She Was Only A Clown Chapter 3

SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday through Halloween. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2.

Chapter 3

Ruby’s barking became suddenly louder and more intense.

Elwood was seconds away from wetting himself. “Stop! Please stop!” he pleaded, hanging on to the tree trunk behind him with one hand, as though it would somehow grant him protection from the huge jaws of the yapping beast.

She inched closer and closer, daring to bite harder and harder. But just as she bit into the flesh of Elwood’s leg for the first time, she stopped.

She left go of Elwood and backed off. Her head darted to the right and she stopped growling.

Elwood chanced a glance in the direction Ruby was looking, fully expecting to see Mark standing there in his underwear.

But it wasn’t Mark. It was a clown. A short, very skinny girl—in fact—dressed as a clown.

Her hair was blue, cut into a bob that hung at her chin, obviously a wig, her face was painted stark white with tall black triangles above her eyes and a red nose. Her mouth was also painted red, but jutting out above and below her lips were jagged pieces of what looked like metal teeth.

The red paint, which looked hastily smeared on her face, extended down onto her bare chest, which was ample and full for a girl of such diminutive size, and also painted white except for her thick, hard nipples which were also smeared red. She wore only the tiniest pair of red shorts covering an unusually plump and round buttocks for someone of her slight frame, and skin-tight leggings with stripes that alternated between black and red. The whole skimpy outfit ended with a pair of big floppy red clown shoes similar to those Elwood wore.

She stood, all five feet of her, completely still. Her eyes were hidden behind the black and red smears on her face and the blue wig that hung in front of her face.

Elwood gawked at the clown girl. Not in a sexual fashion, however. He was just as unfazed sexually by women as he was by men. But rather because of the way she was dressed in the cool weather.

Ruby’s pants produced small bursts of white breath against the cool night air and yet the clown girl stood there, basically naked and produced neither breath nor shiver.

And then Ruby barked. Loudly, just once. It was a bark of surprise. She took several tentative steps toward the mysterious figure that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

The clown girl didn’t flinch.

Since Elwood couldn’t see her eyes, it was hard to tell exactly what she was looking at. Her head was slumped forward, almost as if she was asleep.

Ruby barked again, this time with more authority.

Elwood relaxed. With Ruby’s attention off of him, he was able to collect his thoughts and release his death-grip on the tree trunk.

It’s my asshole neighbor’s dog,” he said. His voice sounded ridiculous inside of his clown mask. He wished he’d have done scary face paint like the clown girl. Her outfit only made him feel like that much more of a loser for dressing and acting the way he did. “He’ll probably come looking for her soon,” Elwood finished, meekly.

The clown girl’s face snapped up, meeting Elwood’s gaze for the first time. Or, more truthfully, her face was in its downward position one moment, and then as Elwood spoke to her, she was suddenly facing him. Even though he was looking directly at her, he hadn’t actually seen her face… move.

The action sent a chill down Elwood’s spine. As though, instinctively, he knew somewhere deep inside himself that human bodies weren’t made to move that fast.

Ruby seemed to know it, too. Just as fast, her hackles went up, her head went low and she resumed her frantic, high pitched barking.

White foam launched into the air as Ruby’s jaws slammed open and shut as she barked and barked.

The clown’s face locked back into its former position facing Ruby. That same non-motion made Elwood sick to his stomach. She was standing just feet from him. It wasn’t a trick of the light, or the cold somehow messing with his vision.

And that’s when it happened.

Ruby lunged, hurling her entire hundred and twenty pounds directly into the face of the petite clown girl.

Elwood cringed, expecting the large dog to knock the painted girl down and maul her.

He lurched forward, somehow finding his moxie, ready to pull the animal off the defenseless girl.

But Ruby didn’t knock the clown down. That’s not what happened at all.

Ruby jumped up, Elwood stepped forward, and in the next moment, the clown girl was holding Ruby by the throat. The dog’s hind legs flailed and scraped at the ground, trying to find footing as the clown girl held her fast, causing Ruby to yelp and make choking noises, unable to breathe.

This act, just as awful and preternatural as the clown girl’s last movement made Elwood weak in his knees. He stopped in his tracks, watching in slack-jawed awe as the clown defied all sense of physics, handling the dog who was at least a quarter heavier than the girl as though the canine were nothing more than a child’s toy.

