//------------------------------//
// 4. Wallflower’s Smash(ed) 
// Story: Wallflower's Rush 
// by Samey90 
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“Are you sure you can do this?” I ask, looking at Muffins unsurely. “It looks quite big.”

“Of course,” Muffins replies. “I’ve been training with Flash, you know. He’s pretty good at this.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t get to know him from this side. And it’s not like he remembers ever meeting me. Still, I don’t think you can handle this.” 

“We can bet.” Roseluck smirks. “You know it can spread quite a lot.”

“I’m not that experienced, frankly.” I smile sheepishly. Seriously, I forget about it more often than not. Healthy lifestyle is just not something you consider when you’re, well, me.

“Yeah, my stomach is pretty stretchy.” Muffins replies, staring at the Dunwich Horror – an absolute monstrosity of a sandwich consisting of like, a gigantic bread roll filled with bacon, ham, pickles, three kinds of cheese, four kinds of lettuce, tomatoes, and various sauces. It’s apparently a local pub’s specialty, or rather a trap for adventurous tourists. The whole thing is bigger than my head and if you manage to eat it, you get a t-shirt that says ‘I beat the meat’ and a nice photo on the wall of the pub. And then probably a long night in the toilet.

“You should probably try it too, Wally,” Daisy says. “You look like you could eat a sandwich.” 

“I’d rather settle on something smaller.” I reply. Well, last thing I ate was a hamburger and I’m rather hungry after the day of seeing things and interacting with people. I decide to go and order something.

By the bar, I meet Tempest Shadow. I expected her to eat something like steak tartare while drinking vodka from a beer tankard, but she’s just having a salad and some cider. 

“Hi,” she says. “Having fun?” 

“Yeah, kinda.” I try to smile, but I’m pretty sure I fail at that. “How about you?”

“Well, it’s better than some bars I’ve been to, although the den in Bombay was kinda fun.” She looks at her salad. “Not so fun for my lungs, I guess. And I don’t think they call it Bombay anymore.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I reply, wondering what to order. Eventually I settle for a smaller version of The Dunwich Horror. 

“It’s interesting that everyone still uses my old tricks,” Tempest says with a humourless chuckle.

“What do you mean?” I ask. Well, I’m waiting for a sandwich anyway, so I might as well engage in smalltalk like a normal person. 

“A transport of gold that disappeared from a bank in Tiraspol.” Tempest shrugs and takes a swig of her cider. “The guys dressed as a construction team parked a van in front of a bank on the weekend, when it was closed. Then they just went to the sewers, made a nice hole in the wall, dug a tunnel to the bank’s basement, disabled the alarm, and picked up the gold at their leisure.”

“How do you know?” I ask. Did I mention I wanted a normal conversation?

Tempest chuckles. “I still have that pickaxe. And some worthless Transnistrian rubles.”

“Is Count Dracula still looking for his gold?” I ask. When the situation gets uncomfortable, it’s best to make a joke. Or so I’ve heard.

“Transnistria, not Transylvania.” Tempest rolls her eyes. “As for the gold, let’s say that it wasn’t the best idea to make a run for Italy only to get lost in Bosnia back then. That’s why you should stay in school and learn geography.”

“I was always more into biology.” Seriously, where’s my sandwich? I want to get out of here. 

“Speaking of, they seem like a bunch of amateurs.” Tempest sighs. “Seriously, clowns? Why not Salvador Dali outfits? And on the day when there’s a bunch of bonsai nerds hanging around? Not to mention that their driver thinks with his stomach. You may have met him.”

I nod. “Oh yeah, he bumped into Lily.”

“If they want to do another bank, they should get rid of him.” 

“Good thing it’s their problem, not mine.” I grab my sandwich and go back to the table where Muffins is in the middle of the fight against the Dunwich Horror. 

Given that the sandwich looks like something Shaggy and Scooby Doo put together during a particularly bad fit of munchies, I kind of expected her to just swallow it whole, but she split it into several portions and eats each of them like a professional competitive eater. Maybe she’s one, who knows. When it comes to Muffins, I can believe pretty much anything. 

