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Clowntergeist [Bounty Log]
Another two weeks, another bounty. Ted had to wonder at the incompetence of the Everglade forces when a clown--a ghost clown--was at large for more than five minutes. Aren't they supposed to be the most colorful, obvious performers in existence?
He'd done the usual busywork of man tracking. Finding commonalities between the victims, following up with people who might know any suspects. Ted had worked in Everglade so long, he'd practically memorized the phone book. His searches eventually led him to a dilapidated hovel of a home, smelling of decay and alcohol. Ted knew a little about clowns; specifically their wasting souls and depressive personalities. Few acted from any natural happiness.
He invited himself in. The suspect was at home, sitting in a chair facing the doorway. He was expecting visitors.
"Don't worry, I'm not really a ghost. Everyone needs a schtick, ya know?"
"I very much don't. Come on, I'm bringing you to the authorities."
"What? You mean Grell and her deputies? You know those people are sicker than me, right? You have any idea how much blood is on their hands?"
"...Yes."
"So you're just picking on the little guy. The guy who doesn't have the resources to cover up his crimes."
"Yes."
The man, skinny yet with a pot belly, burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! Story of my life. Man, ain't that the way? Here, pull up a chair, friend."
"Excuse me?"
"Man, you need to lighten up. I know who you are, 'Mr. Snuffles'. It's fine; won't try anything. Just want to talk, share some laughs. You wouldn't be so heartless to refuse a guy's dying wish, wouldja?"
For reasons Ted couldn't explain and likely never would, he obliged, gripping a recliner that had seen better days and dragging it over next to him. He took a seat.
"You probably wanna know why I did it, huh?"
"I admit I'm curious. But then, as far as I know, none of you dolls have souls. I'm rather more curious as to why the doll maker made you quite so morbid."
"Haha, harsh! I mean, I guess you could say I'm a black comedian. Not, like, skin, but, you know. Subject matter."
"You find murder funny?"
"Well, yeah! I mean, slapstick is funny. Violence is funny. You've seen the cartoons. Shit's priceless. Can you honestly say you don't find humor in beating the snot out of guys like me?"
Beneath the goku uniform, Ted grinned.
"Why, yes, I think I can."
That earned more laughter than it should have.
"HAHAHAHAHA! Oh man, you're good. That's great stuff. Grammatical pedantry. Classic. I mean, I just whack people, but that's me. I'm lowbrow. I could never be a court jester, you know? Mocking kings and all that."
"A dangerous profession."
"Right? I mean, we don't really have those in Everglade, but ya know. I don't really have the courage. Clowning on people in authority. I mean, murdering a guy is pretty ho-hum. No one really cares about, like, you know. Physical death. But poke someone's ego? An important person's ego? The world would go up in flames!"
"You think murder a tamer thing than targeted mockery?"
"'Think' implies I'm not sure. Hell yeah, man. When's the last time you saw any real, honest-to-goodness lampooning of powerful people? Hell, of anyone? Everyone takes themselves so goddamn seriously. It's a problem."
"I'd agree with you, but-"
"'That would make us both wrong'? Sorry; heard 'em all before."
The man slouched in his chair.
"It's this city, man. It uh...really sucks."
"I'm aware."
"Yeah, yeah I know you are. You've seen the worst of it. That's kinda why I took up clowning, ya know? Try and...I dunno, fight back I guess. Make people smile. Just...give 'em something that isn't this. This constant, droning, on-and-on misery of death and decay."
"Murder's an odd means to that end. Not much laughter among the dead."
"In Everglade? You'd be surprised. But hey, it made me laugh. That's gotta count for something."
No response.
"Aww, what's the matter? Don't tell me Mr. Snuffles himself doesn't like getting his hands dirty."
"I don't, as it happens."
"Eh, give it a try. You might enjoy it. When you're funny, people will let you get away with murder. Or, you know, close enough. Say, lemme ask you a personal question. What happened, huh? What's wrong with this place?"
"People like you."
"Ahahahahahuh. Nice, man. Nice. Yeah, guess I didn't brighten up the place as much as I wanted. I hope you do a better job than me. Then again, you dress kinda drably. Shit; you look as bad as I feel."
"Are we about finished?"
"Sure man." He stood up with a groan, a hand to his back. Not a criminal that was in very good shape. He extended a hand.
"Thanks for chatting with a soulless doll, Snuffles. It means a lot. Heheh, well, not really. Put 'er there."
Reluctantly, Ted shook his hand limply.
