A/n: I do not own ghost hunt
John Brown was juggling.
On his side of the couch a small smile playing on his lips and a light blush painting his cheeks, the priest was juggling three red balls. The frenzied room filled with half-drunk occupants watched in amusement, as the priest kept the three balls in a cycle.
John at that time just juggled without any previous prodding and without anything in their twists of conversations inspiring such an act. He just took three balls from his pocket and threw and caught and threw. The blonde's uncharacteristic act, of course, should be subjected to question under normal circumstances, but the audience was a small group who thought beyond reason as a result of alcohol.
"Waita go" slurred the monk, a sloppy grin crossing his face.
Mai even though having only drunk only half a can was bright red, and beyond conscious control. She whistled at the young priest's surprisingly great juggling prowess.
Ayako raised her newly opened can, in appraisal, while laughing her usual alcohol fuddled laugh. She held the can up unsteadily with her manicured pinky jotting up, spilling some of the light brown liquid in the process.
The medium, who was sitting beside the priest, laughed carelessly, her kimono sleeve unused and forgotten.
"Where'd you learn to juggle like that?" curiosity as proven, never leaves Mai.
John answered in the same shy manner he always did, that he learned it from his father. And when they thought John had finished with that answer they were surprised when the blond continued, with a detailed account of his past life.
The group sat silently as concentrated as their drunkenness could allow, and listened to the tale of the Australian priest, whose past they never even wondered about.
They were not prepared for what they were to hear, that was a definite truth.
John began with the description of his family's circumstance. That they had a normal income and that they were not really poor. Everything remained fine from here. Then he revealed that his father was in fact a ringmaster at a travelling circus, and that his mother, a beautiful woman whose blond hair was the same as his, was a trapeze in the same troop. They fell in love and had three children, who naturally were connected to the circus as they were.
His elder brother, wanted to become a lion tamer. John's eyes were nostalgic. He remembered his brother's first whip and how it accidentally got twirled around a ring of fire on its first usage, which of course brought about his brother's second whip, which suffered the same fate. His brother gave up lion taming, and was now a lawyer in some Australian law firm.
John's elder sister, as he revealed to them, idolized one person in the circus very much, Tanya, the bearded lady of the troop. His sister would splurge her allowance on the latest hair growing concoction made available in the Australian market. She would apply bottles and bottles on her chin and wait in vain for the results. Her chin remained hairless. She gave up her dream, when she found out that Tanya was in fact a Tony. She is now a dermatologist, her years researching on hair growing products sparking her interest in the field.
And now came John's own story. He never intended on becoming a priest, he said solemnly. The truth was that his initial dream was to become a clown, that he never saw himself in vicar clothing instead he saw himself in polka dotted loose jumpsuits, that he never thought he'd learn how to exorcise, but looked forward to shaping balloons into poodles. He would be a clown now in fact if it wasn't for that incident in his past which swerved the course of his future completely.
On a particular circus location, where the group decided to set camp, a ghost of a clown haunted. John was the only victim. The dead clown haunted him every night, and his gruesome death would replay in John's dreams every single time. Then a nearby exorcist came, and the clown rested in peace. The young John forgot all about becoming a clown, and inspired by the priest exorcist ventured of to become one.
Forget Mai's surprisingly tragic past or Naru's twin brother and his hidden 'Oliver Davis' identity.
John. Circus. Clown.
Ayako's beer can dropped on the floor, spilling its unreduced content.
…
A dark clad teen rolled his eyes at the stunned silence.
John grew up in a conventional family, his father an office worker and his mother a housewife. He was in fact an only child. A standard background check uncovered this more believable history; Naru took upon himself to do as always before meeting someone he'll be working with.
The explanation to the priest's story was that there was an overdose of alcohol mixed in his blood flow, which ultimately lead to brain slips. In other words John Brown was drunk, thus the impromptu juggling and the fabricated biography.
There were two conclusions, one was that John Brown was surprisingly convincing liar under the influence of alcohol, two was that his associates are all gullible wrecks when subjected to the same condition.
Naru sighed, why did he even bother?
A/n: Anyway it wasn't as funny as I wanted. Truthfully I wanted the last line to be a bit quirkier but I couldn't think of anything.
This oneshot just suddenly popped inside my head when I tried juggling myself and I thought what if John juggled.
P.S.: I never got this into the story but John learned how to juggle from a missionary from some orphanage so that he could entertain the children. (in my story at least)