5. Wallflower’s Cash
I really didn’t think anyone still used cassette recorders. Also, I totally forgot how much sound they can record. Not that I told the policewoman everything. For starters, I decided not to mention getting high on Lily’s pills and I decided to reduce the part about Muffins eating a sandwich to an absolute minimum. When I tried to explain some anime reference, Copper Top started to yawn and roll her eyes, so I decided to continue. Normally, I’d be offended, but given that she’s armed and I’m handcuffed, I’m not quite in the position to complain.
When I finish, Copper Top flips her sunglasses and looks at me. “Okay, either all of you are nuts…” She stares at my t-shirt and sighs. “Pun not intended. Either all of you are nuts or you’re actually telling the truth. There’s no way you’d come up with such a stupid alibi. Unless…”
I swear, she’s trying to pierce me with her gaze.
“You may have purposefully come up with such a stupid story so we’d believe that it’s too stupid to be fake.” She shrugs. “I’m pretty sure we’re actually touching some paradox here, but–”
The door to the interrogation room opens and another policeman walks in. “Excuse me, Copper, but there’s a woman here, who wants to talk with you.” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “She looks like she fought a lawnmower once and I think she’s not quite right in the head, but she claims to have new evidence in your case.”
“Of course I have!” Tempest Shadow bursts into the room. “I called you in the first place.”
“You called the police?” I ask.
“Yes, I saw that you noticed the van swap and followed you to see if you’d take the money or not,” Tempest replies. “When I saw you idiots went to the amusement park, I decided to call the police so the clowns don’t kill you all.” She looks at me and smirks. “Is it true that you killed a clown with a bonsai tree?”
“Not us,” I reply. “He was already dead when we arrived and his friends disappeared.”
“At least we found the money in a van,” Copper Top says. “Although still, you could be their accomplice.”
“There’s a whole pub of bonsai tree fanatics that saw them sitting there when the clown got killed,” Tempest replies. “They have a photo of that blonde one after she ate the Dunwich Horror–”
“She did?” Copper Top’s eyes widen. “I tried to do that in the twelfth grade, but I threw up.”
Tempest doesn’t seem to pay attention to Copper Top’s memories. “Also, some of those guys remember seeing clowns in the car park.”
Copper Top groans. “Just great. I’ll spend the rest of the night interrogating some crazy gardeners.”
“Artists,” I reply. “The best of them, at least.”
Copper Top shakes her head. “This is the worst thing since someone was found dead in the toilet with a knife in their chest during the Dunwich Annual Checkers Festival last year.”
“Does that happen often?” I ask.
“Once a year.” Copper Top rolls her eyes. “That’s what ‘annual’ means.”
“I meant murders.”
“Only when enough weirdos gather in one place.” Copper Top sighs and looks at me and Tempest. “Please tell me none of you play checkers.”
Well, who am I to lie to the authorities. “I do, sometimes.”
“If you come to my town again, I’m not responsible for my actions.” Copper Top looks at Tempest. “On a side note, who are you? Her mother?”
Huh. I wonder if that’d be better or worse than my current mother. I mean, my mother doesn’t have all those war stories to tell, but at least she took me to Doctor Sour Note after I briefly became interested in toasters. Tempest looks cool, but I guess she’d take me fishing or something.
Or maybe I’m talking about my dad now. He apparently didn’t get the memo that I’m not his son and he took me on a fishing trip once. I’m not sure what was worse: the fact that I nearly drowned in the lake near Camp Everfree or that I got rescued by Timber Spruce, who then made a picture of me out of macaroni.
Too bad he couldn’t remember me later, when we went there on a school trip. Though given that it was about the time when his sister turned into a tentacle demon I can’t exactly blame him.
“Hey, are you gonna stay here?” Tempest asks. “We’re leaving.”
I snap out of the memories of Timber Spruce and we walk out of the interrogation room. Somehow, Muffins is still chatting with some other policewoman in the corridor, but at least it looks like Roseluck got a new pair of pants.
I’m pretty sure the previous one got definitely ruined when we got arrested.
“So, it was the middle of the Festivus party,” Muffins says to the policewoman. “And he was like, ‘I love you too, I just–’ and I was like ‘Is it because I’m not a horse?’”
“Hoo, boy.” The policewoman shakes her head.
“That’s what Sandalwood’s mother said.” Muffins smirks.
“What are you even talking about?” I ask.
Muffins points at the policewoman. “She told me to tell her everything right from the start, but she wasn’t all that interested in Iceland.”