"From one clown to another, right? Hey, don't make a face. Trust me: it takes one to know one."
Ted escorted him to jail, then spent the rest of the evening feeling very funny.
He'd done the usual busywork of man tracking. Finding commonalities between the victims, following up with people who might know any suspects. Ted had worked in Everglade so long, he'd practically memorized the phone book. His searches eventually led him to a dilapidated hovel of a home, smelling of decay and alcohol. Ted knew a little about clowns; specifically their wasting souls and depressive personalities. Few acted from any natural happiness.
He invited himself in. The suspect was at home, sitting in a chair facing the doorway. He was expecting visitors.
"Don't worry, I'm not really a ghost. Everyone needs a schtick, ya know?"
"I very much don't. Come on, I'm bringing you to the authorities."
"What? You mean Grell and her deputies? You know those people are sicker than me, right? You have any idea how much blood is on their hands?"
"...Yes."
"So you're just picking on the little guy. The guy who doesn't have the resources to cover up his crimes."
"Yes."
The man, skinny yet with a pot belly, burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! Story of my life. Man, ain't that the way? Here, pull up a chair, friend."
"Excuse me?"
"Man, you need to lighten up. I know who you are, 'Mr. Snuffles'. It's fine; won't try anything. Just want to talk, share some laughs. You wouldn't be so heartless to refuse a guy's dying wish, wouldja?"
For reasons Ted couldn't explain and likely never would, he obliged, gripping a recliner that had seen better days and dragging it over next to him. He took a seat.
"You probably wanna know why I did it, huh?"
"I admit I'm curious. But then, as far as I know, none of you dolls have souls. I'm rather more curious as to why the doll maker made you quite so morbid."
"Haha, harsh! I mean, I guess you could say I'm a black comedian. Not, like, skin, but, you know. Subject matter."
"You find murder funny?"
"Well, yeah! I mean, slapstick is funny. Violence is funny. You've seen the cartoons. Shit's priceless. Can you honestly say you don't find humor in beating the snot out of guys like me?"
Beneath the goku uniform, Ted grinned.
"Why, yes, I think I can."
That earned more laughter than it should have.
"HAHAHAHAHA! Oh man, you're good. That's great stuff. Grammatical pedantry. Classic. I mean, I just whack people, but that's me. I'm lowbrow. I could never be a court jester, you know? Mocking kings and all that."
"A dangerous profession."
"Right? I mean, we don't really have those in Everglade, but ya know. I don't really have the courage. Clowning on people in authority. I mean, murdering a guy is pretty ho-hum. No one really cares about, like, you know. Physical death. But poke someone's ego? An important person's ego? The world would go up in flames!"
"You think murder a tamer thing than targeted mockery?"
"'Think' implies I'm not sure. Hell yeah, man. When's the last time you saw any real, honest-to-goodness lampooning of powerful people? Hell, of anyone? Everyone takes themselves so goddamn seriously. It's a problem."
"I'd agree with you, but-"
"'That would make us both wrong'? Sorry; heard 'em all before."
The man slouched in his chair.
"It's this city, man. It uh...really sucks."
"I'm aware."
"Yeah, yeah I know you are. You've seen the worst of it. That's kinda why I took up clowning, ya know? Try and...I dunno, fight back I guess. Make people smile. Just...give 'em something that isn't this. This constant, droning, on-and-on misery of death and decay."
"Murder's an odd means to that end. Not much laughter among the dead."
"In Everglade? You'd be surprised. But hey, it made me laugh. That's gotta count for something."
No response.
"Aww, what's the matter? Don't tell me Mr. Snuffles himself doesn't like getting his hands dirty."
"I don't, as it happens."
"Eh, give it a try. You might enjoy it. When you're funny, people will let you get away with murder. Or, you know, close enough. Say, lemme ask you a personal question. What happened, huh? What's wrong with this place?"
"People like you."
"Ahahahahahuh. Nice, man. Nice. Yeah, guess I didn't brighten up the place as much as I wanted. I hope you do a better job than me. Then again, you dress kinda drably. Shit; you look as bad as I feel."
"Are we about finished?"
"Sure man." He stood up with a groan, a hand to his back. Not a criminal that was in very good shape. He extended a hand.
"Thanks for chatting with a soulless doll, Snuffles. It means a lot. Heheh, well, not really. Put 'er there."
Reluctantly, Ted shook his hand limply.
"From one clown to another, right? Hey, don't make a face. Trust me: it takes one to know one."
Ted escorted him to jail, then spent the rest of the evening feeling very funny.