Tally, The Clown From Hell!; Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

     Tally the Clown was getting pissed; he was out in the parking lot of ‘Big Jim’s House of Guns’, and the sweat was rolling down his clown pants, and making him itch, something  fierce.  Already, a family of 4 had hurriedly left, when they’d seen him with his hand down his pants, trying to relive the nasty itching.   The mother had tried to cover the 2 little kids’ eyes, as they hurried to their car.  The father came at him, but with Tally’s first punch had quickly reconsidered his position, and had slunk away, joining the rest of the family at their car, and soon, Tally was watching the car, with the angry, but cowardly, father’s raised middle finger waving at him from his upraised hand, squeal out of the parking lot.  This job blew, but for right now, it was all he had.   

 

     An hour later, and itching even worse, a car full of drunk b******’s pulled into the lot.  Out of the rolled-down car window, he heard,

     “Hey clown; why don’t you turn one of them guns you’re hawking, on yourself?  Believe me, you’d be doing us both a favor!”

     Tally replied, “Have another beer, there, ace; it couldn’t hurt your lame-a** fricking put-downs!”

     Immediately, the car full of drunk idiots slammed on its brakes, and Tally watched several guys coming at him. 

 

     The school bus full of Sunday schoolers singing songs cruised down the city streets on their way back to their church.  It had been a wonderful day so far, with the summer sun beating down, and with their bellies full from the picnic on the banks of the river.   Joy filled the hearts of each of them, especially Mrs Hooseman, who had planned this very successful outing.  Showing the kids that being nice to others was her goal, and so far, it had been a smashing success.  As the bus passed other cars, or was itself passed, the kids all waved, and were rewarded with waves in kind.  Yes, a very good day, that has seen people at their best!thought Mrs. Hooseman.  Just then, when the bus was passing a gun store, she saw a crowd of men exchanging punches with a clown.  As luck would have it, the stoplight turned red, and the bus came to a stop, right across from the gun shop with the fight.  With the hot weather, the buses’ windows were rolled down, and the kids, along with Mrs. Hooseman, where treated to,

     “Eat me, you b******s!” from the clown, and,

     “You clown-b*****d!” from someone among the angry group of guys. 

     The kids and Mrs. Hooseman watched slack-jawed until the light changed, and their bus pulled away from the melee.

 

     Where was he?  Tally the Clown drooled blood from his mouth, as he blinked, and tried to remember why he was lying on the cement.  Just about then, a man came out of the business in who’s parking lot Tally was lying, and said,

       “Tally, I just received a phone call in my office.  They called to inform me that a clown was duking it out with several others in our parking lot.  I simply can’t have this.  I’m afraid my idea was wrong about you steering customers into the store; in fact, it’s the complete opposite.  You’re driving people away; I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go.”

      Bart then remembered, and replied hotly, “You’re firing me?  Why you c..k...” and he lunged at Roscoe Calisto, grabbing him by the throat, and pin-wheeling him around, sent him flying down to the pavement of the parking lot.

 

     People enjoying a cool beverage after a stifling hot day at work, in the air conditioned coolness of the Crazy Tankard Tavern, were treated to the sight of a clown storming through the door, shouting,

     “Give me a fricking beer!”  As he was shouting this, he tripped and went down to the cool linoleum of the tavern floor. 

     “It sure isn’t my fricking day!”  Apparently, he’d tripped on his floppy, oversized clown shoes, and plummeted to the floor. 

 

     The angry clown sat alone, swilling cold beer, and staring out the window.  Now what?

 

 

     

 

Reviews

[char]

The first paragraph was funny. Ew, Mike, ew. I actually kind of feel bad for the guy...I still can't get over the idea of a clown with guns. That should be my next surrealism painting.

[Michael Stevens]

Anna, I just found this comment today, so a late thank you!