It was never Lincoln Loud's intention to become the manager of a popular comedy duo, it just kind of...happened, the way things sometimes do.

For one thing, Lincoln didn't have a very rich sense of humor. Oh, things made him laugh alright, but not the traditional pie in the face TV cartoon crap that other kids liked. He and Johnny watched this horror movie once and in it, this artist and his girlfriend were arguing over when his latest piece would be done. The dude, sniffing like a cokehead, was all "You don't tell me when it's done, man, I tell you when it's done. You'll be the first to know, baby. I'll find you wherever you are and go in your ear IT'S FINISHED!"

Something about that struck Lincoln as hysterical and he laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks. Johnny just looked at him like he was crazy. Brah, you good?

Yeah, I'm good, I'm pissing myself laughing, aren't I?

There was another horror movie where these two detectives were talking about this serial killer, and one was sermonizing about how they needed to catch him. His partner, in this really stiff, forced way, goes "Y-Yeah! That sob killed my sister! He slaughtered 100 women!"

The absurdity of a random serial killer killing one hundred women, and the detective mentioning his sister being killed literally as an afterthought, sent Lincoln over the edge.

All that to say, he had a warped and bizarre sense of humor. Things like jokes, puns, and banana peels didn't do it for him.

You know, all the stuff Luan Loud liked.

Long before he met Maggie and fell head over heels for her like a teenage schoolgirl for The Beatles (or Dad for Sasha Banks), Lincoln had the biggest crush on Luan Loud. Every time she cracked one of her dumb jokes, he'd laugh himself into an early heart attack. He wasn't laughing because she was funny (she wasn't), he was laughing because she was cute and made him feel giddy and tingly all over. Just being around her made him giggle. Her warm, brown eyes, so full of light and life, her sly little smile when she cracked an extra bad pun, her vivaciousness; she was the type of girl who lit up the room, and Lincoln really dug that. Even now. He no longer had the hots for her, but her upbeat attitude and perky personality was nice. Johnny, Mom, and Dad were all Gloomy Guses, and it was really cool to have someone like Luan on tap.

But now that he was with Maggie, he was no longer so gaga over Luan that he was immune to the rancid quality of her humor. Seriously, puns are the absolute lowest form of humor. He respected her ability to come up with them off the top of her head, but that's like saying he respected someone who could fart on command. Cool that they could do it, but, c'mon, it's still a freakin' fart. Once or twice a week, Luan would drag him over to the Loud house and try her new material out on him. He used to love those weekly comedy shows for one because it gave him a chance to see and spend time with the girl he liked. Now he only did it because he felt bad for her. No one else would humor her, not even Johnny - when she asked them to listen, they all magically had things to do and places to be. She even tried Dad once. Her logic was (probably) that since he likes wrestling, he might like other things that suck.

Have you ever seen a black man go completely white? Lincoln had. "I...I have to rearrange my action figures," he stammered, then fell all over himself to flee. Luan, bless her, didn't realize that he ran from her terrible jokes. She thought he was literally going to play with dolls. Lincoln couldn't blame her, he supposed, since Dad was famous for playing with dolls, but that wasn't the point. He and Sergio hid out under a blanket in the attic until she was gone and Mom shouted the all clear.

Lincoln felt awful for Luan because she was truly passionate about her comedy. She was as dedicated to the humorous arts as he was to making money. And...maybe he was weird...but there's nothing as sad and heartbreaking as someone who loves something so much that they'll give every ounce of their soul to it...only to suck harder than an Orange Cassidy match. He resolved to help her with her material, but she was so headstrong, oh my God. She thought pies to the face were funny and that slipping on banana peels was the height of slapstick gold. Banana peels, man, come on, that's the oldest trick in the book.

You know what she needed? Some partners. You know, a couple of lesser comedians she could slap around and insult 3 Stooges style. The 3 Stooges were awesome. He tried to nudge her in that direction but it didn't quite take. "You want me to...slap Mr. Coconuts?"she asked and arched her brow.

"Yeah," Lincoln said, "it'd be hilarious."