“Are you really gonna eat all that?” I ask. My sandwich is pretty tasty, but if it was any bigger, I’d probably spend the next few days lying down like an anaconda after eating a capybara or something. 

“It’s all a matter of technique,” Muffins replies, wiping the sauce off her face. “Also, I’m thin so my stomach can expand more. Pinkie wasn’t happy when I ate more cupcakes than her once.”

“So you do this professionally?” I’m pretty sure there are better career paths. Like, this can’t be healthy. If only because of the amount of exercise she needs to do to stay in shape. 

Or maybe I’m just biased because I’m getting short of breath on the way from the changing room to the gym. 

“Nah, I’d rather not,” Muffins replies. “It always reminds me of that story Applejack told me. They went to Mexico with Rainbow Dash and they accidentally met Indigo Zap.”

I’d ask who Indigo Zap is, but then I remember that she apparently drives like crazy, couldn’t steal a school bus, watches crappy horror movies, dates Bulk Biceps, and is pocket-sized. That’s a lot, given that I’ve never met her in my life. 

“They ate some Carolina Reaper peppers on a dare.” Muffins takes another bite of her sandwich. “Apparently it was fine when they ate it, but not as fine when it came out, you know…”

“Muffins, stop before I lose my appetite,” Daisy mutters. 

“Yeah, the last thing we need is imagining Rainbow Dash in the toilet,” Roseluck says.

Daisy furrows her eyebrows. “You just had to say that, didn’t you?”

“Well, Muffins doesn’t mind.” Roseluck points at Muffins, who’s currently finishing another bit of her sandwich. There’s still about a half left, but Muffins doesn’t seem to be fazed by it at all. In fact, she burps and grabs another bit of the sandwich.

“I haven’t seen that much ham since the cafeteria ran out of peanut butter crackers and Trixie had a fit,” she says. “Hmm, extra bacon. Also, I don’t mind being told about gross things while eating. I mean, have you ever eaten hákarl?”

“What?” I ask. 

“Fermented and dried shark meat.” Muffins shrugs. “It’s better than it sounds. Or smells. Or tastes. I mean, it kind of smells like ammonia and rotten fish.”

Lily winces. “I don’t think anything edible should smell like this.” 

“We should go to Iceland one day. I’d show you volcanoes.” Muffins smiles. “If you read Verne, then you may remember that Snæfellsjökull showed up in Journey to the Centre of the Earth, and of course everyone remembers Eyjafjallajökull…”

I swear, she didn’t even stutter on those names. Also, I hope no one makes me climb a volcano. Knowing my luck, it’d explode or something, and I don’t wanna be remembered as someone who got fried in lava, Gollum-style. 

I finish my sandwich while looking at Muffins struggling against her food. Apparently the roll itself is the biggest problem, mainly because chewing through it all is a challenge. 

“My jaw hurts a bit,” Muffins says when I ask her about it. “But other than that, it’s fine.”

“You’re not gonna throw up? I’d like to remind you that we share a room,” I say. To think about it, if she does, it’ll be easier to hold her hair back so she doesn’t get it dirty. I don’t have such luck, but at least no one remembers those situations but me.

“And let all this food go to waste?” Muffins takes another bite of the sandwich. “Never.” She looks at the plate and smirks. “Guess we’re getting a selfie soon.”

“Yay!” Lily exclaims. “Just because you ate it?”

“Well, of course.” Muffins points at the cork board on the wall, with several Polaroid photos of people who successfully defeated the Dunwich Horror. Some of them look like they’re about to throw up; maybe one of them is as happy as Muffins, but according to the label, this photo is from 1987. Time to add another one to the list, I guess.

“Okay, I’m done.” Muffins burps. “What’s for dessert?”

“You want dessert too?” Roseluck shudders. “I wouldn’t eat anything for three days if I were you.”

“Of course,” Muffins replies. “There’s a separate stomach for desserts, don’t you know?”

