Monthly Archives: August 2012

THE RED JOKER ON BEHALF OF CLARA LOOMIS

STATUS: TERMINATED
VICTOR: BLAIR
POINTS AWARDED: 95

GOODBYE, MRS. LOOMIS.  YOU WERE A TOUGH OLD BITCH.


Preparation

Came up on a hive of Jack Frost’s  children.  Damn kids popped up out of nowhere.

Hauled Blair up on Windmill and tore up turf escaping.  Windmill’s a cold beast hisself, so their grabby little hands didn’t bother him none.
But they caught sight of us now, won’t be no escape.

Told Blair what to do.  Gave the kid baby Samantha’s scarf and plonked my hat down on the kid’s head.

Breath is showing like smoke in the cold air.  The laughter is coming for me.  Made my peace and said my goodbyes.  Be seeing my loved ones shortly.

Don’t cry for me, Blair.  You’re stronger than you think.


Hunger

Not sure I dig the ear thing.  There’s a lot of blood in an ear, who knew?  It takes like an hour or two before it stops dripping, and they smell kind of ripe after a couple of days.  Tis isn’t so interested in trophies.  Eh, it was a dumb idea anyway.  It’s slowing me down.

I saw a guy on a motorcycle.  That was cool.  I wonder if I’m as fast as a motorcycle.  I almost challenged him to a race, but then he whipped it around and ran over some guy’s face.  I don’t think I want to know what would happen if I lost.  Well I’d die, I guess.  Duh, dumbass.


Tools

Found a strange machine last night.  Came with a little red bow.  Suspect that red lightskirt left it there.  Blair helped me puzzle out the book what came with it.  Guess it’s called a “grenade launcher.”

Test-fired it at a tree.  Splinters everywhere now, and Windmill spooked so bad it took near two hours to calm him down.

Only came with three grenades.  Fired the one and figured we’d save the other two for the Hanging Man.  Woke up with three.  Tracking down the Hanging Man now.  Monster’s leaving a trail of bodies, purple-faced, swollen and broken.  Other bodies too, from other monsters.  Slashed to bits, crushed, torn apart.

Spending too much time around monsters.  Starting to forget what being human is.  Only Blair and a small bit of silver to remind me.


Winners

Blair is going to win this game.  Kid’s still whole enough, the only one who’s got any hope of staying sane.

Winning’s not an option for me.  Not no how, not no way.  Baby Samantha’s never getting her winter set.  Hat’s too small, but scarf’s long enough for Blair.

Nice tight twist to the yarn, tension’s good and strong.  Strong enough to end a man’s life.  Gotta remember to tell her to tuck the ends under her shirt so they don’t get caught on anything.  Or by anyone.


Laying low

It’s my turn for a new tail now.  We’d picked out another hiding spot where I could muffle my screams in Tis’s lap while she strokes my hair.  The bones twisted and crackled and muscle shifted to become stronger, tight and sleek.

During one of my more lucid periods, she covered my mouth with her hand and pointed.  Through the bushes that masked us, I could see some deranged jackass storming by and shouting for me and Tis.

Awesome.

Found the guy’s blog, apparently he’s after us now for killing his friend.  Got some news for you, buddy.  We can see you.  We can see every move you make, and now we’re faster and stronger than you could ever hope to be.

Don’t know why Tis is such a bigger threat than I am.  I like to think we’re equal partners in this relationship.

It’s almost time to take this new tail for a spin.


Explaining Debbie

I’m no fool, I can see I’ve got readers on this blog.  And a few of you might be wondering “You know that Tis is the one who killed Debbie!  How can you team up with her?  How can you justify tarnishing your friend’s death by banging the freaky snake-lady who bashed her skull in?!”

Because she’s hot as a fox, that’s why.

I kid.  Debbie was a nice girl, but there was no way she could have survived this tournament.  She was just too nice.  The way I see it, Tis did her a favor, killing her before she broke down.  Debbie wasn’t the kind of person who could make the hard moral decisions we have to make now.

Or maybe I’m just a stupid fucktard who let my hormones run away with me.  You know what, maybe I don’t need to explain myself to you!  Maybe your opinions don’t matter and you can all just go fuck off!  What’s done is done, and I am sick and tired of people judging me.  If I’m not good enough for you, then you can just go to hell.

Maybe Tis is going to kill me one of these days when my back is turned.  Well maybe I’ll do the same fucking thing when the option presents itself.  I’m not the naive idiot that Debbie was.  Maybe you all need to stop underestimating me.