But that’s not the weird part.

The weird part was when the clown girl reached up with her free hand and peeled her face off.

Not her makeup. No, her actual face.

She slid her red paint stained fingertips up under the skin of her throat and pulled the skin up and over her head like it was nothing more than a latex mask.

Elwood felt his extremities go numb when he saw what was underneath.

The girl’s clown painted face wasn’t a mask, not the kind that covered another face. What was underneath could not by any definition be considered human.

Its color was the deepest most all consuming black Elwood had ever seen. It was as if it was so dense, it sucked the color out of everything around it. The colors next to it seemed to dull and mute next to that blackness. Like an absence of space. A black hole for a head.

Its shape was vaguely triangular but it came to no points. It was thick at the base of the neck where it met the painted skin of the clown girl’s torso and then came up to a tapered end. Like a tear drop bent slightly to the left.

All across this blackness though, moved glowing green eyes. The eyes sat at angles but formed perfectly straight lines, all moving across the blackness in the same rippling pattern together, as if they existed on the same axis.

But what made Elwood piss his pants was the sound that emanated from the triangular head full of shifting green eye patterns.

It was as though he stood next to a electric grid. The low hum of millions of volts of electricity mingled with a tittering sound that resembled the rubbing of insect wings.

Elwood felt the warm gush travel down his over-sized clown pants and into his shoes, but he was unable to move from the spot as the thing that had pretended to be a clown pulled Ruby close and touched her jerking, yelping snout to that all consuming blackness it had for a head before casting the dog to the ground like so much crumpled garbage.

Elwood stared in horror as Ruby convulsed, both urinating and defecating on herself as her mouth foamed bile and saliva. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head and her tongue lolled out of the side of her mouth.

Somehow Elwood found his legs. He jerked and then moved backward slowly. His breath came in hitched pulls, like hiccups only made of terror. His eyes never left the dying dog as he backed away, somehow reasoning that if he didn’t move quickly, the clownish thing wouldn’t get him.

He couldn’t breathe. Even the hitched hiccup-like gasps weren’t enough. He had to get out of the stupid clown costume. He had to breathe. With fumbling rubber hands, he yanked the clown face up over his own and took in long, deep pulls of air.

What the fuck did you do to my dog, faggot?”

Elwood froze. He held his breath. Mark.

He slowly turned around. The feeling of dread growing with each second that ticked by.

Holy fuck,” Mark said as Elwood fully turned to face him. “Elwood?”

The redneck bully was fully clothed now. He must have turned around and gone back to put clothes on. It made sense. With Ruby out here barking her head off, Mark had no need to hurry. He could take all the time he needed to get ready. It was like hunting game.

But, Elwood observed with watering eyes and trembling lips, his clothes were not all Mark had retrieved.

In his hand was a big, old pickle jar. It was stained all up so bad, the contents inside couldn’t be seen. But Elwood didn’t have to see them. He knew damn well what was inside that pickle jar. And now it was full to the brim.

I should have known it would be your dumb fucking ass out here walking around like a faggot ass clown.”

With that, Mark swung the jar and smashed Elwood across the face. As the world kaleidoscope into a dozen different colors and consciousness faded, Elwood though this as he crashed to the ground:

At least the jar didn’t break.


Be back here next Saturday, September 30th, for chapter 4! 

She Was Only A Clown Chapter 2

SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday through Halloween. Click here to read chapter 1.

Chapter 2

Elwood had known Mark since 8th grade. He was just a typical small town redneck like the rest of the idiots Elwood went to school with, but since they lived on the same road, they took the same bus together, and some days they would both wake up too late and miss the bus entirely, instead having to walk to school together.

They were never friends, but Mark had never actively tormented Elwood for being different like the other kids had, either.

And for that, Elwood had always liked Mark, even if he wore Billy Ray Cyrus T shirts and chewed tobacco.

That was until one day, sophomore year in high school when Elwood and Mark walked home from school together. As they got close to him, Mark invited Elwood into his house to smoke some dope.

Elwood had agreed. Mark’s parents and older brothers weren’t home. It was just the two of them alone in Mark’s room. They had indeed smoked a bunch of weed out of Mark’s older brother Daryl’s bong. But that’s not all that happened.