“I don’t think it works that way.” Daisy says. A waitress approaches us with a Polaroid camera which is probably older than her. Muffins gets her t-shirt and immediately puts it on. Yes, it does say ‘I beat the meat’. I’m not sure I’d dare to even sleep in this one, but some people have no shame, I guess. 

Hmm, if I were a guy, sleeping in that t-shirt would be quite accurate. I mean, that’s what I usually do before falling asleep. 

Huh, who’s shameless now?

The camera flash almost blinds me. When I regain my sight, the waitress is already giving us a copy of the photo. I look pretty stupid, but at least I am in the picture. In twenty years, I’m gonna show it to my kids. Or, more likely, my cats. Muffins probably also thinks something along these lines – she grabs her phone and calls someone. From the context, I guess it’s Flash Sentry. She’s telling him that they need to bring their kids to this pub one day. I’m pretty sure the guy just started to book the plane somewhere far away. 

“Hmm, we’d better check on The Great Roberto,” I say. The party’s getting wilder and the last thing I need is vodka, dancing on the table, and flashing your boobs to strangers. Not that it ever happened before, but better safe than sorry. 

“Yeah.” Muffins stands up and pats her stomach. “I could use a little walk before the party goes really crazy.”

“Those are gardeners,” Lily says as we try to get through the crowd. “How crazy can they get?” 

Muffins shrugs. “Either they’ll get into a fight over bonsai trees or someone will flash her boobs to everyone. By someone, I may or may not mean myself.”

Oh boy, here we go. Isn’t Iceland, like, too cold for such things? Though then, it’s Scandinavia. They probably sit in some sauna or something and then run around naked in the snow. 

On a second thought, this may be Finland. And I should really stop imagining Muffins doing that. 

Finally we get out of the pub. The air is kinda chilly, which manages to stop my inappropriate thoughts. We walk across the parking lot. I look at the bank, thinking about what Tempest told me.

“Wait.” Roseluck looks at the van we left in the parking lot. “It’s not our van.”

“What are you talking about?” Muffins asks. “The clowns had a similar one, but they  took it and it must be ours. They had the keys, remember?”

“Yes, but our van had a bumper sticker,” Roseluck replies. “Some kind of a chicken.”

“It was a griffon, you moron.” Lily sighs. 

Muffins walks to the van. “Maybe it fell off. Let’s see if it’s ours.”

Lily produces the keys, immediately furrowing her eyebrows. “That’s not my keychain,” she says. Yeah, her keychain was some kind of a skull, but this is clearly Koro-sensei from Assassination Classroom. I guess at least one of the clowns was a fan. “It’s some weird yellow octopus.”

“Yeah, it’s Koro-sensei,” I reply because well, we finally reached the area of my expertise. “He blew up like half of the moon and wants to do the same to Earth. But he’s also a teacher.”

“What?” Lily looks at me unsurely. 

“I can see that.” Muffins chuckles. “I mean, I can imagine Miss Cheerilee doing that.”

“To stop him, his students must kill him,” I say.

“Nah, we’re not killing Miss Cheerilee.” Roseluck furrows her eyebrows. “No matter if she wants to blow up the Earth or just Big Mac. Though in the latter case there’d be no ‘up’.”

“After we’re done, you can have this keychain.” Lily rolls her eyes and unlocks the van. “Let’s see, it must be ours.” She opens the door. “Oh, are you kidding me?”

I take a peek inside. Well, something is definitely wrong here. Like, I thought no one puts money in bags anymore, especially the ones with a big dollar sign in the front. And yet, there’s inexplicably quite a few such bags in the van. In fact, it’s full of them and I hope no one’s looking at us because I’m pretty sure this is not legal. Like, isn’t it the money from the bank?

Muffins walks to the nearest bag and opens it. There are bank notes inside, of course. Yay, we’re rich… and probably getting arrested soon. 

“What do we do with this?” Daisy looks at the money. “I know of a shelter for rescued goats which desperately needs money.”

“As long as we leave enough for us to go to Bahama Islands,” Lily smirks. “Who needs school if you can just sit in the sun, right, Wally?” 