She looked at the dummy, then very gently tapped the side of its wooden face. "Slap," she said dully.

Ugh.

"Okay, maybe not."

She reliably shot down every idea he fed her and nixed anything that she felt would "compromise the integrity of my act." She did bring him onstage once at a bar mitzvah for a little black boy in a wheelchair. She told him to "make yourself up like a clown" so he painstakingly recreated the clown get up John Wayn Gacy used to wear, just to see if she noticed.

She did.

And she flipped.

"You think you're funny, don't you?" she demanded.

"What?" Lincoln asked.

"Dressing up like a serial killer. That's not cool, Lincoln. You're insensitive. Why would you think that's funny?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.

"Yes you do, you're smiling!"

Okay, she him there.

But she got him back onstage when she sprayed in the eyes with seltzer water. Did you know that stuff stings? If you ever see a clown catch a face full of seltzer and then run around like an idiot, they're not playing, they're really in agony.

"Not so tough now, are you?" she asked backstage.

Lincoln was busy flushing his eyes with tap water. "If I wasn't blind I'd kick your butt."

"I'll be waiting."

It was a promise.

Lincoln was raised better than to hit a woman, but it's 2020 and girls want to be treated just like boys, so it was open season. Luan was his friend, though. If it was Johnny or Liam or someone, he'd light them up, but he let Luan skate.

This time.

After that day, Lincoln threw his hands up in defeat. Luan was just going to have to figure things out on her own. Some people out there actually liked her kind of humor, so she had an audience, no matter how small...and childish...and worthy of pity. She just had to find it.

"Maybe you should do daycares," he suggested.

Lil Miss Thang didn't like that, so whatever.

She'd be 'ight.

Only she wasn't 'ight.

At the beginning of the summer, once the Pabstvirus stuff cleared up, she started looking for gigs in town, and not the normal birthday party stuff she'd been doing. Oh, no, she wanted real gigs. She wanted to do her stand-up at restaurants, the community center, and the pet shop. She pounded the pavement in a pair of floppy red shoes and tried everywhere.

And no one wanted her.

Not even the old folks' home.

Depressed and at her wits' end, she came to Lincoln. As soon as he opened the door, she barged in and threw herself onto the couch with a sigh of dejection. Dad's face went milky white again and he rushed up the stairs. "I'm coming, Elizabeth!"

Mom poked her head out of the kitchen. "What?"

She saw Luan, paled, and hurried back into the kitchen before Luan could try anything. "I give up," Luan said with an exasperated sigh. "I'm done. All washed up. Hung out to dry. A has been who never was. I surrender, Linc."

First, Lincoln closed the door and hit the thumblock (because it's 2020, everyone be trippin'). Next, he calmly walked over and sat next to her, the couch groaning under his weight. He picked up the remote and turned the TV off, killing Raw is War just as Undertaker and The Ministry crucified Big Boss Man underneath the Titantron, much to the gaping shock of the fans. "What happened?" Lincoln asked patiently.

Luan sighed. "Okay, first, I went to the coffeeshop and talked to the owner -"

"Tad?"

Luan nodded. "Yeah, his name was Tad. He told me he didn't need a comedian on Friday and Saturday nights. Fine. Whatever. I went to Party Pizza -"

"Was Alex working?"

"Yes," Luan said, "that's who I talked to. She said they don't do live events."

Pfft. "Really?" he asked. "They do live events all the time."

"So next I tried Burpin' Burger."

"Was Leo there?"

"No, some fat white guy greasy hair and glasses."

"Oh, Pat. Me and Johnny are in his DnD group."

Luan sighed. "He said he wouldn't hire me if I was the last clown on earth, then told me to gtfo."

"Yeah," Lincoln said with a sympathetic nod, "Pat's a real jerk. Everyone knows it but no one will say anything because he'll fire them if they buck up."

Burying her face in her hands in the rawest expression of anguish Lincoln had ever seen. "Finally, I went to a street corner, but a cop ran me off."

"What corner?"

"Main and Vale."

"That's Officer Frankfurter's beat."

Luan shot him a dirty look. "How do you know all these people?"

