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And Then Things Got Weird….

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Clown Car — A Date with Mr. Jingles

“Clown Car — A Date with Mr. Jingles ”

3. ClassicClown

Miss Giggles paced the hallway of her small apartment in South Bouncy Town. She did not know what to expect of Mr. Jingles, the blind date that her girlfriend,  Roly Poly, had set her up with. A tiny polka dotted VW pulled up to the curb outside the window below Giggle’s small apartment. A cacophony of horns went off from inside the car. Who is this mysterious stranger?

Anxious, Giggles paced, skipped and did hand springs across her apartment. The funhouse mirror along with her silver jumpsuit made her look slimmer and taller than her squat five-foot frame.

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She had a new look and a new name. Many years ago, after a big sneeze from her giant fire-engine red nose, cruel classmates laughed at her and named her “Gluey.”

The name Gluey stuck for years. (Hyuk, hyuk! HONK!)

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Her new boss at the SMACME Fun Company had given her a better name, “Miss Giggles,” that was more suitable to her laughter. Giggles fixed her orange hairdo by Bozette and repositioned the two water balloons in her bra.

Her date knocked on the door with a familiar rhythm, “Shave and a haircut. five cents.”

“Hiya, hiya, hiya! Call me Mr. Jingles!” Mr. Jingles was dressed to the nines in a yellow baggy jump suit with six-inch blue polka dots and three red buttons the size of custard pies. His matching hat was two feet high and came to a handsome duncey point. Thank the Lord Bozo he wasn’t another hobo clown like her ex, Patches —with charcoal all over his face. My daddy, Boingo would like Mr. Jingles, she thought. So would my mommy. Miss Giggle’s mom, Bingo always wore the baggy pants in the Tumbles family.

“I bought you some di-did-diddlely flowers!” said Mr. Jingles, as he thrust forward a bouquet.

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The flowers flopped over when she grabbed them. “How pretty! I’ll put them in water.”

“No probalobelummo, Miss Giggles! I have plenty of water right here!” He squirted her with his platinum plated Fizz-o-Rama seltzer bottle. “Hyuk, Hyuk!”

Soon, they were performing summersaults down the stairs and out to Jingle’s star-covered Volkswagen bug, she wondered, Is it true what they say about size 28 feet?

Mr. Jingles clicked his remote and the “Merry-go-round Broke Down” played across the Rubbermaid Habitat lined street as his car doors popped open. “Everybody, out! Hyuk, hyuk!” said Mr. Jingles as he motioned for his date to step back. Twenty clowns, two wearing “Kick Me!” signs on their backs, three riding miniature bicycles, some with pet chimps, and a couple with a pig in a baby carriage wearing a bonnet emerged from the back seat. They streamed down the dark street, each honking their “own horn.” Mr. Jingles held open the car door for Miss Giggles. “You can get in miss! Safety first! Buckle up!” He handed Miss Giggles a buckle. “Golly! I hope you’re hungry! Hey! How about Chuckle’s Cheese? I reserved the ball pit for us.”

“Isn’t that a bit pricey?” Giggles asked politely.

“Heck no! Nothin’ is too much fun for my girl! Hyuk, hyuk!” said Mr. Jingles as he pulled out a wad of Monopoly money. “We’re gonna paint the town red, and green and yellow and…”

Part II — Chuckle’s Cheese

“Please, my dear have a seat,” said Mr. Jingles as he pulled a “Wet Paint” sign from underneath his date. “Gotcha!”

“Oh, Mr. Jingles!”

“How about pie? Do you like pie, miss Giggles?”

“Custard.”

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“Oh, goody!” He called to the waiter, “Garçon! May we order a half dozen custard pies — with whipped cream?” Mr. Jingles turned toward Miss Giggles and placed his giant red glove on her giant blue glove. “Would madame care for something to drink? Oui? Waiter! We’ll have two bottles of your finest seltzer.”

When their meal arrived they shoved three pies into each the other’s face and rinsed each other down with the two bottles of 1856 Dieu Maudit le Clown Seltzer water.