I start to think about the possibilities. On one hand, that’s a lot of money and we didn’t actually steal it. The clowns got the wrong van; that’s an honest mistake.

“Wait!” A tiny voice in my head shouts. I look around and see a little Wallflower in a white robe floating in front of me. Great, I’m still high. She actually took time to comb her hair and she wears a white robe, complete with wings and a goddamn lyre. 

“Who the hell are you?” I ask. 

“I’m your conscience.” She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Do you know how hard it is?” She grabs a notebook and opens it. “I have to write monthly reports, you know? Somebody up there must be reading them because I didn’t get a raise in years!” She flips a page. “January: Lust, Sloth, Envy. February: Lust, Sloth, Wrath, Envy. March: Lust, Wrath, Gluttony, Envy. April: Envy, Wrath, Lust. Afterwards, at least you eased up on Envy, but still you tick all the boxes except Pride. And that’s just the deadly sins. How am I going to explain such a blatant display of Greed?” She conjures a bottle out of thin air and takes a long swig. 

“I’m sorry, I mean…” I furrow my eyebrows. “Wait, gluttony? Seriously? What would you say about Muffins?”

“We don’t talk about her guardian angel.” My conscience sighs. “Poor girl is having a panic attack anytime she sees a bicycle.”

“Well, well, well…” Another voice calls. I look to my left and see another Wallflower. This one has horns and her hair is actually made of vines, surrounding her like tentacles. She wears a skimpy outfit and looks like a mashup of me and Gaea Evefree drawn by an insane mangaka. “I see you’re still trying to lead her down the path of righteousness.” She turns to me. “I’ll lead you down the path that rocks!”

“I’d ask who you are, but I think I get the idea,” I say. “I guess you think we should take the money?”

The evil me grins. “Of course! We could make a big garden with it! And then we could hire some hookers so you could roleplay your favourite anime scenes with them!”

“Oh, don’t remind me about anime.” My conscience shudders. “Some things just cannot be unseen.”

“Oh, you won’t be able to unsee much, much more.” The evil Wallflower lets out a particularly villainous laugh. I’m pretty sure she practices in front of the mirror. Assuming she can actually see her reflection. “Come on! Don’t you want to be rich?” 

Yeah, get rich or die tryin’. So far, I’m much closer to the latter. 

“I’d like to remind you that those guys have The Great Roberto,” my conscience says, crossing her arms. “And I don’t think they know much about caring for bonsai trees. I mean, they messed up a simple heist.”

“Wait, you’re right!” I exclaim. “I forgot about The Great Roberto!” 

“Who are you talking to?” Daisy asks, giving me that kind of look one usually gets before calling the police or paramedics. Trust me, I know that look. Some of my memory stone antics weren’t exactly pretty.

“What?” I try to give her a look suggesting that she’s seeing things, but I guess my kung-fu is too weak for that. 

“You kind of zoned out and then you shouted ‘wait, you’re right!’ to no one in particular.” Lily shrugs. “Though those guys indeed took The Great Roberto with them.”

“We need to find him!” I exclaim. “We have to drive to them and ask to give him back! And then we can give them the money.”

“Not all of it,” Roseluck replies. “I mean, we should get a half.”

“At least,” Lily says. “I say, we get sixty percent or else they won’t see any money.”

Muffins clears her throat. “I’d like to remind you that those guys robbed a bank. They may as well put us in concrete boots and throw us into the ocean.”

“Good thing Dunwich isn’t near the ocean,” Roseluck replies. “I’m afraid of drowning.”

“So they’ll just shoot us and bury us in the forest.” Muffins shrugs. “Whatever floats your boat. I guess we should call the police.”

“And they’ll keep The Great Roberto in some evidence storage?” I sigh. “Never. We need to get him back.”

“We don’t know where those clowns are, anyway.” Muffins replies. “Maybe the circus just rolled to another town or something.”

“Their car has GPS.” Daisy points at the device. “Do you think they set the home location?”