After they were good and stoned, Mark reached up under his mattress and pulled out a stack of men’s magazines.

Elwood had never seen one before. Uncle Jeff had offered to give him his collection along with the horror comics, but Elwood had declined. The truth was, Elwood had never had a sexual thought in his life. He didn’t look at naked bodies with lust. He just saw boring pink flesh. He was totally uninterested in people, naked or otherwise.

But Mark on the other hand, he flipped through the pages with a focus in his eyes that Elwood saved for a particularly gory kill in his comics.

Mark began to breathe heavier as he flipped the pages. “You ever seen tits like that?”

His voice had dropped, his eyes were glazing over. He ran his finger down a spread legged woman’s form, resting on the gigantic, bulging cock jutting up at her shaved vagina.

Mark was rubbing the bulge in his own pants. “Ever seen a cock like that in real life?”

After a second, he glanced at Elwood. He was actually asking. He wanted an answer.

Um, no. I guess not.”

Mark lipped his lips. “Do you want to?” His hand was still rubbing the crotch of his jeans.

Elwood, in fact, didn’t want to. He didn’t want to see Mark’s dick, he didn’t want to look at Mark’s dirty magazines. At that moment, he wanted to be anywhere else in the world other than in the same room with his chew-spitting neighbor.

But Elwood wasn’t a confrontational person. His parents were confrontational. They barked at, and yelled at and made fun of him every time they saw him. It gave him anxiety.

He had anxiety now. His hands began to shake as Mark unbuttoned his pants, not waiting on Elwood to answer.

Is it as big as that one?” Mark asked, awkwardly flopping his cock out over the magazine.

And there it was.

Elwood closed his eyes, steadying himself for what was about to happen next. He felt Mark’s hand grab his, leading it toward the redneck’s plump penis.

Elwood opened his eyes and was surprised to see how much Mark’s dick had grown just from touching it. This fact did not, however, give Elwood any sexual feelings at all. Indeed, his anxiety quadrupled as he ran his hand over the reddish flesh down to the thick, black, wiry pubes at the base of the swollen thing.

He tried to swallow but found his mouth dry. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as Mark grabbed his hand and started moving it back and forth.

Elwood looked up in his face and saw stern concentration as the other kid watched himself get jerked off.

After several awkward moments of this, Mark’s breathing quickened. “Grab that,” he said, rocking his hips back and forth, dry fucking Elwood’s hand in earnest.

Grab what?” Elwood managed in a hoarse voice. He felt like he had stones in his throat.

Fag jar.”


Mark pointed more forcefully at a spot under the nightstand behind them.

Elwood craned his neck around, trying to see what the hell Mark was talking about while still getting his fist fucked.

Mark was huffing loudly now and grabbed Elwood by the wrist, speeding up the jack off.

Elwood finally saw what Mark was talking about. There hidden behind a stack of hunting magazines was a mason jar. There was some kind of dried substance caked all across the rim of the jar. As Elwood reached out to pick it up, he realized what it was.

Mark’s fag jar, as he called it, was full of cum.

Elwood pulled it out of its hiding spot just in time to position it under Mark’s cock before the other boy tensed up and grunted.

Three or four spurts and several more grunts later, Mark had added a considerable amount of semen to his collection.

Why the hell he was collecting his cum, Elwood couldn’t fathom.

But Mark didn’t keep him in the dark about his bizarre fetish for long.

Thanks,” he mumbled, extracting his pudgy cock from Elwood’s cramped hand. He took the jar from Elwood’s other hand and reached across him, putting it back where Elwood had found it.

It’s for fags.”

Ok,” Elwood said, wanting to leave as soon as possible.

When I see a fag, like for real, in real life, I’m gonna make that sick fuck eat all my cum in front of me after I beat his fag ass.”

Elwood didn’t say anything. He was looking at his hand. It was raw and chafed.

You’re not a fag are you?”

No,” Elwood said, meeting Mark’s gaze. He started shaking again.

Mark stared at him for an uncomfortable moment.

Elwood was sure the bigger kid was about to beat him up.

Good. I’m not either. I just–” Mark trailed off, putting his dirty magazine away, buttoning up his pants. “I get excited when I see tits in my jack off books, is all.”

Ok,” Elwood said. “I need to go home.”

Yeah,” Mark said. “See ya.”