What could Lincoln say? He and Johnny were men about town who were always hustling, always meeting people, always selling them things. They knew everyone. The guy who owned Trill's Comix, the Engineer, that wino who lived behind Quick-Stop, Dr. Anders, the uptight reverend who preached against sin and damnation but secretly visited the cathouse after church on Sundays, Sheriff Watson (all 400 pounds of him), and, jeez, a whole cast of zany characters that made Springfield look like a ghost town.

Out loud, he said, "I just do."

Luan opened her mouth to say something, then perked up. "That's it!"

"What?"

She jumped to her feet with renewed vigor. "It's genius."

"What's genius?" Lincoln asked.

"This is my ticket to the big time."

Okay, now he was getting annoyed. "Spit it out. What are you talking about?"

"You can be my manager."

Lincoln's jaw dropped. "M-Manager? I don't know how to be a comedy manager."

"You just get me gigs," she said.

He started to turn her down, but she gave him big, shimmery puppy dog eyes that he'd have to be totally ice cold to resist. "Alright, fine," he said, "I'll do it. But if you make any money, I want 30 percent."

To his surprise, she stuck out her hand. "You got yourself a deal. Under one condition."

"What?"

"I get a creative control clause in my contract."

They shook, and the moment Lincoln's skin touched hers, a crackling jolt of electricity shot up Lincoln's arm and into the center of his skull.

And not in a good way.

He yanked his hand away and Luan grinned. "Joy buzzer."

"Ow! Do that again, I'm out!"

"Okay, okay," she said, "just trying to keep my act current. Get it?"

Lincoln jabbed his finger at the door. "I'll call you."

Luan hung her head and left.

Two days later, he went into the coffee shop and talked to Tad, the owner, a tall, lanky man in skinny jeans and a scarf. He wore red Buddy Holly glasses with perfectly square frames and a gray knit cap even in summer; he was a coffee, movie, and book snob and sometimes Lincoln wanted to punch him. They were on good terms, though. "I already have a clown act," Tad said.

"Who?" Lincoln asked.

Giggles. Lincoln had no idea who that was but she was performing the next night, so he came down to see her. A short, pudgy girl with curly brown hair, she stumbled and fumbled across the stage for an audience of apathetic hipsters. Lincoln thought her act stank, and from the look of growing panic on her face, she thought so too.

Lincoln saw something in her, though. He saw her and Luan being doofuses onstage together, playing off one another, and he liked it. After the show, he found Giggles backstage at an old fashioned vanity with big light bulbs around the mirror. She saw him in the looking glass. "I'm not signing autographs."

Oh?

"I'm not here for an autograph," Lincoln said. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

"Of course you're not."

"Why would I be?" Lincoln asked. "Your act's not that good."

In the mirror, Giggles' face darkened, then she sighed and hung her head. "I know."

"It's not terrible," Lincoln said. "In fact, I think I know what'll really put you over the top."

She turned in her chair. "What?"

"You need a partner," Lincoln said.

Giggles furrowed her brow. "A partner?"

"Yeah. A more experienced clown who can show you the ropes. Someone you can work together with like all those great clown duos. Laurel and Hardy. Abbott and Costello. Biden and Harris. You know what they say: Two heads are better than one."

A thoughtful frown creased Giggles' face and she stroked her thin. "Hmmmm. Where can I find an older and more experienced clown?"

Lincoln smiled.

And that was how he started to manage Giggles as well as Luan.

Predictably, Luan was not happy. "I told you, Linc, I'm a one woman act."

They were standing in the middle of the bedroom she shared with Luna. Warm summer sunshine cascaded through the blinds and made little slats of brilliance across the floor and the too warm air pressed against Lincoln like a blanket. Luan, face painted white, put her hands on her hips, and her black beret slid down her forehead like it, too, was upset.

"I'm telling you, Luan, this is going to be great, just give it a chance."

Luan crossed her arms and whipped her head away. That was her way of saying talk to the hand.

