ClownFellas is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Hydra eBook Original
Copyright © 2015 by Penguin Random House LLC
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Hydra, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
HYDRA is a registered trademark and the HYDRA colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
eBook ISBN 9780804179355
Cover design: David G. Stevenson
Cover illustration: © Paul Youll
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Ranks in the Bozo Crime Family
Part One: City of Clowns
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Part Two: The Juggler Brothers
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Part Three: A Sad Day for a Happy Clown
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Part Four: Funny Business
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Part Five: The Unwhackable Bingo Ballbreaker
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Part Six: Wedding Day
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
About the Author
Ranks in the Bozo Crime Family
Boss
Don Bozo
Underboss
Uncle Jojo
Street Boss (Top Capo)
Vinnie Blue Nose
Capos
Lorenzo Laffypants
Beano Moretti
Buggy Buttons
Jimmy Bozo
Chunks Santoro
Soldiers (Made Clowns)
Captain Spotty
Bingo Ballbreaker
Hats Rizzo
Jackie the Grump
Winky Gagliano
Snuffy Sparkles
Puppets Palisano
Associates
Pinky Smiles
Nicky Bowtie
Spanky Carbone
Tickles Valentino
Drips Moretti
Zippo Moretti
Others
Earl Berryman—a veterinarian
Miss Tina—runs Rainbow Gardens brothel
Reverend Jellybottom—a preacher
Mr. Pogo—a contract killer
Slicey—runs the organ black market
Taffy Bozo—the boss’s niece
Happytooth—the boss’s lion
Mittens—a bulldog
Part One
City of Clowns
Chapter 1
“So you the doc?” the clown asked in a deep, raspy voice.
Earl couldn’t even respond to the question. He just stood on the curb, frozen in shock, trembling like a chicken about to get its head bitten off by a sideshow geek. Ever since he was a kid, Earl Berryman had been terrified of clowns. There was something about their googly eyes, inhuman smiles, and skin-curdling giggles that made the poor schmuck cry like a baby. You’d think he would’ve grown out of it, him being an educated man and all, but over the years his phobia only got worse—especially now that there was a whole race of clowns out there, walking around New York in their size 30 shoes.
The clown leaned out of his lipstick-red car. “Hey, foureyes, I’m asking you a question over here.”
Only spittle and gibberish sprayed out when Earl tried to speak. He hadn’t been this close to a clown since his mother hired some junkie to dress up in clown makeup for his sixth birthday party and the freak went into a drug-induced seizure, puking white foam all over his Power Rangers birthday cake. Earl thought he’d be able to handle spending a single day with a group of clowns, but his coulrophobia was getting the better of him. He already regretted taking this job.
“I’m here to pick up a guy named Berryman,” said the clown. Smoke billowed out the car window, but there was no sign of any cigar or cigarette. “If that’s you, get in the freakin’ car. If not, then get lost.”
&n
bsp; Sweat pooled inside Earl’s slate-gray suit. Every fiber of his being begged him to turn around and run in the other direction, but he had to be strong. His family was depending on him.
After taking a deep breath, Earl said, “Yeah, that’s me.”
“Then hurry it up already. I’m on a schedule here.”
Earl picked up his case of medical equipment and rushed toward the tiny car. The smell of rotting cotton candy and cheap gin hit him in the face as he squeezed into the passenger seat. The interior was a swirl of pink and blue, with a stick shift that looked like a giant lollipop and purple balloons that hung from the rearview mirror like fuzzy dice. It hardly looked like the vehicle a killer would drive.
“They call me Captain Spotty,” the clown introduced himself, holding out his hand to shake.
When Earl looked at him, his skin crawled. With his wild-eyed stare and permanent crazed smile exposing a row of black rotten teeth, Captain Spotty was the single most terrifying clown Earl had ever seen. His style was that of a hobo, with a patchwork coat made of green-and-orange plaid. A family of cockroaches scurried beneath his shabby clothes, crawling in and out of his collar and up his neck. Earl had to hold his breath to stop himself from screaming.
As Spotty shook his hand, the paper-white clown skin felt cold and rubbery to the touch. Earl knew clowns weren’t human, but he didn’t realize just how inhuman they really were until he felt one in the flesh. He jerked his hand away as a cockroach crawled out the clown’s sleeve and tickled his knuckle.
Captain Spotty wiggled his bright-red nose when he saw the uneasy look on Earl’s face. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re shitting bricks over there.”
“No, I’m just…” Earl diverted his eyes.
“You wearing a wire?” Spotty asked.
“No, no way,” Earl said.
The clown pulled a pink knife out of his bow tie. “I’ll slit your throat if you come into my car wearing a wire!”
Earl had no idea where the clown’s outburst had come from. He shrank into the corner of his seat as the knife approached his throat. The blade was carved out of a watermelon Jolly Rancher, the edge sharp enough to cut through flesh.
He cried, “Why would I wear a wire? I’m just a veterinarian.”
“A what?”
“An animal doctor.”
“How do I know you’re not some cop pretending to be an animal doctor?”
