Disclaimer - "Mystery Case Files" and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Big Fish Games, Elephant Games, and Eipix Entertainment. I get no monetary benefit from this. My benefit is the enjoyment of dealing with beloved characters. Original characters, however, are mine - please contact for permission before using. This includes Darnell as a defined, fleshed-out character in his own right.
Jokers Wyrd
by DragonDancer5150
Chapter 3 - Goodfellas
Continuing toward what amounted for backstage, they pushed through another pair of door flaps into a space that looked like a cross between an office and a bar. Three clowns turned as the monkeys shuffled in with their catch. Compared to everything else he'd seen, Darnell thought that these three looked almost normal. Almost . . . save for the fact that their eyes were nothing more than white, glowing lamps, like flashlights with frosted lenses. On Darnell's right, one clown perched on the edge of a hot dog cart, a slack accordion held between his hands. On the left, a clown stood with all the air of a bodyguard, hands crossed loosely over the handle of a colorful umbrella propped before him like a walking cane. The center clown sat behind a large executive desk, though the handful of bottles on either side of him, and the rows more on the backlit, glass shelves set into the wall behind him, made him look as much bartender as business mogul. The desk chair was an ornate high-back, though most of its splendor was covered by a pair of massive, knobby, green-skinned hands with long, black nails sharpened to claw-tips, the fingers curling over and around the edges of the backrest from behind. Darnell gulped, not wanting to see the rest of the ogre that must have been crouched down in hiding.
The mogul bartender clown stood and grinned down at Darnell, revealing a mouthful of glass shards for teeth. "Well, well, what have you brought me, pets? A new animal for the collection?" He came around from behind his desk and crouched over Darnell, who was suddenly getting 'The Godfather' vibes. "Too scrawny for a bear or tiger, let alone an elephant. Too short for a giraffe. Hm, maybe a zebra. Those are always fun." He poked and prodded. "My, my, but aren't you just all spindly limbs. Perhaps a giraffe after all. We'll call you a pigmy."
The accordion clown chortled. "Funny, boss. I like it."
"W-who are you people? What do you want?" Darnell had finally found his voice again.
The mob boss clown ignored him, giving the accordion clown a contemptuous glance. "Of course you do." He looked at the monkeys. "Take him to the car while we prepare." He glanced at the bodyguard clown to include him. The bodyguard clown nodded and shifted to follow the monkeys.
The monkeys dragged Darnell to the left and through another tent-flap door. They were once more outside. The monkeys pulled him up to what looked like a Volkswagen Beetle painted by kindergartners, sporting a giant wind-up key off the back where the engine would have been on older models. A clown car, Darnell realized. Of course, it is. He was shoved inside by the monkeys, who then backed off as the bodyguard clown crouched down next to him.
"Well now," the clown murmured with a leer, "can't have you suffocating or something, right? Here." He stepped back and closed the door, pulled a window crank handle from a pocket, and rolled down the window a bit - the hole for the window crank was on the outside of the door. Though the car had only the one door on each side, and a back seat - so that normally it would only have had two windows each - somehow it had three to a side, with a narrow middle window between the front-seat and rear-seat windows. The clown rolled the front window down just enough to tease, enough to reach an arm through, maybe even work his head through, but not enough to escape through. He did the same with the middle and rear windows, then put the crank handle back in his pocket. "There. Now . . . do hold still. This will work better if you do." With that, he pressed his chest to the side of the car, making sure that the plastic flower on his ruffled collar was in the gap at the top of the front window. From it shot a wide spray of what Darnell hoped was water, but as it splashed across the strands that wrapped him, it dissolved them as if with acid. Mercifully, whatever the fluid really was, it did no more harm to him than get him wet.
The clown crouched farther down again to give Darnell a jeering grin as the teen hurriedly brushed the remnants of Silly String from his clothes and scrambled across the seats to press back against the passenger door. As he did, the hip pocket of his jeans caught on the head of the gearshift, the long shaft snapping off at the base. The clown tutted at him, clicking his tongue. His breath gave new meaning to the phrase 'sickly sweet,' reeking of gumdrops and disease. "Now, now, none of that. Not polite to go breaking other people's things without permission."
"Not polite to go kidnapping and holding people against their will, either!" Darnell shot back despite his terror.
"Kidnap?" The clown let out a raucous laugh that somehow sounded like a feral growl. "Who's the intruder here? Not I. The monkeys only bring in trespassers, dear boy. You came to us." His grin widened, his gums embedded with dog collar spikes in place of teeth. "And now it's our turn." He stood and walked back toward the big top, cackling. The monkeys dispersed and faded soundlessly back into the shadows.