The Jokester

Chapter 10: The Start

Trigger Warnings For This Chapter: Cursing, Hallucinations, Mental Illness Traits, Small Violence, Time Period Homophobia, Suggestive Material.

(I imagine everyone knows what a newton's cradle is, but if you don't, google it, and you'll be like, "Ooooh, that's what that thing is called." Also, a doddypole is someone who doesn't appear very bright.)

   "S-sir!! Please!" Pinky dropped to his knees with clasped hands. "I love this job!" (I'm capable of doing this job!) "Please!"

   The man crushed the stub of a cigar into an ashtray. "Pinky. Look, I'm sorry. You're our least popular clown. Everyone you do gigs for says you're weird... I can't have you tainting the company." He said sorry, but it didn't feel like a sorry.

   Pinky got up off his knees and stared at the ground. He'd been begging now for five minutes. It clearly wasn't going to get him anywhere. "Can I have my pay for last week before I go? Poit." His tone had gone from desperate to empty so easily.

   The man waved his arms with a baffled huff. "Pay? For last week? Alright." The man shuffled through a drawer at his desk and threw some loose change toward Pinky.

   The coins landed in Pinky's line of sight. Two nickels and a penny. "What-.."

   "You did two gigs! Badly! The customers called demanding a discount! I had to give it to 'em. Some of your money went to that. Consider the rest that was taken as a tax deduction." He pulled out a fresh cigar, muttering under his breath. "Freak."

   Pinky didn't move. The shock of what was happening had frozen him in time. You can't even act like a clown right. Pathetic.

   There was a loud slam as the man hit his desk. "You're fired! Go on and get! Leave your costume in your locker!"

   Pinky slowly gained the ability to move and trudged out of the office and headed for his locker. The morning hustle of men suiting up became warped background noise. Crazy. You're crazy.

   Pinky gasped when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around and sighed begrudgingly. "Hey, Tip." He wasn't in the mood to try to be amicable.

   The man known as Tip patted Pinky before hanging his arm at his side. "Heard you got booted. That's a shame."

   Pinky rolled his eyes. "Yeah. It's a shame. Troz!" He turned back to his locker and shoved his bag of work attire in there.

   Tip clicked his tongue. "Well, we'll miss you...."

   Pinky shut his locker.

   Tip's voice became just barely higher than a whisper. "...not. You're brain's messed up anyway. Good riddance."

   Are you gonna let him get away with that?

   *clunk!*. *thud!*

   There was a shared gasp among everyone in the room as they formed a circle around the shocking scene.

   Pinky looked down on the meaty man he had tackled. He held the man's arms down with a strength he didn't know he had. "Don't you talk about my Brain like that!!! Ever!" Let him hear it! Pinky's body trembled with foreign rage as he hyper-focused on the large man. How did he even know about Brain?

   Tip groaned as his head hit the floor. His eyebrows furled with anger. "What's wrong with you?!! Fucking crazy bastard!"

   Show him how crazy you are!! Pinky brought his arm back and swung down, striking the man across the jaw. A bit of blood leaked from the man's mouth as his gum was gashed. Pinky's breathing slowed, and he had been unaware it ever quickened. He slowly got up off of Tip. The man sat up, groaning as he held his jaw.