Clowns

Old Glory

MOJO CITY, Oct. 1, 2001 -- [This is a continuation of yesterday's report on the Solitary Gunman provided us by Eric Jennings, 16, of 2318 Birch St. Our Contributing Editor, Cody Barstow did the interview.

[Quick Review -- The SG wandered into town on a large horse, not sure why he was there. In his wallet, was a picture of our own Fell Tyler, local psychic, who had disappeared in a cloud of smoke the day previous while trying to provide city council with some answers to why the clowns were in town]

So, it was at this point the three clowns showed up?

That's what I said.

I'm trying to set the scene, Eric.

Sorry, Cody. Yeah, the clowns came rushing out of some damned alley with small pots of paint in their hands. Red, white, and blue.

That reminds me, one of the clowns was dressed mostly in lavendar and white. Beautiful.

You got a clown jones, Eric?

No. Well, maybe. It was some chick. Maybe eighteen. She had a great smile. She smiled at me, you know?

Eric, you're 16. The way the world looks to you right now, every girl smiles at you.

No, I mean, really, man. She looked nice.

Can you describe the other two clowns?

What other ...? Oh, no. But they all had paint in small buckets. And the one with the red paint started slapping it all over the horse's ass in this rectangular pattern.

And then?

Then the clown with the blue paint, the chick, started smoothing it over in the upper left corner ... and she was real pretty, man. You could tell even behind the facepaint and the fangs and blood she'd drawn around her mouth ... and some of the people could see where this was leading and they began to get pissed and right then the other clown took this round dauber-kind of brush and began slowly, really carefully like, you know ... daubing the stars on the blue square.

The crowd must have been really pissed then.

Actually, no. I mean this clown was doing it so slowly and carefully, and mumbling the numbers under his breath ... like, seven ... eight ... that sort of thing, the crowd got into it and began chanting the numbers with him ... thirty-seven ... thirty-eight ... and when some idiot tried to stop him and he got one outside the blue square, people got so pissed the cops had to hold them back to protect him.

Anyway, they got done and she ran away with the other two clowns.

The cops never tried to stop them?

They got caught up in it, too. And even if they hadn't, they had their hands full trying to protect that idiot who tried to stop them.

So, it's done, and the clowns are gone. The crowd gets quiet and looks up at the Solitary Gunman to see how he's going to react to this painting of his horse. He looks down at them, and asks,

"Where's the nearest car wash?"

Someone points toward Mobley's, and he just silently turns his horse in that direction. And as they walk away, I don't think there was a one of us who could've said we've ever seen a more glorious horse's ass. (more)