Well, I guess that’s one way to stall the interrogation. Soon, we’re joined by Lily and Daisy. The two policemen who talked with Daisy seem a bit shaken; I guess she told them some amusing story about goats. On the other hand, Lily has the same expression as every arrested celebrity girl in the tabloids – mostly anger, with almost no regret.
“Watch out for this one,” the policeman says to Tempest, pointing at Lily. “She’s our HR specialist.”
“How so?” Tempest asks.
“She said she’ll get us all fired.” The policeman shrugs. “We get those every weekend.”
“Well, my van is now a piece of evidence and this expensive plant pot is now a murder weapon, apparently.” Lily sighs and turns to me. “At least they’ll let us take The Great Roberto. There are no fingerprints on him.”
“Well, that’s great,” I reply.
“Maybe for you, but what about the van?” Lily asks. “My mom is gonna kill me. And we didn’t even get the one with the money, because that’s even more evidence.”
“You should be happy you didn’t get killed,” Tempest replies, walking down the corridor and towards the door. We follow her mostly because the alternative is spending the rest of the night in a rather uncomfortable cell.
“Still, we need to get back home, somehow,” Daisy says. “And then explain what happened to the van to Lily’s parents.”
“Or we can stay here and find the clowns ourselves,” Lily replies. “I’d show him for–” She’s interrupted rather abruptly when Tempest smacks her in the back of the head. It was probably meant to be a gentle pat, but Lily nearly fell down the stairs.
“Pashla na khui, svoloch!” Tempest exclaims. “If you really have a death wish, there are a lot of places where they need volunteers to clear the minefields. At least you’d be useful for once.”
Lily rubs the back of her head. “What did you call me?”
“I know, but it’s because I play too many video games.” Muffins smiles sheepishly.
Me too, to be honest. I once learned what some Russian kid told me and yelled it to another Russian kid. The moment of stunned silence among the members of my clan was totally worth it.
“Your friends will explain this to you,” Tempest says. “Now, go back to the hotel. It’s enough of strange stuff going around you for one night.”
“When will I get my van back?” Lily asks.
Tempest sighs. “When you do, I’ll personally come and shove it up your ass. For now, I can pay for a cab for you, just so you don’t wander around here.”
“Yeah, we can go with that.” Muffins drags Lily away from Tempest, probably preventing murder or at least grievous bodily harm.
Eventually, we do get back to the hotel by a cab, though Lily is still salty and Muffins’ idea to cheer her up by playing pool doesn’t make her any happier. In fact, no one’s really into playing pool.
Daisy puts it best. “It’s 2 AM, we found a dead clown, we got arrested, and Roseluck–”
“Don’t mention it,” Roseluck mutters through gritted teeth.
“Okay.” Muffins turns to me. “What about you?”
“I can’t play pool.” I reply. “Also, what Daisy said. I’d rather go to sleep, then we need to get The Great Roberto a new pot because the one we got from the police sucks, there’s still the second day of the fair, and then we have to get back home, somehow.”
“I guess we’ll get the van back soon,” Muffins says. “The clowns’ own van is more interesting, with more fingerprints and stuff.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “But for now, I’d rather go to sleep.”
At least I’m so tired that I fall asleep before I get to see Muffins in her bathrobe again. Now that’d make my dreams even more complicated.
And boy, are they complicated… In this particular dream, I get lured into a sewer by a clown, because if there’s someone completely blind to horror tropes, then it’s me. At least the sewer is not so bad, nothing really floats and they have quite a lot of bonsai trees, balloons, and quite a lot of money. I could live here, really. I mean, the clowns are a bit scary, but then my conscience shows up and says that everything is fine. Who am I to disagree?
However, before I get to travel the world and the seven seas, Tempest shows up. The clowns try to smash a flower pot on her head, but she’s having none of it. Instead, she pulls out an AK-47 out of nowhere, yells something angry in Russians and shoots all the clowns.
“I always water my bonsai tree with clown blood in the morning,” she says.
“I need to try this,” I reply, turning in my bed and opening my eyes. Unsurprisingly, the first person I see is Muffins. “Would you kindly put some clothes on?” I ask.
“Why?” She shrugs. “It’s night, no one can see me. Also, do you know that you’re talking in your sleep? It wasn’t that bad until you mentioned watering bonsai trees with clown blood.”
“Long story,” I reply, smiling sheepishly and trying to look her in the eyes rather than, uhh… elsewhere. “Though I bet you also have strange dreams after this whole clown thing.”
“Yeah, I had a dream that Pinkie Pie was chasing me with a fire axe because I liked Applejack’s apple pie better.” Muffins shrugs. “But that’s par for the course.”
