The bathroom was full of cowering wedding guests. Two of them were security guards he’d hired for the event, the only two left alive. When Jojo saw them, he was pissed.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” he yelled at the security clowns. “Get the hell out there and do your fucking job.”
The clowns wouldn’t move. Jojo didn’t have the patience to deal with them.
“Suit yourself,” Jojo said, then he pulled out his handgun and shot them both between the eyes.
The other wedding guests screamed as the security clowns flopped to the floor. When Jojo turned his back, they ran out of the bathroom before he turned on them.
He ripped open his shirt and wound up his heart. Then he washed his face and pulled up his shirt to examine the dent in the side of his chest.
“You really fucked things up, didn’t you?” his reflection said to him.
Jojo couldn’t disagree with himself. “Yeah, I sure did, didn’t I? You think Taffy will ever forgive me?”
“No.” His mirror image laughed. “You turned the happiest day of her life into a bloodbath. Did you see her groom out there? You nearly got him killed.”
Jojo groaned. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“So what are you going to do now?” his reflection asked. “You just going to hide in here until it’s all over?”
“That’s what I was thinking, yeah,” Jojo said.
“Are you that big of a coward? Your daughter’s still out there, so is your wife and brother. You’re the one who caused this mess. You should be the one to fix it.”
“What do you expect me to do? Kill all those French bastards single-handedly?”
“Yeah, if you have to. Or you could die trying. That’s what a real clown would do.”
Jojo shook his head. “It shouldn’t last much longer. I’m just going to let it run its course.”
“You worthless piece of crap,” the mirror said. “Are you telling me when this is all done your only contribution will be killing two of your own guys for hiding in the bathroom?”
“Guess so,” Jojo said.
His reflection shook his head at him. He didn’t respect himself in any way at that moment. “I thought you were a clown with brass gumballs. What happened to you? You’ve become soft in your old age. Where’s the clown who helped build the Bozo Family from a group of no-good gutter brats into the kings of Little Bigtop?”
Jojo couldn’t look himself in the eyes.
“You need to go back out there and show those bastards what you’re made of,” his reflection said. “It’s the least you can do. If you won’t do it for yourself, at least do it for your daughter. Do it for your family…even if they all probably want you dead.”
Jojo took a deep breath. He checked how many bullets he had in his clip, then held it up and nodded.
“Okay, we’ll do it your way,” Jojo said. “We’ll show them just what kind of stuff Uncle Jojo’s made of.”