A/N: This was supposed to be a 250-word drabble, but it got a bit out of hand. This story is for MaleficentKnits, who won a drabble from me in the Support Stacie auction. Thank you for your generosity!

MaleficentKnits asked me to write her a story about Alice ridding the world of clowns. Here you go, sweet muffin.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer probably thinks clowns are cool, or something.

Invincible: Theme from The Legend of Alice Cullen

I have seen the face of Satan, and he was wearing a squeaky red nose, rainbow-colored wig, and absurdly large shoes. It was at my neighbor's birthday party when I was seven. I don't remember a lot about being human, but I can still picture that disturbing white kabuki-like makeup, the painted lips extended around that mouth like a dirigible. I peed right down my tights under my pretty party dress because I was sure he was going to eat me alive.

Ironic really, when you consider that I now have the speed and strength to pop his head like a whitehead on Bella's face. I'm the predator now, he the prey.

Even invincible, I still am terrified of clowns. Last week, Bella wanted me to take her to McDonald's, and God help me if that statue of Satanic Ronald McDonald by the Drive-Through didn't make me want to let my bowels run like a river. I'm a vampire and all, but sometimes you still feel a human urge to shit your pants.

For the record, I did not shit my pants.

Vampires don't do that.

If we did, though, I suspect I'd end up with my La Perla panties filled with sparkling sugarcubes of crystallized vampire shit. It would be beautiful.

But as I said, I didn't do that.

We don't do that.

No, really, we don't.

Okay, I'm sorry I brought it up.

Anyway, as my marble colon twitched and ground against itself (making Bella ask, "What's that weird noise? Is something wrong with the car?"), I decided I finally knew my mission in life (or, rather, in afterlife). I would save all the children from being terrorized. No child would ever scream again because of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? makeup, the Overalls of Atrocity, violence masked as entertainment. I know, Carlisle wouldn't approve, but … I mean, he let Edward go off and do his Dexter-I-kill-evil-people thing way back when. And, what, he's going to have a double standard just because I'm a girl?

Clowns are fucking evil; that's all I'm saying.

I knew the circus was in Port Angeles for the next two weeks. I ran all the way there, trying to psych myself up to confront the garish faces, the sinister smiles. The physical exertion felt great.

I saw him leaning against the circus trailer, in full makeup but only his satiny balloon pants on. The pants were held up by suspenders over his dirty wifebeater, and he was taking big swigs from a bottle of something—pure grain alcohol, probably, based on the nail polish remover aroma wafting from his pores.

I sauntered right up to him. I could have done it silently, stealthily, but this was about me facing my fear. Looking it right in the face and punching it in the gut.

"Hey, little girl," the demon slurred as he spotted me. "You wanna smell my trick flower?"

I wanted to turn and run all the way back to Forks, but I started channeling Pat Benetar's "Invincible (Theme from The Legend of Billie Jean)."

I smiled as he stumbled toward me. I could feel the venom rising in my throat like bile. I fought my urge to dry-heave; I held my ground.

He started to sing "Pop Goes the Weasel," and when he got to the "POP" part, I didn't give him the chance to jump or try to frighten me. Instead, I sprang.

I snapped his fucking head up and off like he was a Pez dispenser. A terrifying, boozed-up Pez dispenser.

His blood tasted like circus peanuts and alcohol, and I staggered all the way back home. I might have seen a pink elephant; I'm not sure. That dude was tanked.

Drunkenly weaving my way back to Forks, only one thought echoed in my throbbing head: One clown down, a million to go.

I grinned, because I had eternity on my side.