“If they did, they’re the dumbest robbers ever.” Roseluck turns the GPS on. “No way… They did this! I could rob a bank better than this!”

Lily shakes her head. “Oh, sure, and then you’d lose your nerves, get diarrhea and we’d have to find you a new pair of undies.” 

“That only happened once!” Roseluck exclaims. I really didn’t need that mental image, thank you very much. 

“Yes, but it was because you got a bit carried away with a lawnmower and mowed a patch of rhubarb.” Lily winces. “I saw and, unfortunately, smelled what you do when you feel guilty, so I don’t think you’d be able to rob a bank.”

“Do I have to remind you what happened when you found rabbits in the garden?” Roseluck asks.

Muffins groans. “Girls, we really don’t need to know this. Just don’t leave your fingerprints all over the place and call the police or something. Then we can share embarrassing stories about not making it to the toilet in time.” 

“I need The Great Roberto back,” I reply. “Maybe we’ll just drive to their place, see what it looks like and then call the police? Maybe then they’ll give us The Great Roberto.”

“You’re not afraid of clowns, are you?” Muffins asks.

Oh girl, you have no idea. With all the things I’ve been through in my life, clowns are the least of my worries. 

“Of course not,” I reply. “Why would I be afraid of clowns?” I turn to Lily. “Let’s hit the road. I want to see where those guys live.”





“Are you still not afraid?” Muffins asks me after about fifteen minutes of driving down the empty streets of Dunwich in the middle of the night. As it turns out, one of this town’s peculiarities is a huge, abandoned amusement park somewhere at the outskirts. And of course, this is exactly where the GPS leads us.

“Not bad at all,” I say, looking at the dark silhouette of a Ferris wheel and something that looks like broken tracks of a rollercoaster. There are trees growing between them and, given how big they are, the amusement park must’ve been ditched at least thirty years ago. I’d rather not be here, to be honest, but hey, those guys have The Great Roberto. “What do you think, girls?”

Only now I notice that Roseluck and Daisy are hiding in the back of the van, shivering. Lily doesn’t look much better, but at least she has the steering wheel to hold on to. 

“Why did they abandon this place?” Daisy asks.

Muffins smirks. “It was built on the Indian burial ground.”

“Maybe we’ll, uhh… come back here during the day?” Roseluck asks. “Or at least after we visit some gas station or something. I need to go to the toilet.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Lily tries to smile, but it looks like she’s going to kill Batman. “It’s just an amusement park. Nothing to worry about.”

Muffins grabs her phone and checks something. “Okay, it seems that someone fell out of a rollercoaster and snapped his neck. Then someone drowned in the swimming pool, then another guy lost his head during a bumper car ride and they closed it due to all the lawsuits. Nothing supernatural in here.”

“How do you lose your head during a bumper car ride?” I ask. 

Muffins shrugs. “I don’t know, when I ride bumper cars injuries happen to other people.”

Lily parks the van next to a rusty carousel. Empty bottles scattered around the place tell me that the local teenagers still find a lot of amusement in this park. We look around, but it’s pretty dark and there’s not a trace of clowns anywhere. 

“What do we do? Do we split up?” Daisy asks.

“Split up?” Roseluck shudders. “The horror! Do you have a death wish or something?”

“Did you know that some guy designed a rollercoaster that is supposed to kill every passenger with extreme g-forces?” Muffins smiles and kicks the carousel. “As if the normal ones weren’t crazy enough.”

“Finally something for me,” I mutter. “I like brushes with death.”

“I don’t think death likes brushes with me,” Muffins says. “Though it likes to give me signs, like when I rode a bike and fell into the well… Then Indigo came up with an idea to watch Final Destination during a movie night and now I wonder what will happen to me.” She shrugs and looks at the derelict rollercoaster. “Damn, I developed an irrational fear of toasters.”

“Don’t worry, the modern ones don’t zap you if you drop them into the water,” I say. “You just blow all the fuses.”

“Oh, so you tried to make toast in the bath too?” Muffins asks. “I once got up late and tried to take a bath and make breakfast at the same time. It didn’t go well.”

