IntroductionI started writing this about two hours ago, having no knowledge that Ringo was embarking upon an epic and exciting "multi-angle" story. Upon posting, I realised that I had interrupted the flow and atmosphere of the thread. I don't want to ruin the 'vibe'. However, I now realise that removing this post' has caused even more trouble, so I can only think to put it back, and hope that it isn't too intrusive. So. Sorry everybody!
Enjoy!
Dr. Benway 16/07/03
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Goooooooood Niiiiiiggghhht!
ppppPPPPPRUMP! PUM! PUM! PUM! pum pu-
Another curtain lowered, another oversized shoe ruined.
As the ringmaster flung the curtains aside and emerged into the sweaty backstage, a grateful applause broke from the hands of children and their pleased parents. Balloons popped, peanuts scattered across seats, and programs were hastily bent into handbags and coat pockets. The sound of feet rose up to silence the clapping, and the audience sighed and laughed their way from the tent. A recorded drum march flitted around the ropes, props and wires at the top of the main ring, and the eldest and youngest members of the troupe began the thankless task of picking up the deposited rubbish.
Jonesy stared at the end of his size thirty four shoe. More specifically, he stared at the hole that exposed nothing but hot odorous air. Wiggling his toes, he wondered how much the repairs were likely to cost. Fifty? A hundred? It would be a dry week.
"Good show - Jonesy - good show. You were really good tonight..really funny..I think that you may have found it again... Well done.."
A hand brushed his shoulder as Gemini limped past. The 'tail' of her outfit trailed in the sand, leaving an uneven snake etched behind her. Jonesy glumly watched her arse as it moved inside the electric blue polyester. There was sadness in those cheeks. The hours spent perched on a two foot long pole had driven any joy from them, and now they displayed only graft and cramps. Resisting the urge to make a derogatory comment, Jonesy grunted his thanks, and sucked hard on the crumpled cigarette.
She wanted him out. They all did.
Immanot was probably already in the 'van with Big Daz, drinking Imported vodka and being congratulated on a job well done. If Jonesy listened hard enough, he could almost hear his laughter cutting across the ambient drone of the never-ending marching band. A hand touched him on the head, but he didn't lift his gaze from the broken shoe. He knew what that touch meant. It meant "Sorry....". It meant "I don't know what to say....". It was the end of a clown.
Jonesy had been the best in the business. Having grown up amongst the animals and performers of the famous "Seth Rue Extravaganza", there had never been any question in his young mind about his destiny. Ever since he saw his first ladder/hooter/loose trousers skit, he knew that he wanted nothing more than to feel the unrestrained hollering of a joyful audience. It was what had first driven to him take a pie full to the face - he could still remember the first time he heard an audience being muted through a thick earful of shaving foam.
Only, it wasn't the same now. The audience no longer laughed with him. They pitied him. He could feel it in the air. The hysteria was poised on the promise of a broken bone or a cut face. Falling over wasn't good enough anymore; now, you had to fall twenty feet and get trampled by a horse upon landing. It wasn't the meticulous choreography that they were watching; it was the humiliation and debasing of a failing man. The shoe was a sign. It was unlikely to get fixed.
Ringo poked his head around the corner of the backstage exit. His white and green hair was glowing under the light of the bulbs lining the tent, and hanging lamps threw macabre shadows across his painted face. Hey Jonesy, how are ya? That was pretty good tonight. Fancy a drink? There's some people here who want to meet you. Audience members. One of them is quite famous! Come on - meet your public!
Jonesy threw the cigarette butt down and ground it under the broken shoe. Before he had time to think, he went to wipe away the tears and smudged his makeup across his face, turning the cheerful smile into a blurred leer, spreading with malice across his stinging cheek. Some eager faces appeared below Ringo's, searching the backstage for evidence of props that could have been used in "Kovacs the Implausible??s tired trickery.
"Hey kids, wanna see something funny? BEEP BEEP!"
The children glowered at Jonesy as he lifted himself to his feet. As he did so, his trousers gracefully slipped to the floor in concert with a meagre squirt from the plastic flower on his forehead. A rage flashed through his muscles. That was Funny! You like that? Hey - he's Jonesy The Clown! He's ALWAYS funny. The Best Clown in North London. Go on Jonesy - take a fall! HAHAHAH!
A sob fought in his throat with a cry of anger, making his eyes well up. Immanot roared in the nearby caravan. Hey, Jonesy, there's somebody famous here to see you. From the Tele'! Does "National Lottery Jetset" mean anything to you? Huh? Can you guess who?
"Ah - is this the fellow? Jonesy, a wonderful show - simply marvellous. The kids and I loved it. I'm Eammon Holmes. I'm from the Tele'. How are you?"
It wasn't the only person that Jonesy had met from the Tele'. He had performed on the small screen himself some years ago, as a clown in a children's drama about a circus runaway. It had been a non-speaking role, and his tour of duty was cut short by a shattered jaw, but it would have been something to tell the grandkids about.