Spotty waved the candy blade at the vet, his maniacal grin growing wider on his face. This clown wasn’t just scary. He was also a genuine honest-to-God psychopath.
“Look.” Earl dug his wallet out of his back pocket and held out his employee ID card. “I work at the Bronx Zoo. I have a degree in wildlife medicine. I’m not a cop. I’m just a normal guy.”
The clown peered at the ID with his bright-red eyes.
“Then why are you so nervous?”
“I’m just…coulrophobic.”
“You’re what?”
“I’m afraid of clowns.”
The clown looked Earl in the eyes, then back at the ID, then back to Earl’s eyes.
“I’m not wearing a wire, I swear,” Earl said.
Then the clown burst into laughter.
“Of course you’re not wearing a wire,” Spotty said. “Why would you be wearing a wire? You’re just an animal doctor.”
The wallet nearly fell out the window Earl was trembling so hard.
The clown cackled. “Lighten up. I’m just bustin’ yer balls.”
“It was just a joke?”
“I’m a clown.” Spotty put the shift into gear, beeped his high-pitched horn twice, and sped into traffic. “That’s what we do.”
It was quickly turning into the worst day of Earl’s life.
Chapter 2
As Captain Spotty drove toward Little Bigtop, New York’s infamous clown neighborhood, Earl did everything he could to calm himself down after having a knife shoved in his face by the deranged jester. Although the vet’s phobia was getting worse by the minute, his nervousness seemed to amuse Spotty to no end.
“You’re coulrophobic, huh? So are you one of those schmucks who believe that clowns hide in your closet at night and feed only on puppies and children?”
Earl shook his head. “No, it’s just I—”
“Well, I’ll have you know those rumors are grossly exaggerated. I haven’t eaten a puppy in years. And children give me gas.”
Spotty giggled at him. Earl didn’t think it was funny.
The clown came inches away from running over a jaywalker without batting an eye. “So if you’re afraid of clowns, why’d you agree to take a job with the Bozo Family?”
Earl shrugged. “My wife’s been out of work since the recession last year, so we’re up to our eyeballs in debt.” He didn’t like talking to the clown about his personal life, but talking seemed to ease his anxiety, so he continued. “My youngest daughter goes to a school for autistic children. It’s expensive. My mother-in-law has cancer treatments I’m responsible for. That’s even more expensive. Without this job, we’d probably be out on the street in a matter of weeks.”
“The Bronx Zoo doesn’t pay you enough?”
“Not as much as your boss,” Earl said.
“That’s for sure,” Spotty said. He lifted his scruffy porkpie hat and untangled a cockroach that was entwined in his frizzy green mop of hair. “When it comes to something he loves, Don Bozo spares no expense. And there’s nothing that man loves more than Happytooth—that pet lion of his.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why did your boss choose me? Doesn’t he already have a vet that takes care of his lion?”
“He did have one, but the putz didn’t catch the tumor until it was the size of a cantaloupe.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means he wasn’t doing his job. When you don’t do your job, Bozo gets pissed. And when Bozo gets pissed, he feeds your ass to Happytooth.”
“Oh…”
Earl’s anxiety flared up again. Although he was considered an expert in the field of wildlife medicine, he never thought he’d have to stake his life on his veterinary skills.
The Bronx Zoo didn’t pay him as well as Don Bozo, but at least they didn’t feed him to the animals he failed to cure. Earl was just thankful that this was only a onetime gig. If it were a permanent position, the vet figured his life span would probably be cut pretty short.
“You ever been to Little Bigtop before?”
Earl shook his head.
“No, I guess you wouldn’t have, you being afraid of clowns and all. It used to be a lot nicer in the early days, but the place started going downhill once they let all the riffraff in. Still, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.”
Earl saw a cockroach crawling on his knee, wiggling its antennae as it explored the sweat-drenched fabric of his pants. He raised his fist to smash it, but then stopped in midair as Spotty said, “What do you think you’re doing?”
The bug turned to Spotty, looking up at him as if it were a kitten caught in a mischievous act.
“Luigi, leave the vet alone,” he said to the roach. “Get back over here.”
On command, the cockroach fluttered its wings and returned to Spotty’s coat.
Pretending he was raising his hand to do something other than smash the clown’s pet bug, Earl scratched the back of his neck.
“I’ve been training them since they were larvae,” said the clown, smiling at Luigi and stroking its upper abdomen with a bright-green fingernail. “They’re like my children.”
Earl nodded, still scratching his neck.
Spotty looked the vet in the eyes. “Nothing personal, but if you try to smash any of them again you’re going to find yourself at the bottom of the East River.”
Earl put his hands in his lap and examined his surroundings to make sure there weren’t any more cockroaches crawling near him that might get accidentally squished. There was no telling how serious the mad clown really was about his p
et bugs.
Chapter 3
Although Earl despised clowns, his youngest daughter, Mandy, adored them. She had dozens of clown dolls, she decorated her room with clown faces, had clown sheets and a clown lamp. She even dressed up as a clown every Halloween. Earl couldn’t have been more ashamed of himself for being terrified of his own daughter when he took her out trick-or-treating each year.
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