"There's no room for jugglers in my circus" tells the tale of a young man's drug-addled youth misspent in Borehamwood, where cheap gossip was rife, "friends" were just ships passing in the night, and dreams remained just that. Given the young man's drug habit, his involvement with gangsters, violence and prison seems inevitable. Cookster dissects the psyche of personalities fuelled by drink, drugs and power, and draws colourful sketches of the different types of gangster from "the Real McCoy", a highly influential "gentleman" who practises a code of honour among thieves, to the "plastic gangster", a "wannabe" who has all the bluster but none of the power. Despite everything, there is light at the end of the tunnel for the narrator, as he retains his hopes for the future, and keeps his aspirations alive amid the chaos. And all the time the story is fuelled by cocaine, the devil's dandruff.