As the fat man waddled in the dim light across the backstage, Jonesy felt the last of his love fly away. Like an insect finally gaining freedom from a nostril, the tiny love briefly buzzed around his painted head, before zipping off and burning to death against a lamp. Its tiny heart sizzled instantly. Jonesy panicked - how was he to function without love? How could he have been so stupid as to let it go like that? The damn thing was so small; he hadn't even felt it burrowing up from the centre of his body. Nevertheless, it was gone. The red and white stripes of the tent seem to shine with a greater intensity, as if trying to peel away and fill the tiny space that had been left within him.
"Yes yes, you've probably seen me on GMTV, or the Lottery show? I'm very popular with kids, much like yourself!"
Nobody else had seen it leave. They didn't know. Well! I'll leave you two together then, shall I? Mr. Holmes - your kids will be waiting outside the tent for you - we don't let them backstage as they might get hurt! Jonesy - see you in Londie's 'van for a nightcap after you've done here? Remember as well that Big Daz wanted a word with you? Bye!
"So, Jonesy, I was wondering if you've ever done kids TV? I was really impressed with your show out there, and-
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Ladiiiiiies aaaaaaaaand Geeeentlemeeeeeen! We are very proud.....and very sad! Yes - that's right Immanot - we're all crying buckets!
(Immanot throws a bucket of water over Ringo, who returns it with a fake-jab in the guts. The crowd love it)
Because, ladies and gentlemen, tonight is a very special night. A very special night for one of oure most treasured performers. He's been entertaining you kids, and you adults for over twenty years! Can you imagine that, Immanot?
(Immanot scratches the top of his tiny hat in mock contemplation, then proceeds to slap Ringo in the face twenty times. Again, the audience go wild, and they fail to see the tiny tears that have risen in Ringo's bloodshot eyes)
Thaaaaat's right! TWENTY YEARS!, and tonight, ladies and gentleman, is his last night! Isn't that soooo soooo sad? So - he's going to do a special trick for us tonight - something first attempted by the great "Po-po the Clown" in Louisana at the turn of the century. Yes - you heard me right. So.... Without further ado, let me be the first to welcome, ON HIS LAST PERFORMANCE EVER - JONESY - THE CLOWN.....IN A CANNON!
(Immanot and Ringo both applaud and circle the ring. Whilst doing so, Immanot whispers to Ringo, informing him that he fucked his wife in the ass moments before they came on stage. Ringo goes to punch Immanot, who deftly dodges the blow and smacks Ringo around the head with the empty bucket. Ringo is out cold, and Immanot makes it appear as if he is waving his hand. Immanot drags him out of the ring, to the delight of the audience)
*Drum Roll*
Ladies and Gentleman! Hello! I am Jonesy the Clown! And tonight I will be attempting a trick that has not been seen on these shores for a loooong loooong time. It is my present to all of you for your support over the years! Remember- don't let that smile die!
Jonesy's voice booms around the speakers at the top of the giant tent. Gemini and Octavia, dressed in matching black and sequined leotards wheel out a huge prop cannon onto the ring. The audience gasp, and the children grab excitedly onto the coats of their parents. The anticipation is tinted with fear. Spotlights mounted on the rig to the side of the ring are darting around the audience, causing eyes and teeth to flash like cameras before the eyes of the Ringmaster. The Ringmaster holds his arms outwards in a theatrical manner, and then lets them drop, lowering his head and moving away from the centre of the ring at the same time. With the cannon in place, the spotlights fall onto a far wall of the tent, and onto the contraption itself.
*Drum Roll*
The audience hold a collective "ooh!" as a sheet of material unfurls against the wall. The spotlight is now clearly showing a red and white target, some forty feet from the ground.
"And now - I will fly! Ladies! LIGHT! THE! FUSE!"
There is a deathly silence. Parents hope that their children are going to be safe. They begin wishing that they had gone with their better judgement, and shunned the circus in place of a pizza buffet and action film at the local multiplex. In the backstage, a horse is stamping it's feet. A tiny voice can be heard "woah there...woah there lad...". The pause is sickening.
FLASH!
A great light emits from the cannon, and the ridiculously long and thick prop fuse begins sparkling. The glamorous ladies move away from the cannon, keeping their arms high and their smiles wide. Children place their fingers in their ears, parents notice the face of ringmaster appearing from the shadows as the fuse flickers towards it's inevitable conclusion. There is a fear on his face. And a mighty boom.
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In their recollections, the parents and children were very sure about a number of details. A clown was seen leaving the cannon at alarming velocity. The figure must have crossed the tent in less than a second, and soared like an arrow towards the target. The glitter explosions from around the ring made it possible for those sitting directly under the target to be able to make out the screaming face of the clown. After the brief flight, the speeding body hit the target with a noise like a cane upon wood. It was a quick cracking sound, and it echoed around the tent for what seemed like hours.
As the large heavy body dangled from what appeared to be a pole jutting out from the frame of the tent, the first sobs broke the silence. As the pole began to slowly turn on its axis, and the round pig-like body began sliding off on a film of slick blood, there were screams. Few people mentioned the pounding of freshly shoed hooves upon the hard baked ground of the recreational park.
Certainly, nobody recalled a cold and loveless laugh, drifting into the warm night air.
[ 16 July 2003: Message edited by: Dr. Benway ]
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I have shit on you, son