“I don’t feel well,” said Giggles suddenly. She bent over the dinner table, stuck her tongue out and … “Hack, hack, hack!” She pulled a blue handkerchief out of her mouth, which was tied to a yellow one, which was tied to a green one, which was tied to…… This went on and on for nearly a two gazillion minutes!

“Are you okay, missy?” he asked. “Let’s get some air!”

“Whatsamattah? Can’t ya take a choke?” she giggled.

Mr. Jingles took her by the hand outside. He lit a cigarette and tossed the match into her pocket.

Mr. Jungles casually asked Miss Giggles if she smoked.

“I only smoke when I’m on fire! Oh, no. I’ve been incinerated!”

“Well, there ya go! Hyuk, hyuk! You sure are hot!” Mr. Jingle’s lifted his duncey cap to reveal a plastic fireman’s hat. His red nose began to blink as he blew into a siren ring and ran circles around her.

“Save me! Save me, Mr. Fireman!” she cried.

Mr. Jingles stopped at his VW, unlatched the hood, grabbed a pail of confetti from inside and dumped it on her head. “Hyuk, hyuk! Gee, I’m sorry!” he said. “Here! Have another flower!” It squirted water into her eye, then drooped like the roses. Mr. Jingles grabbed her rouged cheeks and kissed her on her wax lips. Their noses beeped together.

“C’mon!” said Mr. Jingles. “Let’s go for a ride!”

It was a wild ride as they careened through the faulty stop lights of Bouncy Town and headed up the Benny Hills toward Sock-it-to me Lane overlooking moonlit Lake Guffaw.

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Sock-it-to-me Lane

Once parked, they kissed and squeezed each other, producing many honks and beeps. There was barking from the back seat. Mr. Jingles was also an accomplished ventriloquist. “Woof! Woof!”

“What’s that Mr. Jingles?”

“A banana!”

“No, silly. I mean who is barking?”

“That’s my dog Sprinkles! Wanna see? Hyuk, hyuk.” Mr. Jingles opened his door and got out of the car. He tilted his seat forward and said, “Mr. Sprinkles needs to go for a walk!” as he grabbed a leash and pulled on it. The leash had an empty loop where the dog’s head would have been. “Miss Giggles, We’ll be right back! Then Sprinkles will leave us alone.” Mr. Jingles walked to a nearby tree with the leash and waited while his imaginary dog did his business. When they returned to the car, Mr. Jingles threw the leash into the front seat. “Oops! Sprinkles wants to sit in front, Miss Giggles. Whaddaya say? Let’s sit in the back seat. It can hold forty clowns!”

When in back, Mr. Jingles slipped off his size 28 shoes, and SHAZZAM!  Yes, thought Miss Giggles. It IS true what they say about big feet! ———— They stink!

And before you could say ‘Honk Honk’ Mr. Jingles had stripped down to his Happy Birthday Suit. “Har Har! Make a wish and blow!”

“Mr. Jingles you’re so much fun! Hee Hee Up until now, my love life has been a roller coaster — a Tilt-A-Whirl — and, and a funhouse!”

There was a knocking on the car window. The spell was broken.

“Uh, oh,” said Mr. Jingles. “It’s the Keystone cops! Get dressed, Hoppy.”

“Hoppy?” Who’s Hoppy? she thought. “Who in the Three Rings of Barnum is Hoppy?”

Jingles ignored her question. “They only want to chase us around the car with billy clubs ‘til our pants fall down.”

“Hey, I asked you something, Buster! Who is this floozy named Hoppy?  Have you been up here with other clownesses?”

Jingles ignored her again. “Oh, come on! Isn’t this fun?” Mr. Jingles rolled down the window! “Good evening occiffers…huh?”

Miss Giggles recognized the men outside the car behind the glare of their kaleidoscope flashlights. It was the notorious Muggles Brothers! Scary clowns.

“All of youz! Everybody! Outta the car!” said Boffo Muggles.

“Go steal a hamburger!” said Mr. Jingles as took the bubblegum from his mouth, fastened his jumpsuit with it, and stepped out of the car. He offered the Muggles brothers jelly beans if they promised to go away. Miss Giggles followed Jingles straightening her boxer shorts. She looked behind her to find out that yet another steady stream of clowns were exiting Mr. Jingles’ car.