"Look, Luan," he said soberly, "your act wasn't getting any attention, Giggles isn't all that good on her own. You guys need each other if you want to keep working in this business. Do you want to hang up your big red nose and call it a day, Luan? Do you want to be one of those unfunny Z-List jackasses who wind up providing commentary for World's Dumbest on TruTV?"

Luan's eyes widened and she jerked her head from side to side. "N-No, a-anything but that."

"Then you and Giggles need to work together and build yourself into a classic comedy duo. Otherwise, you might as well hang yourselves out to dry."

"Fine," Luan sighed. "But I'm probably not going to like it."

Lincoln laid his hand on her shoulder. Six months ago, he would have melted, but now all he could think was: Girl bony af.

Two days later, Lincoln called Giggles and Luan together for a practice session in his garage. Johnny sat in because the internet wasn't working and he had nothing else to do. Lincoln was worried the girls wouldn't get along but, much to his relief, they were fast friends, bonding over their mutual love of sucking. They did a two person dance routine that was mildly amusing, but Giggles couldn't get the hang of it and kept missing her cues, stumbling, and otherwise screwing up.

Calling in a favor (and using a coupon he'd been saving for a rainy day), Lincoln got them booked at the coffee shop. Tad didn't want to use them and before the show, Lincoln let them know that they were fighting an uphill battle. "You girls really gotta shine tonight," he said. "Go out there and knock 'em dead."

And boy, did they ever.

Well, Giggles did.

You ever heard that saying about everything that can go wrong, did go wrong? That's what happened to Giggles. During the dance routine, she ripped the seat of her pants; when Luan sprayed her with seltzer, her eyes were open and she went crazy running around in pain; at one point she fell into the curtain backing the stage and tore it down. In the closer, she and Luan mounted unicycles and pulled off an intricate figure 8 maneuver.

Or tried.

Because Giggles lost control and smashed into Luan. They both fell off and the thud of their bodies hitting the stage trembled through the floor and into Lincoln's teeth. "Ow, you freaking idiot!" Luan yelled.

In other words, the night was a trainwreck...but the hipsters loved it. Ironically. Or something. Lincoln didn't know, those people didn't make any darn sense to him, but they snickered, pointed, laughed, and pounded the tables. At the end, they even gave those two chuckleheads a standing ovation.

"I don't get it," he said to Giggles and Luan as they walked home under the soft electric glow of the lamps up and down Main.

"Well, I was in top form," Luan said, "and I carried the day."

Lincoln waved her off. "No, no. I think they liked watching Giggles mess up. And how you kept getting mad. It's kind of like smarks with wrestling."

Both girls looked at him funny.

"Well, wrestling's fake. Most fans know that. It's like...an acrobatics show with a storyline. Smarks - fans who know it's a work and follow the backstage, real life stuff - love it when real things make it into the ring. Like that time Scott Stiener ranked on Ric Flair just totally at random. He was supposed to talk about how great he was or something and use the chance to say a bunch of stuff about Ric Flair because he legit hated Ric Flair. Flair's feelings got hurt and they told Stiener to either apologize or take a two week suspension. He took the suspension. The smarks ate it up. They love peeking behind the curtain...just like those hipsters liked seeing you get legit upset with Giggles being a -"

He was going to say moron, but Giggles looked at him, and he changed course.

"So from now on, we have to do worked shoots."

"A what?" Luan asked.

"Something that looks like it's not part of the act but really is. Like you calling Giggles a name or acting like she messed up when she didn't."

Luan looked at him like he was crazy. "You're a strange boy, Lincoln."

"Yeah? Well, this strange boy is going to make you and Giggles famous in this town."

Though she was jaded from a long string of bitter failures, Luan was passionate, and where the river of passion flows, hope springs eternal. A little light crept into her eyes and one side of her mouth twitched up into a lopsided grin at the idea of fame. "You're going to have money."

"Yeah," she breathed.

"You're going to have fans."

"Fans," Giggles said in drawing wonder.

"You're going to have women!"

They both looked at him funny.

Whoops, got carried away in the moment. "I mean...men. You're going to have men."

Luan and Giggles both looked unsure. "I don't know," Giggles said, "I'm not really ready to date."

"Yeah, me either," Luan said.

