“Well, Peter, are you ready to save the world?” Adam asked.
“From darkness? Is that even possible? We shall all be enshrouded by its misery one day, enshrouded like a mummified mummy who has been enbalmed with the fluid of pain. What’s the point?”
“Uh…to save the world?”
“Oh, ok then. What do we do?”
Adam opened his mouth for a moment, and then shrugged.
“Aren’t you supposed to have a plan or something?” I asked.
“My plan was to find you here in Canada.”
Well, it seemed my new partner was about as useful as employing me as a motivational speaker…or so I’ve been told. I think I’d make an excellent motivational speaker. A lecture should never be without a suicide or two before the end, right? But I digress. My partner had no plan. Luckily, my emo brain was working overtime. And I knew exactly what we had to defeat to save the world…
Clowns.
That’s right. Ever since my mother put me in this bed, I’ve known their true nature. Pure evil. Their ever-constant smile is just a trick to lull us into the complacency of a George Bush leading a war. I could never get a wink of sleep in this bed. It took me years to be able to overcome the fear it instilled in me, until finally, after much soul searching and song writing, I finally slept in it, for a solid 30 minutes, at the age of 22. I then awoke, screaming and crying, my bed wet.
Adam and I travelled to the pit of Hell…the circus. It was here that we found the usurpers of the world. The clowns, their joy sickened me. As far as I’m concerned, and, as far as I’m concerned, my concern is the only concern that matters, any creature who shows no emotion but happiness is as evil as Walt Disney.
“Right,” Adam said, drawing his sword. “I’ll take this one, you take the happy-looking one.”
“Die, bringers of evil!” I shouted, and ran towards the smiling clowns, ready to tear them apart! And tear them apart they did…tear apart their souls! I proceeded to share with them tales of my dark and dreary life, of my girlfriend’s dying, and my other, illegal immigrant girlfriend’s deportion. And how now whenever I tell people about that deported girlfriend they all think she was Mexican. True, tragic tales.
Immediately, the death started. Mass clown suicide. A pitiful thing. But my tales of gloom was their kryptonite. As creatures powered by happiness, the opposite destroyed them. Just like how the opposite of cheese, cats, destroys mice. My logic was flawless.
Anyways, a few of the clowns had plugged their ears when I started my storytelling and they smiled at me. Real smiles, not painted on ones! This doubled my rageful rage!
Using my dark powers of telekinesis, I threw one high into the air. An elephant bellowed, and I turned and used my power on another clown of doom. I heard a snap, and a tear, before Adam shouted.
“Peter!” Adam called out to me. I turned to look at him.
“I DID have a plan to save the world! I forgot! But…uh…this isn’t it.”
“Oh,” I mused, scratching my head. I wasn’t convinced. I felt a darkness pass over the circus. A good darkness. The evil of joy had been exorcised. The world was a better place. It was…saved. But I thought I’d better humor my new partner, to make him think his plan was important (even though it really wasn’t, the world having been saved, and all). “Well, at least we had some fun, right? Damn clowns.”
“Uh, right. Well, shall we?”
So off we went again, to “save the world,” or so Adam thinks, which isn’t true, unless it involves clown killing, which I hope to God will be the case. Clowns dead. Children crying. World saved. Such is Peter.