“Yeah, let’s say I did exactly that.” I nod and smile. 

Daisy looks around, startled by creaking of some old, rusty equipment. “Okay, so where are the clowns? Maybe we should stop playing Scooby-Doo and go home?”

“That’s what I was saying, but when I, for once, say something reasonable, no one listens to me.” Muffins rolls her eyes. “I’m calling the police and we call it a day.” She grabs her phone. “Oh great, no signal.”

“What?” Roseluck tries to play it cool, but I noticed that she keeps trying to hide behind someone; either Muffins or me, probably assuming that I’m not afraid. Yeah, sure, girl. In case of a monster attack, my plan is to outrun someone and hope the monster will stop chasing us after eating them.

Great, now I realised that most likely everyone will outrun me. 

“Wait, I can see a van over there,” Lily says. “See? Between the bumper cars and the house of mirrors.”

How can she see anything, I have no idea. It’s getting quite foggy, which only makes the amusement park look even creepier. I walk closer to the bumper cars track, with Roseluck following me closely. I guess she’s pretty sure that she can outrun me.

“Didn’t someone lose their head here?” she asks in an unnaturally high-pitched voice. 

“Don’t lose yours,” I reply. “You’d get blood on my sweater.”

“I was going to ask,” Muffins says. “Do you have a wardrobe full of identical sweaters or do you keep wearing the same one?” She sniffs the air. “I actually have a theory, but maybe I won’t share it.”

“Yeah, we’re in the creepiest abandoned amusement park and the thing you worry about the most is my personal hygiene.” I sigh. “If we get killed, it won’t be your pro–” Suddenly, I trip over something and fall face-first into the mud. What’s worse, I must’ve turned something on, as suddenly the lights of the bumper car track flicker, accompanied by the distorted, slowed-down rendition of Entry of the Gladiators played on the fairground organ.

It doesn’t last long, though. The speakers choke and the music dies down in throes of static, just as the lights go out. I get up and see that Roseluck is trying to catch a breath while Lily is carrying Daisy on her back – well, most likely Daisy just jumped on her.

“Okay, I don’t need to go to the toilet anymore…” Roseluck mutters.

Lily winces. “Seriously!?” She shakes Daisy off her back. “Do we need to put you back in kindergarten?”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t, like, a big deal.” Roseluck smiles sheepishly. “Still, we’d better go back to the van…”

“I’m not driving with you!” Lily exclaims.

“Girls, we probably woke up every clown in the area,” Muffins says. “Once I’m able to call the police, I’ll do this. Though I wouldn’t count on them bringing you a new pair of pants.”

“Before that happens, I want to check that van.” I walk towards the house of mirrors. For some reason, no one really follows me, though I don’t exactly blame Roseluck here. Eventually, Muffins sighs and joins me. 

That’s okay, I guess. Two dead bodies in an amusement park will look better in the news than one. 

There’s no one in the van. Not even The Great Roberto. Too bad we don’t have keys or else we could just swap the vans back. 

“Look.” Muffins points at the house of mirrors. The door is slightly ajar and it seems the light is on. I’m pretty sure I’m pushing my luck today, but we get closer to the building. Daisy, Lily, and Roseluck join us too. Can you imagine five bodies being found in an abandoned amusement park? The media will talk about us for weeks. 

I push the door open. “Is there anybody out here?” I ask.

“Are you crazy?” Lily hisses.

Never happy with me, I see. “Well, what am I supposed to say? Hello, Mr. Clown, do you maybe have my bonsai tree?” 

“It’s not like anyone’s here anyway,” Muffins says. 

Indeed. I look at the room we’re in and while it’s the house of mirrors, the mirrors are long gone. Instead, there’s a few mattresses on the floor, empty pizza boxes, and an old TV. Kinda like in my room, I’d say. There are also, however, a few submachine guns scattered around, as well as a shotgun, and an M16 rifle. Quite unlike my room, to be honest. And they bothered with digging a tunnel to the bank? They could probably just besiege the place or something.

