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The Clown Downtown

A regular guy encounters an irregular clown

By Andrew BrennanPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
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Donnie was riding the train into work as he usually does. He didn’t want to look up at the grey skies or check his notifications. His mind was on the unfinished work from last week and he had a fairly sore head from his weekend just past. Upon arriving at his station to change trains with only a few minutes to spare, he grabbed himself a coffee. His home-made instant coffee from his breakfast at home was not even close to returning him to a corporate cog again on this Monday morning.

“Have you ever mistaken salt for sugar before?” The barista asked.

“Fairly sure I’ve not.” Donnie replied.

“Yeah well it ain’t all that bad.” The barista said suggestively.

“Errrrr….I’m not really game to try it.” Donnie said,

“OK, I’m sorry sir, I need to start your drink again.”

A few minutes later his coffee was ready and he snatched it firmly and then raced over to his platform but he just missed his connecting train. “Tyrants!” he yelled. A group of people turned around to look at Donnie, as he yelled that. They were waiting for their train too but watching a clown perform for them. The clown glanced at Donnie briefly and then continued with his juggling clubs.

Donnie could feel the clash between his insomnia and that triple strengthened coffee. Life was OK but was about to change.

He anxiously stood around, awaiting his connecting train for the next 10 minutes watching the clown perform at the station. He had never been late for work but was afraid of the consequences that may bring in his fast paced work environment. When the next train came he made his way to the third train car. He grabbed himself a window seat and a woman dressed in corporate attire sat next to him. He peered into the distance with a deep exhale. Donnie distracted himself with his noise cancelling headphones as he opened his little black Moleskin daily planner to check his schedule. It seemed like it would be a typical day for him with the exception of all the loose ends leftover from last week. The woman next to him vacated her seat and immediately after that the same clown from just before sat next to him. The clown noticed the daily planner and planted a stack of post-it notes on one page of his diary.

Donnie, in a daze removed his headphones. Before he could ask the clown what he was doing, the clown peeled back the top post-it which had a sad face on it. Beneath it was an emotionless face. Then the clown removed that and beneath it was a smiley face. This was finally removed and beneath it was $20. The clown grabbed the $20 note and made it disappear and reappear a few times in different places on his person and eventually put it in Donnie’s top pocket. The train then came to a halt and the clown then left in a scurry as the train unloaded at a busy stop. It wasn’t Donnie’s stop so he remained seated and asked who the clown was but only received maniacal laughter in response from the clown and the usual inactive response from the public. Once the clown had left, Donnie returned his glaze back to his daily planner. Right there was a another post-it note on the diary that Donnie hadn’t noticed yet. It read, ‘What’s a rainbow without a pot of gold? Meet me at the Rainbow Café at 7PM tonight’.

Donnie was met with some stern words from his boss upon his arrival to work which was not the start to his working week that he had hoped for. After a dreary day at work, Donnie had been intrigued by the antics of the clown he had met that morning. What on Earth did this clown want from him? And why the 20 bucks? There was only one way to find out.

So at 7PM that night Donnie arrived at the Rainbow café. He ordered a pretzel and a red wine. He sat alone in a booth watching the Rainbow girls wait the tables. A carnie band was playing some music and he wondered if his clown friend was playing in the band. Some time later, his pretzel arrived. He had eaten most of it and then a man in a green suit sat down very smoothly just opposite him.

“Excuse me sir,” the man said, “May I have some of that pretzel?”

“Who are you?” Donnie asked.

“My name is Tyrone the tyrant. We met briefly this morning on the train”.

Now Donnie wasn’t particularly good with faces but this random guy’s eyes did seem familiar.

“Well I’ll be..”

“…Hey thank you for coming along tonight” Tyrone interjected. He continued eating the remainder of the pretzel.

Donnie continued, “It’s nice to meet you Tyrone. Look, I’m trying to piece this all together here. We met very briefly this morning, and I just…I don’t…what exactly do you want from me?”

With a face full of pretzel Tyrone murmured, “This is a good pretzel man.” He then slides over a business card. It read with big letters around a clown face ‘CLOWN’, an acronym for ‘Counterfeit Levy Of Winning Numbers.’

Donnie was confused and asked him what it was. Tyrone had finished the pretzel and he said, ”This my friend, is an advanced lottery syndicate that I run and I was looking for one more buyer. This morning when I saw you miss your train and yell out ‘Tyrants’, I felt that you would be a worthy contender. I only need one more player to join in this week and I know of a crack in the system.”

“And how does that work?” Donnie asked.

“Well I could tell you but if I did, you’d have to be sent to the lost and clowned.”

Donnie gasped with an exasperated face.

Tyrone continued, “It’s a hell of an opportunity and it only costs $50 to buy in. I cannot participate in it myself so that’s where you come in. You put your name on the ticket, along with some other entrants I have lined up and we split the rewards. Once you do win though, that’s it, you’re out and I’m on to the next one baby!”

“Hmmmmmmm…OK. And so why are you called Tyrone the tyrant?”

“It’s actually short for Tyrone, the tyrant slayer. My game is breaking down the big guys for your average Joe, like I do when I’m clowning.”

Donnie was feeling rather unsure about all of this but nonetheless felt as if he had to take a chance on Tyrone. Donnie had some expensive bills coming up soon but he knew that he had try something different in order to get them paid. After a few drinks together and a few laughs, Donnie left $50 and some personal details on the table for Tyrone. And then he made his way home.

Friday rolled around quickly and Donnie was once again awaiting the morning trains. Anxious about paying his bills that were due, he had no nails left to chew or ears to lean upon for support. He had struggled to sleep all week. Eventually he checked his bank account and noticed a whopping payment of $20050 had been sent to him from Tyrone.

“Tyrant slayer!” he yelled in excitement. His life had changed…

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About the Creator

Andrew Brennan

Wouldn't it be awful if you were a writer yet you couldn't describe yourself with words? And what's the deal with bios anyway? That sounds like something an Australian might actually pay for...maybe I should go bio myself a description?

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