Never Challenge the Clown

It was a cold October night, and for the umpteenth time the two men in black cursed themselves for their stupidity. How could they ever think getting involved with him was a good idea?

“What do you think he’ll do to us?” The one of lesser intelligence asked.

“Shut up. I don’t want to think about it. You just let me do the talking, ok?” The man with the beard irritably lit a cigarette and puffed a few times. It was his coping mechanism in the illicit-activities-ridden life he had led up to this point. He called the shots between him and his partner-in-crime in that life, but at the moment he had all the power of a new born kitten mewing for mercy. Then again, that’s exactly what he would be doing tonight. Mewing for mercy.

They were meeting in a public place, a restaurant with floating lanterns and families out for Halloween, for crying out loud! The bearded man tried to reassure himself that these things would prevent that monster from doing anything….unseemly.

Crack, crack, crack.

The world lost color and both men had misplaced the mechanics of breathing somewhere in the recesses of their memory.

Slowly, the man with the beard turned, ashen-faced. The woman with dark soulless eyes smiled at them, lounging in her tight black dress sitting on the fancy outdoor railing of the restaurant. Her entire being radiated that you were an insect and she was an all-powerful, all-superior goddess. In this moment, neither of the men doubted it. The dark dame was cracking her fingers, the telltale sign that something terrible was going to happen, as it was a habit that always announced the arrival of the only man she had ever followed.

“Oh.” The clean-shaven man rasped, sounding like a fish in desperate need of water.

His legs shaking in their dark trousers, the leader of the pair turned back to face the correct direction. The cigarette fell from his mouth.

The new arrival’s eyes were directed away from him, studying the table. The moment their gazes met, the bearded man would see the insanity within a chained  specter. He knew it. In different circumstances he would be guffawing right now, as the new arrival was dressed in honor of the holiday, in a pure white clown costume, complete with makeup. The fact that he wasn’t guffawing was what kept his health intact.

“So.” A single syllable, softly spoken. Eye contact still hadn’t been made. Electric nerves were screaming inside the pair.

“Don’t you know there are consequences for all actions?” The question was aspirated in a gentle tone as well.

Immediately clean-faced man of the two partners went to pieces.
“We’re sorry! We’re sorry! On my mama’s and grandmama’s graves, we’re sorry! We’ll do anything we want. We never should’ve taken your money! We only wanted to make you happy! I swear! We’ll lick your shoes to make up for it if you want!” He was a complete gibbering wreck, sobbing like a child, bug-eyed like an annoying fly.

“No.”

The stricken men tensed.

“You’ll give me all of your money. You’ll get out of my city tonight. You’ll never contact your family or friends again.” The words were said with complete certainty. They were not requests or even orders, but facts. The sky is blue and blood is red.

Neither of the men dared to respond. The woman they wished they could forget behind them giggled behind a hand, her eyes sparkling.

“Or I will leave you broken shells of men, mere mannequins of what you used to be. You will not even have the ruins of life.” The clown stared into the glass of champagne that had been brought by the waiter, tone still conversational.

Both of the men believed every word. They had seen the fulfillments of such threats up close. Dead-eyed gazes of those who had dared to defy the one in front of them. Guzzling whiskey at all hours, weeping hopelessly in the twilight. The partners had prayed to never have the anger of this one person directed towards them, for nothing could measure that cruelty.

At the lack of instant compliance, the clown finally looked at them.

Bloodshot and completely unhinged.

“O-of course. How reasonable.” The bearded one finally spoke. He grabbed his partner, and the two tripped over themselves as they rushed out of the restaurant. The din of conversation slowly resurfaced in the outdoor seating, although nervous glances were still cast towards the clown sitting there.

The glass of champagne was lifted and toasted towards the black-clad companion, still full of delight as she sat upon the wall.

“To good health.”