A/N: I can't be the only one thinking this after that last chapter. Campbell's soup is an actual company. Also, this takes place while Mana is alive.
Summary: One day the Earl finds a friendly clown on his doorstep, offering him a can of soup to purchase. As part of the money goes to the orphanages, he agrees and the clown goes on his way. But upon closer inspection, the Earl realizes the can came from a certain company. A certain company owned by a certain traveling clown.
._.
Ding dong!
Ding dong!
"Road, could you please answer the door for me?" requested one Millennium Earl. He looked up from his daily newspaper, searching for the most recent tragedies via the media.
The door bell continued to ring, and Road took her attention away from the dolls she was playing with. Understanding that the head of the Noah family was busy with plotting to kill/trick people in the nearby future, she got up to see who was at their doorstep.
"It's probably the milkman," she sighed, exiting the living room and leaving her toys on the floor.
"Do we even have a milkman?" The Earl was only stopping by this house (one of the many Noah hideouts) and wasn't sure if they had ordered milk to begin with. Milk was expensive these days, and he hoped he hadn't subscribed for every hideout. They would go broke in a matter of moments if that was the case.
The ringing stopped with Road answering the door. "Hey, it's for you!" she called out to him, reappearing in the doorway to get him. "It's some kind of charity for an orphanage? The details seem really strange though."
A charity for parentless children? The Earl had always had a soft spot for children, and he didn't see why he shouldn't contribute. "Should I get my wallet?" Because I don't have my wallet. Some man with red hair stole it from me to buy alcohol.
"No," Road sat down on the floor to continue playing with her dolls. "I think you just need to sign up for something, and accept a gift."
"... Well, I can't complain about that." He set his newspaper to the side and stood from his chair.
To see what this was about, the Earl went down the hallway and opened the front door. Standing on their doorstep was a friendly clown, who was holding a gift basket filled with red and white cans. The Earl stared in confusion, but the clown held out his hand for him to shake.
The Earl shook hands with the clown, but his hand was shocked when it came in contact with this trickster's. The clown smiled, showing him the buzzing ring on his finger.
"Hoo hoo, I'm sorry about that," the clown apologized, "but I couldn't resist."
"It's fine," he sighed, "everyone loves a good prank once in a while."
Behind him, Road peeked her head around the corner to watch the exchange.
The familiar-looking clown went on to explain that he was going from door to door trying to raise awareness for the underprivileged children. Apparently he volunteered to dress up in a silly costume with a list and offer cans from a recently-formed (but popular) company that was sponsoring nearby orphanages.
As the clown finished explaining his purpose, he went on to describe what the Earl needed to do to help out the community.
"Just sign your name and address down on this list. If you provide us with that information, we will send you updates on how our mission to aid the children is proceeding," the clown handed him a paper and pen. The sheet had many signatures, impressing the Earl considerably. He scribbled down his name and address, and returned the paper to the friendly volunteer.
"What are the cans for?" the Earl questioned. For the most part of the conversation, he had been staring at this person's face. It looked familiar, very familiar, but he couldn't place where he had seen him before. The voice also reminded him of someone, but he didn't know who that person could be.
"If you purchase a can for one dollar, part of the money goes to the orphanages. The money is used to improve living conditions, including the quality of water and education of the children."
The answer seemed reasonable enough. Luckily, he had a single dollar bill on his person. He gave the clown a dollar, and in return was given a red and white can of soup.
After that, the clown thanked him for his contribution and went on his merry way throughout the neighborhood. The Earl closed the door, and headed to the kitchen for storage. Road followed him, asking about the clown and if he performed any circus acts.
"No, but he did play a prank on me when we shook hands," the Earl responded.
Road pouted. "That's too bad. Clowns are funny when they do those things."
"Hm, I suppose." To be honest, he didn't really like clowns. He thought back to the familiar face as he placed the can of soup in one of the many kitchen's cabinets. "Road, did that man look like anyone to you?"
"Not really," the young girl shrugged. She kept the cabinet open to inspect the can. "Chicken noodle soup?" Rotating the can in her hand, she tapped her finger on the label. "Hey, isn't this by?..."
Suddenly Road's expression went blank.
Wondering what was wrong, the Earl inspected the can of soup more closely.
"What's wrong?" he asked Road, "I don't see anything-"
He stopped.
On the front of the can was the producer's name.
Campbell's.
As in.
Campbell.
Mana D. Campbell's last name.
"That fucker," the Earl growled. In his hand, his grip on the can became so tight that the can exploded. Bits of noodles and chicken went flying everywhere, and the condensed soup dripped onto the floor. But he wasn't concerned about that. "That fucking clown!"
"Wait, it might not be who we think it is!" Road shouted after him, "Maybe it's just a common name?"
"No," the Earl shouted, "I know it's the same guy! He looked familiar for a reason. He's pulling our legs here, don't you see?"
Road watched while the head of the Noah family stormed out of the kitchen. Worried, she followed him back into the living room, where he took the gun that was mounted the wall.
"Road," the Earl's voice was trying to hold back his rage. She nervously stepped away. "I'm going clown hunting."
"Okay," she whispered, her eyes wide as the Earl left. "Be back in time for the family meeting..."
The front door slammed shut behind the Earl.
Clowns dead: 0/1.
._.
The end
A/N: Think about it. Campbell's soup? Mana D. Campbell? It's the perfect crime, and no one even knows.