The Muggles Brothers began “mugging” or making faces at the couple. Mr. Jingles surprised Boffo and knocked him down with an inflatable baseball bat, resulting in birds around Bofo’s head. Boffo popped right back up. Bobo Muggles said, “Give us all of your M&Ms, Jingles.” Boffo pulled out a gun that looked like a cannon. Mr. Jingles stood back and offered to give them everything. He started to empty his pockets. There were frogs, a rabbit, giant bloomers, white pigeons and hand-buzzers. “That’s all I got! Hyuk.”

“Mr. Big-shot Jingles is holding back on us,” said Bobo.

A “Bang!” sign popped out of Boffo’s gun barrel. Then, his brother Bobo hit Mr. Jingles with an inflatable sledge hammer sending him flying across the dirt lot where he landed squarely on his butt. Jingle’s big ears made his head look like a wing nut as it spun around. Jelly beans blasted from his pointy hat like a Piñata.

Miss Giggles remembered the two whoopee cushions in her back pocket. She threw them onto the ground and jumped on them with both feet, scaring the Muggles brothers away and saving the candy for all of the little children who love the Circus.

“You saved my life, Hoppy, uh …I mean Miss Giggles,” said Mr. Jingles, who was weaving, as she scooped up all of his candy and put it into her over-sized pockets. “Hoppy, huh?” Clown or no clown, he was only dating me for FUN! Mr. Jingles had  passed out before she could strangle the Casanova with his six-foot checkerboard necktie.

The ambulance arrived within minutes. Miss Giggles watched as the attendants loaded Mr. Jingles into the back on a gurney and sped off, in circles, of course… dumping him back onto the parking lot and, on the next round, fatally running him over, repeatedly, until the honking stopped. Mr. Jingles had gone to the Big Top in the sky. “Huyk, hyuk, hyuk!” Miss Giggles laughed. “Your fun-filled nights at Sock-it-to-me Lane are over Romeo!” She skipped back toward Bouncy Town, laughing-all-the-way. “Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk!”

But we all know that poor Miss Giggles was really crying on the inside.

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Moonlight, Artemis and Cheeseburgers

Bernie cracked open an eyelid. The lunar light had filled the room. Light as a feather, the specter of a tall pale woman had settled astride his waist, replacing his cat who now sat at the foot of the bed. A long black braid, full of stardust, tumbled down her bare right shoulder. The light danced across on her long white legs and silk tunic. The folds of her garment fanned out like gardenia petals. With each of her deep breath the white cloth fluttered and teased across Bernie’s chest. She leaned close to see if he was still asleep.

There was no scent of flowers when she exhaled above his  lips. That would have been simple and pleasant. Poor Bernie Benedict never knew what hit him. A goddess! The woman’s lips had been anointed with the divine.

A dazzling blend of home-made chili, tangy American cheese, fruity floral onions, crisp kosher pickles and magnificent beef accords.’ 

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A wee little circumc…uh, snippet from: The Man From Nantucket

“The hair in Sam’s nose and ears caught fire, and the threadbare material of his pants began to dissolve in response to the wench’s corrosive parlance. Mariah’s skirt, now in shreds, was no more than a mop swabbing Sam’s bounding foredeck.”
― from “The Man From Nantucket: The Man From Nantucket (American Legends)”
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Bats ^^Ö^^ The Dinner Hall Scene

“No one tells my Gibor children what to do, Gretel Van Helsing!”roared the twenty-foot tall Saturn who had burst through the door and took a place in front of Vlad’s crew. He squatted and opened his arms to the stupid trusting Gibors. “Come to Daddy, kids!”

“This doesn’t look good, brother!”said Gretel. “We should make like lightning, and bolt!”

Always obedient, the repulsive Gibors ran into the arms of their daddy, who had created their miserable but delectable race long ago in ancient Mesopotamia. Daddy Saturn began to bite their heads off in quick succession. The entire room, already sick to their stomachs, was startled to see a continuous splattering loop of Francisco Goya’s Saturn Eating His Son. Drooling, the giant smiled with his mouth full, burped and asked, “Who’s got the Sriracha?”― from “Bats”

^^Ö^^

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An Interview with Kālī (from Shark Fin Soup)

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It was 6 p.m. The end of Bernie’s first day at the Interpol office in Los Angeles. He was beat. The agent’s job at the agency was based on his ‘talent.’ Bernie had been hired because he was not only able to see, but also communicate with religious apparitions.

