Clowns on Thursday Afternoon.

ENTERY IN THE DAILY FLASH FICTION CONTEST


I came in through the back door from the ally and made my way past the two bathrooms and past the soggy cardboard beer cases stacked high along the wall. I could hear a football game coming from a television down the hall which surprised me since it wasn't football season.

When I got to the bar, I saw something even more strange and took a moment to stare. Two men were sitting off by themselves at a corner tablet. They wore colorful wigs and bright red rubber noses and had white face paint which stopped three quarters of the way up their foreheads. They were in the shadows, but if they were trying to hide, they were doing a piss-poor job of it.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder at the bar sat six men I knew well. They were hunched over watching a twenty-year-old 49ers Super Bowl game on the tv with their backs to the men in the corner.

“So, like... who are those two clowns?” I whispered, thinking the question alone was worth a laugh, and took the seat next to Freddy chuckling to myself.

“Rodeo's in town,” Freddy whispered back, his eyes moving from the tv to the long mirror behind the bar. My eyes followed.

“You telling me you haven't been sneaking around with Shanna!” hissed the clown with yellow hair. Then his voice changed to a whimpering squeal. “I thought you and me was friends, Rusty!” He tore off his rubber nose and slammed it on the little round table like an exclamation point.

“Yes," the clown with blue hair said. “Your wife is a skank!”

There was a great roar from the television set above our heads. “Out of bounds!” Freddy said.

“Definitely!” agreed Paul.

“You been sniffing around her since Tulsa!” The yellow-haired clown shouted.

“Ya gotta be kidding me, Barney! Have you actually seen your wife? Truly, I'd rather drown in my own vomit!”

“Off-sides!” Paul called out. He pointing at the television and shook his head in disgust.

Lon shouted, "Got to be a flag on that one."

“I am not going to listen to this!” said the one with yellow hair. He stood up, threw money down on the table and took long, floppy steps in his green shoes out the open door.

“Delay of game!” said Paul. "Going to cost 'em five."

“Naaa,” said the remaining clown. “End of the first half. He'll be back. He forgot his nose."

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