Elwood let himself out, hoping that that would be the end of the awful thing he’d just been through. Unfortunately, it was only the start.

Where before, Mark had left Elwood alone when the other kids at school picked on him, now Mark was the loudest aggressor. Often, Mark would catch Elwood as he was just leaving school, making sure to knock him down or punch him in the face before anyone else had a chance to.

There was always a wild, sadistic fire in Mark’s eyes when he attacked, as if he was taking out all of his bottled up, insecure homophobic self loathing on Elwood every chance he got.

To say that Mark made Elwood’s life a living hell would be a gross understatement. In fact, Mark’s terrorism was part of the reason Elwood dropped out of school. Not that Elwood’s absence prevented Mark’s hateful behavior.

For years after the hand job incident, Mark would get drunk with his brothers and ride their dirt bikes onto Elwood’s property, circling his barn, revving their engines, smashing their alcohol bottles and chanting gay slurs until Elwood’s father would run outside with his shotgun firing into the air.

In recent years, Mark’s harassment had abated. In fact, Elwood couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to deal with an attack from Mark.

Until now.


You think this shit’s funny, faggot?” Mark screamed from his yard. He was about to cross the street. He was only wearing a loose pair of grimy white underwear. He was shirtless and wore no shoes. That would be Elwood’s only advantage.

If he had to fight Mark again, he wanted to it to be as far away from Mark’s house as possible in order to avoid the redneck’s brothers or any other white trash losers who might be hanging about.

The costumed clown veered right and trudged into the underbrush which sloped sharply. Another twenty yards and Elwood would be hidden from Service Road K altogether.

Mark’s homophobic slurs grew distant. Elwood felt an enormous sense of relief as he awkwardly navigated the thickening brush that was turning more and more into full fledged woods with each clown shoed step. Maybe he wouldn’t have to fight his psychotic neighbor after all. Maybe he’d lucked out and would be able to make his way back home through the woods and throw away the stupid clown costume.

He shook his head. What a stupid, stupid idea. He should have known better. He should have stayed in the barn where he was safe. Where he didn’t have to deal with any people.

Elwood nodded to himself. Once he got home, he’d abandon the idiotic scary clown idea and read some comic books. He smiled and plodded along toward home.

That’s when he heard the dog.

Back when Elwood had jacked Mark’s dick off, Mark’s German Shepherd Ruby had only been a puppy. Now she was a big, mean, vicious son of a bitch.

Ruby had been responsible for maiming and killing Mr. Keelen’s entire goat herd a few summers back, and all Mark and his brothers did for the poor farmer up the street was slash his truck tires and throw a brick through his front window when Mr. Keelen had threatened to call the Hopp’s county sheriffs if the boys didn’t get rid of the dog.

That was only one of the many atrocities performed by the filthy animal charging for Elwood right now. She’d killed other dogs, stray cats and generally terrorized anyone unlucky enough to walk past the Nelson property anytime she was left outside. Which was damn near all the time.

Why had Elwood allowed himself to walk this far down Service Road K? Again he silently cursed his dumb idea to act like a scary clown.

But he had no time to further lament his carelessness, Ruby would be on him in seconds. Her bark was practically right in Elwood’s ear when he finally stopped against a tree and turned around to face her.

Elwood had never actually seen Ruby close up. He’d heard plenty of stories about her, but now, standing there barring her fangs, barking at the top of her lungs right in Elwood’s face, he could see the battle scars all across her muzzle. Part of her nose was missing, maybe from a fight with another dog, maybe from Mark himself abusing her until she was a crazed monster.

Ok, ok!” He said, putting his big stupid purple hands out in front of him.

The whites of Ruby’s eyes were showing and white foam was building up on the corners of her gigantic mouth. She was ready to tear Elwood apart.

His breath was hot and stank inside of his clown mask. Sweat poured off his face and pooled around his chin and throat. He felt suddenly claustrophobic inside the whole clown getup. He ached to take it off. Take it all off. The mask, the gloves, the stupid fucking shoes.

Speaking had only made Ruby more pissed off. She lunged and snapped at him as he stood trapped against the tree trying to figure out how to get away from the vicious animal. Ruby inched closer and nipped at his puffy clown pants. She was judging her distance, deciding whether or not Elwood was too much of a threat to attack head on. She’d realize any moment that he was just a defenseless dude inside the scary costume and then… Elwood didn’t want to think about what would happen to him next.

