and the clowns! What the hell were all these clowns doing here? I just couldn’t look at them. With every ounce of will I had, I wished them away. As I’ve told you before, clowns make me itch. Just the thought of them. I mean, who the hell goes around in white makeup and baggy pants scaring innocent children at birthday parties? Psychopaths, that’s who.
I said my goodbyes to Jennifer, patted Sparky on the head, and made my way toward the Valley. I could only do so much for these people; now it was up to them. My right arm still hurt from the beating it took, my pants were irreparably torn, and for some godawful reason my left shoe was covered in honey. I never did find out how that happened.
As I increased the distance between me and the small group gathered outside the Langston Bar & Grille I thought to myself, “This wasn’t such a bad day; not such a bad day at all.”
Then I saw Billy. Shit.
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