They fitted the Scotsman with a pair of concrete clown shoes, then carried him down the pier.
“Come on, Spotty,” the Scottish clown cried. “Just call my brother. He can get you the money. It’s only fifty large. He makes that in a week.”
Spotty didn’t have an ounce of sympathy in his voice. “This isn’t just about the money you owe, McClanky.”
“What do you mean? What else could this be about if it’s not the money?”
“You insulted Don Bozo.”
“What? When?”
“At the last poker game,” Spotty said. “You know, the one you weren’t supposed to be at because you were already fifty large in the hole? You said he was fat and that his jokes aren’t funny.”
“That!” McClanky cried. “That’s all?”
“Don Bozo’s a very sensitive clown. Your words hurt his feelings.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
“You also embarrassed him in front of his friends. A clown who isn’t funny isn’t much of a clown at all. And you know how it is, if he lets the insult go it’ll make him look weak.”
“I was just messing around,” McClanky cried. “Everyone knows Don Bozo’s jokes are funny. It’s my jokes that aren’t funny. Come on, you can’t whack me just for telling a bad joke.”
Spotty looked over at Pinky. “Is the cement dry yet?”
Pinky leaned down and poked at the long shoes made of concrete. They were twice the width and three times the height of normal clown shoes, and heavy enough to sink an elephant. The cement was still a little wet to the touch, but solid. “It’ll do.”
“Help me lift him up,” Spotty said.
Pinky grabbed the Scottish clown by his other leg, and they lifted him into the air. The guy weighed a ton.
“Come on, guys! You can’t do this!”
McClanky continued to beg and cry when they tossed him over the side, but the Bozos had no pity for a guy who insulted their boss. They waited for the sound of a splash to quiet his screams, but for some reason it didn’t come. The Scottish clown was still screaming and pleading for his life, as if hovering in midair.
“What happened?” Pinky asked.
“I didn’t hear a splash,” Nick said, standing behind them while straightening his bow tie.
Spotty and Pinky looked over the edge to see McClanky hanging onto the support beam, clutching it with dear life.
“That’s never happened before…,” Pinky said with a smile, completely amused by the situation.
Spotty let out a frustrated sigh. “We don’t have time for this.” He looked over at Nick. “Go down there and pry him loose.”
“What are you talking about?” Nick asked. “How the heck am I supposed to get down there?”
“Jump in the water and pull him off.”
“But then I’ll get my suit wet…”
“Then take it off,” Spotty said.
“Then I’d have to take off my bow tie. I never take off my bow tie. Not even when I’m having sex.”
“Do as you’re told,” Spotty said.
“Can’t we just push him off with a stick or something?”
Before the argument continued any further, Pinky climbed down the edge of the pier. “I’ll do it.”
Without jumping into the water, Pinky dangled toward the Scottish clown and kicked his fingers until he lost his grip. McClanky hollered as he dropped into the murky water, sinking like a tricolored bowling ball.
When Pinky climbed back up and wiped the dirt from his baby-blue suspenders, Spotty looked at Nick and said, “That’s why he’s getting made before you, Nick.”
Nicky Bowtie leered at the idea. “You think they’d really promote a half clown before me?”
“You forget we work under Vinnie Blue Nose,” Spotty said. “He only judges people by how they get the job done. And I tell you, Pinky’s going to be the next clown to get made.”
As they walked back to the car, Nicky Bowtie shook his head. “A half clown getting made in the Bozo Family? That’ll be the day…”