“Seems they left in a hurry.” Daisy points at the checkerboard on the table. Apparently the clowns had no pieces, as they used ammo in their place. “They didn’t even finish the game.”

“Yeah, but maybe the guy with .45 ACP resigned,” I say. “The guy with 9x19 mm Parabellum has three kings, represented here by shotgun shells and while his opponent has one,” I point at the 5.56x45 mm NATO cartridge standing on the board, “he also has less pieces left.”

“Should I be worried?” Roseluck asks.

“That I play checkers?”

“No, that you, of all people, know the names of all those bullets.” Roseluck replies.

“Cartridges.” I take one of the .45 ACP rounds. “Bullet is just this part, but there’s also the case, rim, primer, and propellant.”

“That doesn’t make me any less worried!” Roseluck exclaims.

“Oh come on, I don’t want to shoot anyone!” I sigh. “I just get really weird YouTube recommendations.” 

I also may have tried to make a custom Counter-Strike level that’d look like Canterlot High, but Roseluck already peed her pants and I’m afraid she didn’t say the last word in this matter yet. 

In the dim light of the room I notice that I got mud all over my sweater. Damn, now I’ll have to wash it. I take it off, even though I’m pretty sure what will happen next. Muffins looks at me and I can already see it in her eyes.

“Oh, so that’s why you’re wearing a sweater,” she says, looking at me.

“Hey, don’t judge me,” I reply, looking down at my t-shirt. This one has Scrat from Ice Age on it, looking like something bad is about to happen to him. To think about it, he’s my spirit animal.

“I don’t,” Muffins replies. “I’ve seen you unpacking your clothes and I didn’t say anything, remember. Also, I really like your t-shirts, though the one with Bert and Ernie may be pushing it.”

“What’s wrong with Bert and Ernie?” I ask.

“Nothing,” Muffins shrugs. “I just never trusted Bert.”

“We can talk about it later, after we find The Great Roberto.” I look around the room. “I think the clowns may come back. Do you know how much those guns are worth?”

Lily looks at the M16. “Do you think we can sell those to some–”

Oh, come on! I’m so surrounded by idiots that soon I’ll turn into Skeletor. “It’s not a video game and we’re not stealing their guns to sell them. Especially the full-auto ones, I’m pretty sure none of them is legal.” I sigh. “Let’s see what’s in the other room.”

I push the door on the other side of the room. Hoo, boy. The good news is, I found The Great Roberto. The bad news, however, is that the clowns are also there. More exactly, one of them and he’s not very threatening at the moment.

Mostly because he’s dead. It seems that, even though the house of mirrors right now has more guns than mirrors in it, someone found it more appropriate to hit the clown with The Great Roberto’s pot. The pot, being very expensive, withstood such a hit. The clown’s skull, not so much.

“Hey, what’s going on in–” Muffins stops in her tracks. “Oh. Roseluck, don’t come here!”

“Why?” Roseluck asks, peeking inside. 

“Because your sphincters aren’t very trustworthy,” Muffins replies. Still, Roseluck takes a look at the body and grabs her stomach, wincing. 

“Did you find a dead body in there or what?” Daisy asks.

“Something like that,” Muffins replies. “Don’t move anything, it’s a crime scene or something. Let’s get out of there. Rose!”

“What?” Roseluck asks.

“If you throw up here, I’ll kick your ass. Let’s go and call the police, before–” 

Suddenly, I hear the sirens outside. Followed by the sound of a helicopter, as well as a bunch of cars braking hard in front of the house of mirrors. Strong lights nearly blind us through the windows. Just great, either some UFO just landed in this cursed amusement park or we’re getting arrested.

I’d rather prefer UFOs, to be honest. Unfortunately, the guys who burst through the door look quite like the police. If we had any doubts, the shouted orders to drop our weapons and come out with our hands in the air would quickly help us get rid of them.

“Don’t shoot!” I shout, raising my hands. 

To think about it, I’m pretty sure I look exactly like Scrat on my t-shirt.