That’s when the other clown showed up.


Be back here next Saturday, September 23th, for chapter 3! 

She Was Only A Clown- Chapter 1

SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday through Halloween. 

Chapter 1

Elwood pulled the mask over his head. Now he was Skitzo Cyko the killer clown. The mask was ugly and mean looking. It had tufts of gray hair poking out from random spots as if he’d yanked the rest from his scalp in some fit of hysteria or psychotic breakdown. The face had deep wrinkles and twisted into a grin that sat too wide and too long to be human. Inside the mouth, two rows of blackened, broken fangs jutted this way and that, forming a hideous maw.

Elwood’s clothing was baggy and torn. It was caked with dirt and grime. A clown suit that had once been bright and colorful, now stained, ripped and ruined.

He wore large rubber hands that ended in long purple talons and big purple shoes to match.

As Sktizo Cyko, he trudged along the dirt road that connected his property to the main highway just outside of Hopp’s Hollow Illinois. Moaning loudly, Skitzo held up a cardboard sign that read “The End Is Near! They’re All Laughing At You!”

He lived in the boonies in a tiny town called Medora, but so did a lot of other people. All along Service Road K, pickup trucks full of rednecks and sports cars full of teenagers who went to high school with Elwood traveled to and from the laughably small town square, or commuted back and forth to Hopp’s for work.

Elwood was trying to scare them.

He’d read about the scary clown epidemic sweeping the country on the Internet. He’d seen pictures of spooky clowns standing in the woods, waving slowly at children as they hurried past. He’d decided he wanted to be one of those spooky clowns.

Skitzo stayed just off the road, shuffling through the underbrush that hugged up against a dense woods to the south of Service Road K, but close enough to the road that cars and trucks that passed by would see him. All he had to do was wait.

That’s when he heard the first scream.

Growing up, Elwood was different from everyone else. He kept to himself all through grade school, which was fine. But it was once he’d graduated to middle school that the bad shit had started to happen.

He’d be sitting alone at lunch reading a horror comic book he’d gotten from his uncle Jeff, when a group of redneck kids would come over and knock the comic out of his hands. They’d inevitably mock him, humiliate him and beat him up for what had happened. Elwood tried not to let the other kids bother him when they called him retarded. Called him a murderer. But deep down, he knew they were right.

Uncle Jeff had been his lifeline. His window into the world of the weird. Uncle Jeff introduced him to ultra violent horror movies like Evil Dead 2 and Dead Alive. He’d played cool records for him from bands like The Misfits and Iron Maiden. Uncle Jeff always made Elwood feel like being weird was cool. That watching Nascar and drinking beer while listening to crappy country music was totally lame, even though everyone in his little town did it, including Elwood’s parents.

Jeff was Elwood’s father’s brother and even though he was in his twenties, he lived with Elwood’s family in their big farm house in Medora. Jeff lived there because his kid lived there with him.

Jeff’s girlfriend Tracey had been hit by a train one night when the pair had been messed up on pills, walking along the train tracks while their son, Jacob, was at Tracey’s parents’ house for the night.

Blaming Jeff, Tracey’s parents had disowned him and since his own parents–Elwood’s grandparents–were already dead, Elwood’s father had no choice but to let Jeff and Jacob stay with them.

Jeff’s parents had him late in life, while Elwood’s parents had him early, at just seventeen, so Jeff was just as close to Elwood’s age as he was to his father’s age going in the other direction.

That created a unique bond between Elwood and Jeff. A bond that served as an anchor for Elwood. Kept him sane. Kept him rooted in the real world when all he truly wanted to do was float off into his own imaginary world where people weren’t cruel and mean and full of hatred.

That was, until the night Jeff asked Elwood to watch Jacob while he scored some more pills.

It was only supposed to be for a few hours, but Jeff got fucked up and passed out at his dealer’s house, leaving Elwood and Jacob together all night.

The farm house was huge, with a full, finished basement complete with a bedroom, living room, bathroom and kitchen. The first floor contained another kitchen, bathroom and three bedrooms, dining room and living room, and Elwood’s grandparents had added a full second floor with three more bedrooms and a bath.