Oh, Jesus. "It's an expression," Lincoln said, "you're both going to be very popular is what I mean."

"Now that I am ready for," Giggles said.

"Me too."

"Great," Lincoln said, "it's settled."

Phase one was developing a routine that blurred the lines between schtick and reality. Lincoln forced Luan and Giggles into his garage every afternoon for practice and brainstorming. Johnny drifted in and out and gave his opinion on this or that, but for the most part, they were alone, three people obsessed with succeeding, Luan and Giggles for the fame and Lincoln just to prove something to himself.

"Look, I know you guys like doing that lame Nickelodeon kidcom crap, but we're playing to an audience of adults and they don't want two chuckleheads cracking squeaky clean knock knock jokes. We gotta be edgy. We gotta have attitude. We gotta be RAW."

"Yeah!" Luan and Giggles cheered.

They came up with an edgy act that was sure to get the ratings they desired.

Their first night at the coffee house came the following night. Lincoln wore a Giants jersey and a leather jacket, his hair slicked back from his head. He spotted Tad at the smoothie bar and went over. "Linc, how's it going?"

"Hey, bro, what's up, bro?" Lincoln asked in a thick New York accent. "Look, bro, we got an awesome show for you, bro. I call it Crash TV."

Tad lifted his brow. "Uh...okay."

Ten minutes later, the place went dark, then Giggles and Luan came out on unicycles. They crashed into one another and Giggles - bless her heart - took a big bump off the stage, landing on a table that then collapsed. Everyone gasped. "Nice work," Luan said like she was angry. "You ruined our act."

Giggles got to her feet. "Sorry."

"I'm sick of hearing that. You screw everything up."

"Screw you, Luan," Giggles said. She climbed onto the stage and bucked up to her partner. "You do nothing but cry and complain. I'm sick of it."

The audience watched, mesmerized.

Suddenly, Luan and Giggles were rolling back and forth on the floor, slapping and pulling each other's hair. Giggles got to her feet, and Luan kicked her in the stomach. Giggles flew back and landed on a table, breaking it. She grabbed a sliver of wood and went after Luan. Lincoln waited a few seconds, then ran on stage. "Bro! Bro, knock it off, bro, this isn't in the script!"

Luan slapped him (harder than they practiced), and Giggles speared him Goldberg style. "That's for being a sexist," she said.

"And a racist," Luan added and dropped an elbow on him.

While he crawled off to "die" in a corner, Luan and Giggles launched into a bunch of woke jokes about Trump and Republicans that got the hipster kids raising the roof. By the end of their set, word of mouth had traveled far and wide and the coffee shop was packed. "We did it, bro," Lincoln said as they walked home.

"Drop that accent," Luan said.

"Yeah, it's annoying."

The next night, they altered the routine a little because Luan was sore and didn't wanna take any bumps. Giggles, ever the team player, agreed to take them for her. She slipped, fell off the stage, got punched in the face, and took a chair shot to the back. She popped the place when she came out in orange face paint and a Trump wig. The hipsters loved it and by the end of the night, they were chanting her name.

Two nights later, he had Giggles dress as Biden and Luan as Trump, and they held a mock debate in the park, drawing a crowd that seemed to grow and grow. Luan said "Believe me, it's going to be yuge," a lot, while Giggles rambled out of her head and walked around sniffing people. The crowd loved her and cheered her name again. Lincoln didn't notice the green cast to Luan's face.

Before long, Two Chuckleheads was being booked all over town. Everyone wanted them to do their act. Giggles was the breakout star and Lincoln gave her a huge push. Things were going great...then Luan started showing up late to practice, talking back, and refusing to do things. "I have creative control over my character," she'd say and cross her arms. Every time the fans mobbed Giggles but ignored her, she'd get all mad. "It's not fair," she said one time.

"Take a few bumps then, bro," Lincoln said, "that's why they like her, bro."

The next night, Luan tried and wound up twisting her ankle.

