Tears of a Clown

Jerry Dorn stood outside the apartment door with his hands in his pants. As he fumbled for his keys, he could hear the faint sounds of movement from inside the apartment, but he thought nothing of it. Jerry Dorn rarely thought of anything.

Eventually, he opened the door and stepped inside his own apartment. A crowd of clowns greeted him with mischievous smiles. I don’t remember those at all, Jerry thought as he looked at each clown to make sure they weren’t forgotten pieces of furniture. They weren’t, but Jerry didn’t bother himself too hard with the details of their existence. He walked to the kitchen and began making his favourite sandwich, peanut butter and jam. This upset the spirit behind the clowns.

Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings had expected Jerry to stop and scream in terror. Much like Jerry sustained himself on peanut butter and jam sandwiches, Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings feasted on the terror of mortals. And just like Jerry’s excursions to Taco Bell, Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings was in the mood for something exotic. He had never been in the realm of humanity, though he had often heard about their capacity for terror and so decided to venture outside of his usual dimensional jurisdiction to have a taste. Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings, however, was lazy on his homework. In researching humanity, he came across a Stephen King novel and a video game about zombies, and correctly deduced that clowns are often considered strangely terrifying. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of assuming that the most foolish of humans were also the most prone to terror.

As Jerry made his sandwich, Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings decided to take a more psychological approach to terror. He snapped his fingers, destroying the rest of the clowns, and approached Jerry alone. Jerry watched this from the corner of his eye but felt that spreading the jam evenly was more important. Nothing’s worse than a sandwich with uneven jam, Jerry thought.

As Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings snapped his fingers, this time in front of Jerry’s face, Jerry felt momentarily horrified as he spilled jam onto his plate.

“Dude,” he said, turning towards the clown. “My jam.”

“Did you hear that sound?” The clown asked, relishing in Jerry’s gaze.

But Jerry was looking at the clown’s nose. He wanted to squeeze it and see if it made the same noise as in the cartoons. At the same time, Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings watched Jerry and salivated. He thought he was moments away from tasting the delicacy of human terror, but Jerry caught him off guard.

“You mean the heater kicking in? It does that sometimes.” Jerry attempted to explain the old heater unit, but Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings was getting hungry and impatient.

“What? No, I mean when I snapped my fingers.”

Much to Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Being’s annoyance, Jerry turned his head back to his sandwich and started scooping the jam from the plate back onto the bread.

“Oh, yeah, that was kinda annoying.” Jerry was relieved that the clown wasn’t there to diagnose the old heater. He often wondered if there was something seriously wrong with it. But if it’s not diagnosed, Jerry thought, it doesn’t exist.

“That’s the sound,” the clown licked his lips. “Of every other person on Earth ceasing to exist.”

Jerry surprised himself when he laughed. He thought about all the times that he’d wished there were less people in the world. He thought about waiting at traffic stops and the game store line-up; he thought about crowded movie theaters, restaurants, and parking lots; he thought about people walking too slowly in front of him and too quickly behind him.

“Just imagine the line at the grocery store,” He smiled at the clown. “Am I right?”

Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings was astonished. At least this is going to be a dinner well-earned, he thought.

“Dude, I’m serious. I am a dark God capable of horrors beyond your wildest dreams-”

But Jerry already decided he didn’t care.

“Bro, chill, I get it.” Jerry said looking at the sandwich. “I’m gonna go to Disneyland and ride Splash Mountain as many times as I want.”

Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings wanted to slap the knife out of Jerry’s hand and jam it down his throat, but he knew terror by torture was never as delicious as terror from the mind.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? You should be screaming in terror like a character in a Lovecraft story! There’s no grocery store, there’s no Splash Mountain, and everyone you love no longer exists!”

Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings watched and waited for Jerry’s eyes and mouth to widen in terrifying realization, but instead, Jerry watched the floor as a large, orange cat waddled towards him and rubbed against his legs.

As Jerry bent down and petted his cat, he started to feel bad for the clown. Whatever it wanted, it obviously wasn’t getting it from him. He decided to help the clown in the best way that he knew.

“Do you want a sandwich, Mr. Dark God?” He asked.

Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings was defeated. If I can’t best the stupidest person on Earth, he thought, then I am a poor excuse for a God and I will never know the taste of human terror.

“No.” he said. An immense sadness poured over him and he began to shed a tear.

“Do you want to pet Elmer?” Jerry asked and pointed at the cat. “He’s really nice.”

Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings looked at the cat and wondered how Jerry was able to be so loving even knowing he was the last human on Earth. He had to ask for an explanation.

“I thought humans were profoundly social creatures?”

Jerry paused looking at the clown and finally recognized the mistake. The clown seemed to assume that human desires depended on the existence of others. And, for perhaps the first time in his life, Jerry paused, thought for a second, and said what he truly believed.

“That’s what we’re told when someone wants to take advantage of us.”

The dark God nodded, bent down, and petted the cat. He felt self-assured knowing that he had the ability to make the animal feel affection; he felt a selfish pleasure knowing that the cat wanted his attention; he felt gratitude towards Jerry for showing this to him.

Jerry watched this, but didn’t understand or care what was happening. All Jerry wanted was to play video games before it got too late. If it became too late, he would feel groggy when he woke up to watch the morning cartoons.

“Hey, Mr. Dark God.” He said through a mouthful of sandwich. “Do you wanna play Xbox?”

The dark God looked up at Jerry, still caught off guard by his nonchalance. “What do you have?” He asked.

“Left 4 Dead 2.” Jerry responded.

Rogensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings recognized the game. It was one of the human creations from which he learned that clowns were strangely terrifying. He liked the character ‘Coach’ because the character’s obsession with food resonated with the dark God’s appetite for terror.

“Can I play Coach?” The dark God asked.

Jerry shuddered. Coach was his character, he never played anyone else. But he could tell that it meant something to the clown, so he decided to allow it, just this once.

The two went into the living room and sat down on the crusty futon as Jerry booted up the game.  The loading screen reminded him of how much he enjoyed having other people to play with, and he decided to ask the clown for a favour.

“Listen, Mr. Dark God,” he started. “Obviously, your trick didn’t work. Why don’t you just bring humanity back and we can play with some other people?”

Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings looked at Jerry and felt admiration for his courage, dedication, and having bested him. He turned to his controller feeling excitement and forgetting about his hunger for terror. He breathed a deep sigh of consensual defeat and snapped his fingers.

Immediately, a child started crying in the hallway and someone in the parking lot blared on the car horn. The latter sound reminded Jerry of a previous thought. He reached out and pinched the clown’s nose. A loud honk filled the room. Rorgensh’Kar Destroyer of Beings laughed.