A Clown For Valentine's
The first thing my sister Sheri ever said to me was "Go get me a plushie before I kick you in the ears."
Needless to say I didn't take the threat seriously. I mean, she's a tiny yellow Pteri, I'm a Mutant Aisha. She should be terrified of me.
And it hurt.
Shortly after I realized that my sister had to get whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted it, or else she would make a scene. Scenes were terrible things to make. She would scream and kick and throw herself on the floor until uninvolved bystanders would begin to question us. Did we feed her, keep her in a safe and healthy environment? Of course we do, stop looking at me like that. I swear I'm a good brother. I do everything she asks me to do.
I say within reason because sometimes her demands are rather outrageous. Like when she begs me to go get her Usuki Collectors Guidebook after she's dropped it off the third floor window of the Defenders of Neopia building. Then she screams when I refuse to go all the way down the stairs into the snow to get it for her.
I argue with her, until my owner gets fed up and tells us we both have to get it. I march down three flights of stairs, enduring my sister's horrible off key singing all the while. When we get outside she insists that I have to pick it up, even though she's the one who dropped it in the first place. I sigh and pick the book up, only to have her kick my leg, grab the stupid thing, and run.
She claims it was self defense.
I tell her she's crazy.
Events like that happen pretty much every day. Every day I put up with all her stupidity, and every day she continues to act as Queen of Neopia with me playing her humble servant.
But no more.
You see, I found out some rather interesting information about the little monster.
She's terrified of clowns.
It might seem like a cruel thing, to put that knowledge to evil use. You might call me an awful big brother for even thinking of the idea. But when you think about all the nasty stuff she's done to me, solely for the purpose of seeing me suffer, you realize she'll be getting exactly what she deserves.
I had planned it all very carefully. Every Valentine's Day my owner's friend Sarah throws a huge party for just about everyone she knows. It was at this party that I would finally get my revenge. I contacted the clown service ahead of time, telling them to send one of their squeaky-nosed, face-painted minions at approximately 2:00 PM. No one besides me (and my best friend Trackscare, a blue Gelert) knew of the surprise guest. It was perfect.
The party ran just as it should have, with the usual ceremonies of card exchanging, pinata whacking, and the showers of candy from the ceiling. I lay low in the dining room, chillaxing at the huge oak dinner table with Tracker on my right, and Sarah's pretty split Aisha RT on my left.
Tracker and I set off to find the she-monster. We searched high and low for the mass of yellow feathers known as Sheri Badairi. We finally found her sitting on the basement floor, chocolate cake on her wings and beak.
"Hey, Sheri," I said sweetly, crouching down to her level.
"Hi, Cobrall-face," she responded just as sweetly, causing my eye to twitch involuntarily.
Tracker cleared his throat. "There's a surprise for you in the kitchen, Sheri..." he said coolly.
Her eyes widened to unrealistic proportions. "Surprise?" She loved surprises. What Neopet didn't?
"Just follow us now..." I helped her up, dusted the multitude of cake crumbs from her front, and led her out to the kitchen.
The clown was already there. Right on time. Clowns like to be punctual, I guess.
Sheri did look. And her eyes got HUGE. She stood frozen to the spot, just staring.
I looked over at the clown. An eerily familiar pink kacheek, dressed in a goofy wig and a tacky colorful outfit with pom poms on it.
My other not-so-evil sister Rakshaeh, who was just walking in, dived for Sheri.
This, of course, only made Sheri scream louder.
And that, of course, made several of the younger party guests start screaming.
And that, of course made every petpet in the house start yowling, barking, and bleating.
And then candy streamed from the ceiling again, adding to the confusion.
"WILL EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP?"
It was the clown.
I stared at him, trying to recall where I had seen him before.
Then it hit me like a ton of Destruct-O-Match blocks.
"IT'S MR. CHUCKLES THE EVIL CLOWN!"
Everybody screamed again.
Mr. Chuckles raised his gloves and glared at me. "So you figured it out.. You puny Aisha. Ever since the Theme Parks went away I've been out of work.. Forced to entertain at spoiled, bratty kids' birthday parties.. WELL, NO MORE! MR. CHUCKLES WILL RISE AGAIN! MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.."
He took a deep breath.
Rakshaeh rolled her eyes. "That was the lamest excuse for an evil laugh I've ever heard. Who taught you, your grandmother?"
Mr. Chuckles looked offended. "Yes, actually. Granny had the best evil laugh this side of Kiko Lake."
"Obviously you didn't inherit it." I laughed, making Mr. Chuckles look even more offended.
"Hey... Where's Sheri?" Tracker changed the subject, looking around.
"Probably cowering somewhere in sheer terror and sobbing uncontrollably, why?"
"ENOUGH! PREPARE TO TASTE MY CLOWNY WRATH!"
"Does it taste like candy?"
At that point it was probably not the right thing to say, considering our friend Mr. Chuckles had badly drawn lightning bolts popping menacingly out of his gloves.
"FOOLISH AISHA! FIGHT ME!"
"Er. Well. I'm not a fighter really, I'll leave that up to my darling sister over here; feel free to set your clowny wrath upon her."
Tracker and I took off before Rakshaeh could say anything. "She'll be fine," I informed him, though I think I was really convincing myself. But she did have battledome experience... against the Chia Clown and the Pant Devil, but that's besides the point. She has weapons... In the attic upstairs. SHE'LL BE FINE.
In the meantime, I was a little worried about Sheri.
A LITTLE. Not much. She's still a horrible brat and I dislike her, but you know. I wouldn't want her to drown her in own tears or anything. So Tracker and I went to find the little demon.
She was a under a desk. Not crying.
"Hey Sheri," I said loudly.
She ignored me.
"How are you?"
She still ignored me.
"Scared of clowns, eh?"
She kicked me. She called me a jerk. She tried to run. But I wasn't having any of that. I pulled her back.
"Sheri... I'm sorry."
"NO, YOU'RE NOT!"
"No, really. It was a mean thing to do and I really regret it. But you know, I only did it to get revenge for all those times you were mean to me."
"I'm sorry for all those times then."
"NO!" And she kicked me again.
And she ran.
Tracker sighed. "I feel really sorry for you right now."
"You'll go though this someday." I assured him. I don't think he believed me. Poor fool.
Rakshaeh walked in, slightly battered looking. And also covered in pie.
"Did you get rid of the clown?" Tracker asked hopefully.
"Yes. Yes, I did. It was a long and difficult battle involving many a pie but I have returned victorious."
"But there's just one thing that made me wonder."
Please don't let her ask who hired a clown for Valentine's Day.
"Who hired a clown for Valentine's Day?"
Tracker and I exchanged glances. "I dunno. Was it you? Cause it definitely wasn't me, no sir." I smiled at her.
"It was, wasn't it?"
"I thought as much."
"Happy Valentine's Day, my friends."
"YEAH, 'CAUSE YOU WON'T BE ALIVE LONG ENOUGH TO SEE THE NEXT ONE!"
"Stuff it, birdbrain."
Ah, family love.