, he was told to develop an act of his own. At first, he thought he was especially suited to be a clown, since he enjoyed putting on and wearing make up (something that, combined with an extreme foot fetish, would get him into trouble later in life) but clowns were expected to make people happy, and Paul's humor was based more in the realm of sarcasm and finger puppets, which prior to the advent of big screen TV simply didn't translate well to an audience more than 5 feet away.
He knew that if he could not find his niche with the circus before he turned 8, he would be forced to leave. He had seen others turned away, the ceremonial human cannon shot into the "real world"... he wanted none of it.
He grew despondent, finding nothing that seemed to combine entertainment for others with his own desire to laugh at inappropriate times and point accusingly for no apparent reason. He found that he had a real talent for turning the giant heaps of animal dung into useful household items, but he was never able to sell any of his "fragrant furniture" as he called it.
Wandering the grounds one evening, he found himself alone in the musician's tent, facing the big pipe organ for the first time. He touched it. It was solid, not soft like his dung creations. It made noise instead of odor, it attracted people instead of driving them away with it's powerful stench. Could it be this was his calling? He sat on the wooden bench and began hitting keys. At that moment, "B3 Bertha, the Fattest Organist on Earth" walked in on Paul. Seeing him at her treasured organ, her first impulse was to crush him under the weight of her collosal thigh, but seeing the look of enchantment on his face, she decided to let him live and take him as an apprentice.
    Apprenticeship was hard for Paul. He started as the Pumper, squeezing the bellows that blew life into the huge organ's pipes. Wedged between the bellows and Bertha's bloated body, he would gasp for air while pumping for hours at a time. He would watch her fat fingers as they moved surprisingly fluidly over the keys, and he learned. In his off hours, he would study music, and theory and how to be a contortionist. Unfortunately for Paul, something most unexpected happed. Bertha fell madly in love with him. Not sharing those feelings with the gigantic bloated biped, Paul decided he must finally leave the circus after all. While performing in Worcester Mass. one night, Paul struck out on his own. He was taken in by the friendly owner of a music store where he lives and spends his days even now.
    He has never forgotten the circus or the lessons it taught, and he missed the feelings of being surrounded by the organized anarchy that circus life presented him. Finally, he found The Valves, the one band in the area that most resembled the circus he missed. Even the bass player looked a bit like Bertha. This was what he'd been searching for. Here he could play the organ and still laugh at inappropriate times and point accusingly for no apparent reason. Paul was home!