Laughing Jack: How To Put A Jack In The Box Back In The Box (Laughing JackxOC)

Chapter 9: Officer Michaels

"Finally!" Laughing Jack exclaimed with theatrical flair as they exited the hospital, stretching their long arms upward. "I swear, I thought I'd perish from sheer boredom in there," he exaggerated, observing Dylan scrolling through his collection of music podcasts, filled with classical tunes, gothic tales, and Shakespearean works. "What's playing for our little mouse today?" he teased, leaning in to peek over Dylan's shoulder, only to be met with a swift screen shutdown and a disappointed frown.

"Nothing," Dylan curtly responded, growing weary of the mouse moniker without understanding its origin. He attempted to drown out the clown's antics with "Poet" by Invadable Harmony. Unfortunately, his peaceful moment was shattered by a familiar voice calling his name. Reluctantly pulling out an earbud, Dylan turned to find Officer Michaels approaching. "This can't be happening," he muttered under his breath, exasperated by the unexpected interruption.

"Hmm? Who's this?" Laughing Jack inquired with a quizzical expression as he observed the approaching man with a smile.

"An annoyance," Dylan muttered under his breath to Laughing Jack, pausing his music as he acknowledged the newcomer.

"Figured you'd be here," Officer Michaels remarked with a chuckle, arms crossed. "You never called me. I've been waiting."

"I never promised to call you. I explicitly said not to get your hopes up," Dylan reminded the officer, arms now crossed defensively. "How did you even find me? If you're stalking me, I can report you," he added, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Oh, no, I'm not... I just happened to be in the area," Officer Michaels hastily clarified, clearing his throat. "And I spotted you."

"Right, sure," Dylan retorted skeptically. Something about the officer's demeanor didn't sit well with him, causing his stomach to knot with unease. He'd encountered numerous officers in the past due to his stepfather's connections, but this one seemed unfamiliar.

"Mouseyyyyy, can we go? Seriously, this guy smells like he hasn't showered in a few days," Laughing Jack interjected, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Though he sensed a familiarity with the officer, he couldn't quite place it. Regardless, his main concern was getting a taste of the Moroccan tagine Dylan had whipped up the night before.

"Come on, Dylan, you just gotta tell me what you know and describe the guy, that's all," Officer Michael persisted, leaning in slightly as he tried to coax information out of him. "I'm not going to be dismissive like the lady on the 911 call. You know you can trust me."

Dylan let out an exasperated sigh, recognizing that the officer wasn't going to back down until he relented. "Ugh, fine," he relented begrudgingly. "I'll answer your questions, but you only have ten minutes," he added firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. He glanced around the room, feeling increasingly impatient. Seriously, did this guy not know what a shower was? The smell was becoming unbearable.

Relieved that he was finally getting somewhere, Officer Michael nodded eagerly. "Great, thank you, Dylan. I promise to make it quick," he assured, pulling out a notepad and pen from his pocket.

Dylan eyed the notepad warily, not entirely convinced by the officer's reassurances. He knew how these things went – what started as a simple question could easily spiral into a lengthy interrogation. But he supposed it was better than the alternative of being stuck in this dingy room with the unpleasant odor emanating from the officer.

"Alright, so tell me everything you remember about the guy you saw at the corner of 5th and Elm," Officer Michael prompted, pen poised to jot down Dylan's response.

Taking a deep breath, Dylan thought for a moment, glancing at Laughing Jack who stood beside him, chuckling uncontrollably. Ignoring the laughter, Dylan takes a deep breath and begins to describe Laughing Jack's appearance. "He's, uh, about 7 feet tall," Dylan began, his voice slightly faltering as he recalled the details. "Wearing a black turtleneck with the bottom cut off, and then there's this... striped black and white shirt on top," he continued, gesturing vaguely to emphasize the mismatched attire. "Pinstripe pants, you know, with those black and white striped socks, and... feathers, yeah, black and white feathers on his shoulders," Dylan added, his tone growing more uncertain as he delved into the peculiar accessories.

"And, um, there are these black suspenders... kind of hanging off his shoulders, and white bandages wrapped around his hands and waist," Dylan stammered, struggling to articulate the bizarre ensemble. "Oh, and his shoes, they're black," he concluded, feeling a sense of relief as he finished describing the outfit. As for the face, Dylan hesitated, knowing this would be the most delicate part of his description. "Well, there's... this makeup," he began cautiously, choosing his words carefully. "It's, uh, kind of... well, horrible, honestly. Like, really bad clown makeup," he admitted, not caring if his honesty offended Laughing Jack. "And, um, he has this long, pointed nose," Dylan continued, trying to maintain his composure. "Black and white, spiraled... like a cone," he finished, his voice trailing off as he reluctantly detailed Laughing Jack's distinctive facial feature."Oh yeah, and they had long black claw-like nails."

Laughing Jack's usual demeanor, characterized by a perpetual grin that seemed to hold a hint of mischief, abruptly transformed into a deep frown, his expression contorting into a scowl as Dylan's ill-conceived comment landed squarely on his face. The jovial twinkle in his eyes vanished, replaced by a look of annoyance that creased his features. "Hey, I'm right here, you know. That's not a funny joke," Jack retorted sharply, his voice tinged with irritation, but his words were largely ignored as Dylan continued conversing with the officer.

The sudden shift in Jack's demeanor did not go unnoticed by Dylan, who couldn't help but feel a pang of satisfaction at having momentarily disrupted the clown's usual facade of cheerfulness. However, any sense of triumph was short-lived as the officer directed his attention back to the matter at hand, inquiring about a music box.

Dylan froze, his mind racing with questions. How did this stranger know about the music box? It was a closely guarded secret, not even mentioned in the police reports that had been circulating in the news.

"Oi, brat, I think it's time to go," Jack interjected abruptly, his frown deepening into a scowl as he shot a wary glance in the direction of the officer. The revelation that this stranger was aware of the music box sent alarm bells ringing in Jack's mind. It was bad enough that he had to contend with Dylan's antics and figure out a way to retrieve the box from him before Slenderman caught wind of it. Now, with this newcomer in the picture, Jack couldn't shake the feeling that trouble was brewing. Whoever this man was, he clearly knew more than he was letting on, and that spelled trouble for Jack and his plans.

"Music box?" he echoed, his voice dripping with a mix of innocence and incredulity. "You think I'd be paying attention to some random music box amidst all that chaos? I mean, come on, officer. I was too busy being pursued by some nightmarish, clown-like creature straight out of a horror movie, after witnessing it tear apart a child like a twisted piñata. Trust me, a music box was the least of my concerns in that moment."

The officer, clearly taken aback by Dylan's brazen dismissal, stumbled over his words for a moment before regaining his composure. "Ah, right, sorry," he mumbled awkwardly, clearly eager to extricate himself from the increasingly bizarre conversation. "Well then, that's all my questions for now. Take care."

With a curt nod, Officer Michaels hastily retreated, leaving Dylan to watch his departure with a mixture of relief and suspicion. Something about the officer's demeanor set off alarm bells in Dylan's mind, and he made a mental note to keep a close eye on him in the future. It was clear that Officer Michaels posed a potential threat, and Dylan knew he would have to tread carefully to avoid getting ensnared in whatever web of intrigue the man was weaving.

Once the coast was clear, Dylan wasted no time in slipping his earbuds back in and resuming his journey home, his thoughts already racing ahead to the next item on his agenda: dealing with Laughing Jack. As much as he loathed the idea of tangling with the malevolent clown, Dylan knew that he had no choice but to confront the problem head-on. After all, getting rid of Jack was the only way to ensure his own safety and sanity in the twisted world he found himself trapped in.