Circus of the Dumb

Chapter 3: The Star

✨Content warning: This chapter contains implied sexual assault and graphic depictions of gore. Papa loves you...✨

"Let's try and be discreet this time, hmm?"

Papa Corn was eyeing the taller clown intently, his arms neatly folded against his chest. This was far from his first attempt at enforcing the concept of discretion, though he had previously utilized the term "incognito" and received poor results. He was hoping now that a slight change in vocabulary would do the trick. Mister Blister merely offered a grunt in reply, as was typical of him, one gloved hand simultaneously moving to light the cigarette perched between his lips.

"That'll be all for now then, Mister Blister," Papa concluded, his tone gentle in contrast with his somewhat intimidating posture. He watched closely as the man wordlessly exited, a faint trail of smoke following him out of sight.

"What about Jackson?" Pipette questioned as she wandered over, her voice intentionally low.

"He'll be with the babysitter," Papa warmly replied, his lips turning up into an amused smile now as he envisioned the resulting torment. "Well taken care of, I'm sure." His expression then returned to one of peaceful thought as he properly faced the woman, who was mindlessly fiddling with her suspenders. "Would you go and join the others, Miss Pipette?"

The clowns, understandably, did not legally own any vehicles. It was necessary that they frequently swap methods of transportation in order to maintain a level of secrecy to their activities—or, simply put, to avoid a run-in with the law. The van four of the clowns piled into following an evening performance, the night sky providing a decent cover for their mischief, was a rental that likely wouldn't even be reported stolen until the morning, and by then it would be long discarded. It slowly, silently tailed its target along the city streets, observing as it swerved just briefly before pulling into an empty, off-road parking lot. It was only then, accompanied by a disappointed, albeit unsurprised sigh from Papa, that the van saw fit to unload its passengers. "I guess discreet isn't in Mister Blister's vocabulary either," the clown calmly stated as he exited the vehicle from the passenger side, swiftly making his way to the car parked beside them. Upon approaching the driver's side window, he tapped thrice upon the glass, prompting it to roll down several seconds later. "Well, hello there," he murmured amusedly; returning his gaze was a rather terrified-looking individual, a young man perhaps in his twenties. Sitting next to him, looking equally as scared, was a young woman—presumably his girlfriend. Situated just behind them both was Mister Blister, the gun in his hand aimed at the driver's head.

"What a lovely pair," Papa Corn softly commented as he looked the couple over, one hand shuffling through the bag resting at his side. He pulled a small bundle of playing cards from the deck within, bringing them to the car window as he began to gingerly sift through them. "Let's see..."

"W-what do you want from us?" The driver stammered, his hands practically glued to the steering wheel with nervous sweat. "You can take whatever you want, just please don't--" His dialogue quickly tapered off as Mister Blister nudged the back of his head with his gun, and Papa hardly seemed to take notice of his intercepted plea in the first place, his gaze slowly shifting back upwards once he had identified the card he would use for this particular scenario. As if proving some sort of point, he dramatically turned the card of choice to face its victim, and the frightened man simply gawked at it, uncertain of its meaning—it was yet another visibly aged card, this time depicting a blue star with the words "LA ESTRELLA" printed in bold below. Papa grinned as he allowed his eyes to flicker between the driver's face and his shirt, the large star across the chest revealed by the moonlight.

"Mister Noodledome," he began, addressing the oversized clown who had by now sauntered over to observe the scene, "take care of our little friend here, would you?" He didn't bother to delve into specifics as he left the window, and then Noodledome himself was eagerly taking over. There were cries of startled terror from both the driver and his partner as the car door was suddenly yanked open, the man hefted from his seat and thrust into the cold night air. Mister Blister exited from the backseat, keeping his gun aimed at the individual struggling in Noodledome's arms as Papa Corn hastily approached the passenger window. There was already spittle gathering on his chin as he jerked open the door, earning more frightened screams from the girl inhabiting the front seat. He could only emit a grunt of effort or two as he forced her out of the car, one arm tightly secured against her waist while the other fastened itself around her throat.

"Emily!" The panicked driver shouted in response to his girlfriend's cries, though the only response he received was a handful of elated giggles from the clowns tormenting him now; both Jumbo and Pipette had joined the little party gathered by the driver's side of the car, and the latter was wielding a large chainsaw dirtied from previous use, her expression matching the others in terms of excited amusement.

"Hey, there," she playfully greeted the man, whose eyes widened significantly as he registered what the petite clown was holding. The chainsaw looked rather heavy in her arms, contrasting with her stature as she began to raise it upwards.

Meanwhile, the four clowns' current activity just barely masked the reality that was poor Emily's circumstances; the whirring of the chainsaw, followed by bursts of laughter from the group enjoying the resulting show, was occasionally and briefly accompanied by shrill wails from the woman pressed against the asphalt, her clothing now torn and discarded by the clown hovering over her. His own screams, exaggerated, mocking imitations of hers, melded with the overall noise.

The ground became doused in fresh blood, littered with scraps of flesh and muscle that had been torn free by the chainsaw. Several of the now unconscious man's fingers could be seen resting in small puddles of gore, likely to be retrieved by Noodledome later, and his left forearm had been severed as well; Jumbo was giddily waving it around amidst the excitement, causing a small spray from the limb's stump that only furthered the need for eventual laundering. The chainsaw's blade had taken to digging into its victim's shoulder, grinding its way downwards as its audience looked on with glee.

Once Papa had concluded his own business, he pulled on his pants and retrieved his coat, adjusting it accordingly as the violated woman remained on the ground, her tears mixing into the gravel. She made no move to get up just yet, likely frozen in place by the utter shock and despair that resulted from her previous experience. She only resumed a brief attempt at struggling when her assaulter knelt down to approach her once more, his gloved hand now donning a pocket knife that hovered as he used his weight to silence her resistance. "Quiet now, you little slut," he practically growled as he yanked her head backwards with a firm grip on her hair, and then he was promptly digging his knife into her throat with harsh, raking movements.

The van had already been abandoned, devoid of presence as the clowns began the process of cleanup. "Mister Jumbo, remove the evidence," Papa Corn breathed as he returned to his cronies, their giggles gradually dying down now that they had effectively made an absolute mess. Noodledome was cradling the deceased man like a newborn baby, grinning absurdly as he used an index finger to wipe the blood trailing down the driver's chin and bring it to his mouth. Jumbo accepted Papa's request with a quick salute and a small, familiarly animal-like noise, casually tossing the disembodied arm to the ground as if it had never meant anything at all. He hopped over to the discarded van as Noodledome followed suit, intending to dispose of the dismembered body alongside the stolen vehicle.

With Pipette and Mister Blister left, Papa eyed them knowingly, his arms folded across his chest as he gave a harsh nod in the direction of the woman he'd assaulted; she was still splayed out on the ground, dressed in only her undergarments as blood continued to trickle down her neck. Hardly a word needed to be said, for these kinds of situations were dealt with too frequently for anybody to question Papa's orders. Pipette aided Mister Blister in hauling the naked corpse into the trunk of the new car, and then the two vehicles were departing the neglected parking lot, temporarily going their separate ways.

"Wonder if Jackson's having as much fun as we are," Pipette jokingly commented as she relaxed into the backseat of the car, and Mister Blister, chuckling from the driver's seat, casually brought his cigarette to his lips.

"Pro'lly not."