“Hey, I like apple pie too,” I say. “And now I wonder what’d happen if Pinkie made apple pie. Would it be better than Applejack’s or not?”
“Now that’s dangerously close to heresy,” Muffins replies. “Nobody makes a better apple pie than Applejack, not even Pinkie Pie. Now, if you need a birthday cake, you go to Pinkie Pie. If you need a lavish dinner for thirty people, you can borrow Flash from me.”
Thirty people? I’m not sure I know that many people in real life.
“I mean, for our last date he prepared some Cambodian pork with ginger and chili and it was great. You need to come for dinner one day.” She lies down on her bed. “Damn, now I’m hungry. Do you think this hotel has any fridge we can raid? Or at least a bar?”
A dinner with Muffins and Flash? And what would I do there? Also, I hope she doesn’t go fridge raiding dressed like this – or rather undressed, though there’s one good thing about it. None of the witnesses would remember that I was with her. And that’s without the memory stone.
“I have no idea,” I reply. “For now, I’d rather go back to sleep.”
“Guess I’ll have to wait till breakfast, then.” Muffins wraps herself in the blanket and soon falls asleep.
I have nothing else to do but to follow her steps.
The second day of the fair kinda sucks.
I mean, we had to get there by a taxi and this time we had to pay for this. Which wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for Lily’s endless whining. Also, the new pot for The Great Roberto cost a small fortune and I still can’t get used to it. The old one was just better.
Sure, the old one probably has a clown's brain on it, but still, I liked that pot. It really tied the whole look together. Or maybe I just think so because I’m tired. I only caught a few hours of sleep and let’s say that the dream about Tempest and the clowns wasn’t the last thing my subconsciousness had to offer.
So here I am, sleepy and annoyed. At least Roseluck looks just as miserable as me, though it’s not much of a consolation. Meanwhile, Daisy takes over talking to the people interested in watching The Great Roberto. She’s actually surprisingly good at it, although she sometimes goes off on really weird tangents.
“Speaking of French goats, do you know that Valençay cheese was originally pyramid-shaped, but when Napoleon came back from his campaign in Egypt and stopped at the Valençay castle, the shape brought back bad memories of Egypt, so he cut off the top with his sword,” Daisy says. “Although once he actually tasted the cheese, he apparently loved it. Myself, I prefer rocamadour. When I’ve been to France–”
“All that cheese talk is making me hungry,” Muffins whispers to me. “But then, I’m still trying to process how she went from bonsai trees to goats and then to cheese.”
“I don’t think those guys know either,” I reply, pointing at the people who are standing in front of Daisy. “Also, I don’t think they have any obscure French cheese anywhere here.”
“I’d rather eat a roasted kid,” Muffins says.
I roll my eyes. “Are we going back to the cannibalism talk?”
“No, a baby goat is called a kid.” Muffins smirks. “If you listened to Daisy about twenty minutes ago, you’d know that.”
“Still, this doesn’t sound tasty,” I say. “Also, I’m not sure how’d Daisy take that.”
“Okay, I know.” Muffins shrugs. “Indigo told me about that Indian restaurant in town and apparently they have goat vindaloo. I’m more into chicken curry, but as an experiment…”
“I’m not sure if I’m into such experiments,” I reply, getting up from my seat. “And now excuse me, I have to go to the toilet.”
I walk through the crowd. There’s probably a long line to the toilets because life hates me in general. Well, it’s all a matter of statistics – a lot of people, a venue with just a few stalls, and everyone had a few drinks in the pub yesterday… Yeah, it’s probably gonna be occupied.
I’m kinda taking my time, looking at other people’s bonsai trees on my way. I greet a few people that I know either from real life or online forums, I share a few tips with them, pass by a group of clowns–
Wait, what? I turn back, but the clowns are no longer there. Normally, I’d shrug and go away, but since yesterday I’m a bit scared of clowns. I look around to see if Tempest is somewhere there, but I can’t see her.
Instead, I see some guy. He’s not dressed as a clown, but if he was, he’d totally look like one of those guys from yesterday. I mean, so would pretty much half of the people in this place, but this particular dude is also looking at me. Very suspicious.
I turn around and go towards the toilets. Too bad I don’t have pepper spray or something like this. Or maybe a taser. I’d get a gun, but Roseluck is scared of me already; not to mention that I never actually shot one, so I’d most likely shoot myself or worse, someone completely innocent.
The toilets are surprisingly empty; I think only one stall is taken. I take another one and when I get out, there’s only that one woman in there, washing her hands. I stand next to her to wash mine. She has rather strong make-up for some reason and she’s washing her hands way too long. Or maybe I’m just paranoid?