Bernie’s first day on the job ended with a short, unscheduled, but action-packed interview in his office with the Hindu goddess  काली (Kali).

A few minutes earlier, Kali, being her usual sweet self, looked down at Bernie through the splinters of his new desk and grinned her blood covered rack of 14K gold teeth.

“I AM THE GREAT KALI!!!!” She circled the desk and castrated its four legs with a swipe of the four Jambiya  घुमावदार चाकू in her four hands, pinning Bernie to the floor in the middle of the rubble.

“Please, stop, काली!” he pleaded.

“Call me DOOOOOOOOOMMMM, Agent Benedict,” the Goddess of Destruction hissed, “AND you will thank me for beating this lesson into your sappy skull. My गुंडापन Thuggee followers, who number in the millions, still send me sweet little boxes containing their progeny’s still-beating hearts on Saint Jack the Ripper’s Day. I just want you to know that what, I, THE GREAT KALI!!!!, am capable of. What I can do to you…is NOTHING…Mwahahahaha…Nothing, compared to what that Brazen HUSSY Dauna Robinson will do to your maracas before you leave the building TONIGHT! … By the way,” Kali said, while grooming her fluttering eye lashes with her flaming jalapeño tongue, “This is hard for me to ask.”

“What? Anything! Anything! Spare me, oh, great Kali! Your wish is my command, oh fearsome goddess!” said the fetal quivering loogie named Bernie.

“Stand up, Agent Benedict. I was only joshin’ with ya,” Kali said, while brushing the wood dust off of her armored golden sari. “Do you think that you can set me up on a date with your friend, Frankie?”

“The Sumatran?”

Kali softened her voice. “I’m asking you as a friend

.…Or else, Worm!”

 

Two Goddesses at a Wedding

Artemis Goes to a Wedding 

(From: Shark Fin Soup by Fred Barnett)

A scene from the arranged marriage of the Shark Goddess Dauna, and her chosen beau, the dim-witted, self-absorbed, pretty-boy Shark Demigod Bunji.

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The Zeus family couldn’t make it to the wedding. Most of the gods on Olympus had been bedridden with the Nosoi Flu, otherwise known as βροντές και κεραυνούς από τον κώλο, or  thunder and lightning released from the γάιδαρος or even more commonly known as sun flares.

Zeus, himself, was too ill to get to the phone, so he asked his wife Leto to call their daughter, Artemis. Artemis the Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt, who  was in Wyoming tracking a family of Yetis. She’d been trying to control the spread of Big Foot’s progeny for years. They were becoming a road hazard. She was trying to issue the elders a warning before the issue of total extinction would be their only other option. Most of the drivers who hit them at high speed had thought that the piles of fur and blood had been bears.

“Could you attend the (cough, cough) wedding of the Fijian Shark Gods Bunji and Dauna as our special envoy – as a special gift (cough) from all of the ailing Greek gods?” Leto asked her daughter, Artemis.

“Sure, Mom. How’s Dad?”

“All he can do is sleep. We both had a terrible night. Your poor brother has been sitting on the golden throne since early this morning.”

“That’s awful.”

Artemis would use all of her expertise in planetary design and cosmology to provide the lighting for the royal function. It would be a strenuous evening that would require that she control the movements of the Earth, moon, and stars, providing a light show lasting over an hour until the young marrieds dashed off toward their fahhhhhbulousssss honeymoon.

Artemis was uncomfortable with the idea of marriage, romance, and especially – fahhhhhhbuloussss honeymoons.

While standing in the long reception line, Artemis thought about the bride and groom, Bunji and Dauna. Six sunny fun-filled days! And five glorious nights! … in beautiful, romantic Hawaii! The A-holes. (She could imagine the two, breeding like filthy damned Yetis in the hotel’s heart-shaped tub.) 

