The clowns piled into Captain Spotty’s little red car. There should have only been enough room for two people in the backseat, but somehow Vinnie, Hats, and Jackie the Grump all fit back there without a problem. When Earl looked back, the three clowns seemed to be occupying the same space. They overlapped one another, like a hand of cards.
“It’s how so many clowns can fit in a clown car,” Spotty said when he saw Earl’s confused expression.
“How does it work?”
“How should I know? I don’t even know how a microwave works. But if we had a dozen guys with us they’d all fit back there as well.”
They left Little Bigtop and headed out to Earl’s house in the suburbs. The vet prayed they’d get there on time. He didn’t care what happened to himself anymore, but he didn’t want to die knowing he’d brought about the demise of those he loved most in the world. At one moment, he realized the clowns didn’t scare him anymore. The thought of what was going to happen to his family was far more frightening than some irrational phobia. These clowns weren’t monsters. They were his only salvation.
“So what are these French clowns like?” Earl asked the driver. “I’ve never even heard of Le Mystère before today.”
Captain Spotty tensed up when Earl mentioned their name. It was then that the vet realized these clowns were just as nervous to go into this fight as he was. Spotty squeezed the steering wheel tightly as he spoke. “Le Mystère isn’t like the Bozo Family. These guys are kind of a new wave of clown. They do things different—let’s just leave it at that. They don’t respect the clowning traditions that our people value so dearly.”
“Have you been at war with them long?”
“We’re not officially at war. Not yet, anyway. There’s been a truce between the two families ever since they arrived in Little Bigtop five years ago. But they’ve been pushing us, trying to elbow in on our territory. And now they make an attempt on the boss’s life. After this, those avant-garde bastards are gonna have to make amends or I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“Hey, Spotty,” Hats said from the backseat. “Why are you talking to a dead man?”
“None of your business, that’s why,” Spotty said.
“Well, why don’t ya keep your fat mouth shut.”
Spotty and Hats were the same rank, so the putz couldn’t tell him what to do. Still, when Spotty and Earl looked at the clowns in the backseat the expression on Vinnie’s face said that the lot of them oughta keep quiet and get their heads in the game. They had no idea what they were about to walk into.