Elwood occupied the basement all by himself, which served his parents just fine. They’d acted like he didn’t exist since he was old enough to feed and bathe himself.

That’s where he and Jake were hanging out when it happened.

Jake was three. All blonde hair and big blue eyes. He looked just like Jeff. The two even wore matching Spiderman shirts sometimes.

Elwood had left Jake in front of the TV in the basement living room while he went upstairs to take out the trash.

When he came back down, Jake was in full seizure.

Later, at the hospital, it was determined that Jake had gotten up from in front of the TV and wandered into the bathroom where he’d found a loose thermometer laying on the sink. Elwood had been sick the previous week, and had left the thermometer out due to sheer laziness.

Jake sat back down in front of his show and started chewing on the mercury-filled glass vial. Within moments of it bursting in his mouth, he’d suffered irreversible brain damage.

Jake wore a helmet to keep him from hurting himself as he screamed and bashed his head off the wall eighteen hours a day, every day for the rest of his childhood.

Jeff never once spoke to Elwood about the incident, seeming to blame himself for blacking out on pills and not being home to look after his own son.

But there was a look in his eyes when he spoke to Elwood–and he only spoke to Elwood when it was absolutely necessary–a look that contained all the fury of heaven and hell. A look that said, “I wish you’d swallowed mercury instead of my sweet, beautiful, innocent son.”

And then one day, Elwood came home from school and found Uncle Jeff hanging from the rafters in the barn.

That’s when the kids at school had really started taunting him. Jeff may have never blamed Elwood for Jake’s accident, but the rednecks at school had no problem doing it for him. Then, after Jeff’s suicide, they’d blamed him for that, too.

The accident and subsequent death of his uncle had caused him to withdraw even further. Only speaking to his parents or his teachers when he had to. He sometimes went days on end without speaking to another human being.

As he got older and the Internet became a part of every day life, he was able to sink even further into isolation.

When he was 17, he’d dropped out of high school and moved out into the same barn Uncle Jeff had hung himself in, converting it into a kind of loft.

These days he only ventured inside his parents’ house to eat and to shower, which he did rather infrequently since going into that house meant listening to Jake’s screaming. The constant THUMP, THUMP, THUMP of his head against the walls upstairs.

After seeing the clown hysteria on the Internet, Elwood had taken the Hopp’s County quarter bus into Hopp’s Hollow and visited Baxter’s Party Supply store to buy the clown mask, gloves, shoes and outfit.

He’d stood in the barn loft many nights distressing the fabric of the clown suit and re-painting the mask to appear even more sinister than it already did.

He’d wear the full costume, just staring, perfecting his evil clown presence. He’d come up with his name and even given the evil clown demon a back story as a tortured soul who’d clawed his way out of hell, on the run from Satan himself, trying to suck enough souls to grow powerful enough to defeat the devil in combat.

He’d never admit it to himself, but he imagined the soul in question was that of his dead uncle Jeff.

He couldn’t place exactly what had drawn him to the clown hysteria in the first place. There was just something… right about striking primal fear into the hearts of those around him who had judged him so harshly, so mercilessly all his life.

Elwood smiled at the thought of causing one of the rednecks he’d gone to school with even a moment of fright when they saw him shambling through the underbrush.

Tonight was just supposed to be a dry run. A practice walk to see how many people he could scare as he limped along the road.

When he heard the scream, he was startled enough to flinch and spin around, forgetting the Skitzo Cyko persona altogether.

He’d flinched because it wasn’t a scream of fear. It was a scream of anger.

Hey! Motherfucker!”

Elwood recognized that voice.

Shit,” he said under his breath. He only then looked up for the first time. He’d been so into character he hadn’t noticed how far he’d walked down Service Road K.

Across the street was Mark Nelson’s house. And sure enough, that was Mark Nelson standing on the porch yelling at him.

Elwood turned around and started walking back the way he’d come, but it was too late. “You think you’re funny? You think that’s cute, bitch? Scaring people dressed up as a gay ass clown!”

Mark was stomping through his yard now. He’d be across the street and on top of Elwood in seconds. There was no way Elwood could get away from him in his big awkward clown shoes. He’d either have to take them off and try to run all the way back home or confront Mark head on.

He chose the latter.


Be back here next Saturday, September 16th, for chapter 2!