Artemis was not jealous. To her, gods and goddesses should always strive to be above such “base” behaviors. A honeymoon was a primitive rite, common among reeking humanoids, recently emerged from the Tyranno- toilets called swamps.

Sleaze.

Above all things, Artemis was pure. Superior as both a goddess and a  huntress, she manifested dominion over the animals of the Earth and skies. Dignified.

But then, she has these long legs. Hoo hah.

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Cool as the blue moonlight with her long black braid swinging, the majestic Artemis approached the newlyweds, Dauna and Bunji, as they received their guests. She tried her best to bow modestly in her short, off-the-shoulder white tunic. The self-designed garment enabled the Goddess to move quickly when she was in pursuit of fast prey.  To Artemis, the bride, Dauna, didn’t look ‘thrilled’ about the wedding. It had been an arranged marriage to bring peace among the Micronesian worshippers of opposing shark gods.

Dauna eyed her new husband, Bunji, trying to gauge his reaction to the long-limbed beauty approaching them. Dauna, a steaming hot goddess herself, looked up and met Artemis’ thinly veiled breasts at eye level. Uh-oh. I’m fucked. 

The mighty Chief Kivana, whispered into his stepdaughter Dauna’s ear, “The Huntress is an avowed Oh, my! virgin and a Wowser! legendary man-hater.” At first, disarmed by Artemis’ smile and the spark in her eyes, Chief Kivana found himself enraptured by the goddess’s cherry red lips. The Chief looked at his daughter and then back at Artemis. He shook his head: Uh-oh. Dauna’s fucked. 

The young groom Bunji tried to speak next. He eloquently expressed himself: “Hominahominahominahomina.” Then he took a big breath and said, in English, “Miss Huntress. Those, those are some …homina homina …impressive …uh, arrows …in your … thingy. Is…Is that a holster?”

“This thingy is called a quiver, my Lord Bunji. These are my golden hunting arrows. Please, both of you, call me Artemis.”

“Quiver?” (That …uh …sounds hot) the thirty-five-year old Bunji’s fourteen-year-old imagination raced ahead.

“That’s right, Hotshot,” said Dauna to her betrothed. “A soft sheath to keep your shafted projectiles warm.”

It took awhile for Dauna’s comment to register with her new husband. “Oh yeah! Ha! I get it!” Artemis blushed…all over her body.

“Please!” whispered the statuesque Goddess to the couple. “Let’s try to keep this conversation out of the gutter.”

The bride and groom stared at each other in amazement and then back toward Artemis in embarrassment.

“We’re sorry, we were just…” said Dauna.

“I know. Honeymooners. To me, sex is not a laughing matter. I am the virgin Goddess of the Hunt and the Moon. I hunt many types of prey. I also kill to protect the virtue of both myself and the innocent. I hunt nearly anything that moves …except men. They hunt me, then they end up killing themselves as soon as they find out that Artemis, the Goddess, doesn’t need a γαμημένος date! I wouldn’t waste my arrows on such weak and easy targets!”

“Oh, P-leeeeease,” said Dauna, rolling her eyes. ‘Cept that girl is spot on.

Artemis continued on as if nothing had happened. “I must apologize for the absence of the other Olympians tonight, all of whom are suffering from Nosoi.”

“Nosoi Flu?” asked Bunji. “That is nasty.” Mesmerized by the thin material of her tunic, he added, “Goddess! Do you have a card …on you?” He was unable to turn his gaze away from the tall porcelain-skinned wonderland before him. Dauna imagined a target glowing on her husband’s forehead.

“The gods of Olympus have sent me here to help light the heavens and set the mood for your wedding. Let me convey all of our best wishes and Congratulations!”

“I’m, uh, honored to uh meet youuuuuuuuu,” said the groom, who was looking down, maneuvering his shiny black patent leather shoes, so that he could  cop a peek up the Huntress’ short skirt.

“Honored to meet you, Artemis,” said Dauna, giving her new spouse a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“Next in line, please!” said Chief Kivana.

Though the Chief hated to see his stepdaughter marry the half-witted mannequin Bunji, his quick thinking probably saved the young groom from getting a golden shafted projectile through his empty skull.

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