From there, things went from bad to worse. She used her creative control to get all the best lines and bits for herself then started asking to do more solo stuff. She whined. She cried. She made so much trouble because she was jealous that Lincoln quit the act. Giggles talked him into coming back and it was only for her that he did. She meant it. She busted her butt every night for this trope. She did the work Luan wouldn't. That's why she was over.

On Friday night three weeks later, they played to a packed house at the coffee shop. Luan and Giggles were supposed to have a match, as Trump and Biden respectively. Giggles was going to win. At the last minute, Luan changed it. "Creative control," she said with an evil smirk.

Oh? It's going to be like that?

Fine.

Lincoln and Giggles went out onstage and Lincoln told Giggles to lie down.

She did.

Luan came out, saw, and put her hands on her hips. "Really?"

"You want the win so bad, take it, bro," Lincoln said.

SIghing, Luan walked over and put her foot on Giggles' chest.

Lincoln counted. "There, bro, you win," he said.

"This is why this act is in the darn shape it's in," Luan said, "bullcrap like this."

She wheeled around and walked away.

The crowd was silent.

Three weeks of constant crap from Luan bubbled up to the surface and Lincoln flipped.

"Three weeks ago, I left Two Chuckleheads…and quite frankly, I didn't know if I was gonna come back. And the reason I didn't know if I was gonna come back or not is because from day one that I have been in Two Chuckleheads, I 've done nothing, nothing but deal with the bullcrap of the politics behind that curtain. The fact of the matter is, I've got a girlfriend, I've got a family at home, and I really don't need this crap. But let me tell you the reason why I did come back. I came back for Giggles, who busts her butt night in and night out for Two Chuckleheads."

A couple people cheered, some booed. "I came back for you people. I came back for everyone who cares about this act. You know who doesn't care about this act? Luan Loud."

Boo. Hiss.

"Cause let me tell you people what happened out here on this stage tonight. All day long I'm playing politics with Luan Loud, because Luan Loud tonight wants to play her creative control card. And to Luan Loud, that meant that tonight in the middle of this stage, when she knew it was bullcrap, she beats Giggles. Well guess what, Luan got her wish, Luan got the fame and attention she wanted and she went the hell home, and I promise everybody or else I'll go in the goddarn grave, you will never see that piece of crap again!"

Boos, cheers, catcalls.

"Luan, you skinny, afro-having doody-head, kiss my grits!"

He stormed out and left too.

At home, he sat in the garage, drinking Chocolate Cherry Cola and seething in silence. Johnny came in and sat next to him. "Dude, that was harsh."

"You were there?"

"Yeah. I was. You went full Vince Russo on her. In fact, you're acting and dressing just like him. This whole thing is melting your brain."

"Bro, I -"

"Shut up. Luan got jealous. So what? She works really hard and everyone was paying more attention to Giggles. Her feelings were hurt and she felt bad about herself. I thought you'd get that, instead you basically killed her. Good job."

Lincoln started to argue, but it was true. He should have been more understanding of where Luan was coming from. Instead, he was lazy and ignored it. Now he felt bad. "You should go talk to her."

"Yeah," he sighed, "I should."

He went across the street and knocked on the door. Lori answered. "Luan here?" he asked.

"Upstairs."

Lincoln thanked her, went up stairs, and found Luan in her room. She saw him and narrowed her eyes. "Look," he said, "I'm sorry, I was really insensitive, okay? I get that you were jealous of Giggles -"

"I wasn't jealous," Luan said, "what's there to be jealous of? Sh sucks."

"Yes you were," Lincoln said. "It's okay. I should have been more understanding but I was a jerk. You've worked really hard to get where you are and seeing someone else get popular while you got ignored must have been a real gut punch."

Luan opened her mouth, then closed it and turned away. "Yeah," she mumbled, "kind of."

"I'm sorry," Lincoln said again, "I just wanted both of you to succeed. I got carried away."

Luan nodded. "I'm sorry I was a butthead. I should have been more mature about it."

They hugged.

Two Chuckleheads broke up shortly thereafter but Luan and Giggles remained friends. And to this day, people in Royal Woods talk about Lincoln's sick promo on Luan Loud at the Bash at the Coffeehouse 2020.

THE END.