She turns to me. “Excuse me,” she says. “Do you have Prince Albert in a can?”
Damn, I read too much horror stories. Is she a clown too? Are there even female clowns? There probably are – after all, how are baby clowns born?
Screw it, I’m gonna punch her first and ask questions later. At worst, I’m gonna have to explain to Copper Top why I kicked some innocent bonsai fan’s ass.
I turn towards her and throw her my best right hook at her. Ouch! I think I broke something in my hand, but at least I gave her a bloody nose. Time to run, I guess. She tackles me, slamming me against a stall door. Do I have to punch her again? Instead of trying to get up, I just kick her in the stomach, pushing her away. She hits the sink with her back, groaning. Too bad she didn’t break the mirror with her head. I get up from the floor, but at the same moment I get hit in the head from behind.
Well, I guess something like this happened, because it feels like a ton of bricks fell on my head. After that, there’s only stars.
When I wake up, I find myself in the back of some van. Great, another one. How many vans do those guys have?
I open my eyes and find out that I’m not alone. Roseluck is here too, her hands tied with duct tape. I try to move, only to find out that I’m similarly tied.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I got knocked out by a woman with a broken nose in the toilet,” Roseluck replies.
“Don’t tell me that you–”
“Nah, I got attacked after I was done,” Roseluck shrugs. “What do you think they’ll do to us?”
“Hope they don’t kill us with a potted plant,” I reply. “Can you somehow untie yourself?”
Roseluck struggles against her bindings for a while, but the only thing she succeeds at rolling on the floor of the van and banging her head against some toolbox or something like that. Wait, a toolbox? I crawl to it, but with my hands tied behind my back, it’s really hard to open it.
“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?” Roseluck rolls her eyes and flails her legs, trying to free herself. “And now imagine Lily trying to save us.”
Yeah, this kind of worries me. I open my mouth to tell her that, but suddenly I hear some voices outside. Well, not exactly voices. Someone’s groaning in pain; the van shakes when they hit its wall and, judging by the sounds, drop to the ground.
I hear another voice, belonging to a woman. “Wait, are you telling me that a thin, cross-eyed teenager handed your ass to you?”
“You don’t look that well either,” the man replies, panting heavily.
“Yes, but I at least brought that little hobo here!” the woman exclaims. Wait, little hobo? How rude! “Where’s that blondie?”
“She kicked me in the balls and broke the stall door with my head, what do you think?” The man groans. “I woke up ten minutes later with my head in the toilet bowl! A few inches closer to the water and I would’ve drowned!”
A third voice joins the conversation. It’s a man too, but his voice is more high-pitched. “At least we wouldn’t have to listen to your whining. Also, while you two were getting beaten by schoolgirls, I brought here this weirdo who was talking about goats. Open the van.”
I smell my chance and crawl closer to the van door. When the lock clicks, I bend my knees, positioning my legs towards the door. As soon as it opens, I let out a scream and kick the first person who shows up.
Turns out, it’s the third guy. The soles of my shoes hit him right in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to fall on his ass. Daisy, tied just like me and Roseluck, falls with him, causing the other two to laugh at his misery.
I take a look at them. The woman has traces of blood on her face and t-shirt after fighting me and the bigger guy still has wet hair, as well as a black eye and torn clothes. He’s also limping slightly. Muffins really needs to teach me how to defend myself like that. Meanwhile, the guy who brought Daisy here is trying to get up while muttering something extremely rude about my family.
Eventually, he manages to get his bearings and get up. He looks at me and I immediately start to regret ever being born, but after a while he turns to his sidekicks. “You didn’t even gag them?” he asks.
“Well, it’s not like someone’s gonna hear them.” The other man shrugs.
Indeed. We’re in the middle of some creepy forest. Wonder if they have shovels. If they do, then I’ll be digging my own grave for at least a few hours, hoping that someone rescues me before then. Well, either that or someone will get mad and dig it for me instead.
On a second thought, untying us and giving us shovels doesn’t sound like the smartest of plans. Like, Muffins apparently beat one of those guys up and even I managed to land a few hits on this woman. With a shovel, I can go wild. That is, until I inevitably hit myself in the face.
Eventually, we end up gagged with more duct tape and put back in the van, along with Daisy. Just great. I never knew Dunwich offers so many attractions to the visitors. I’ve been here for two days and I witnessed a bank robbery, found a dead body in a creepy amusement park, and now I got kidnapped. Canterlot City pales in comparison.
Well, on a second thought, not really. I mean, so far no one turned into a demon or at least a big, dragon-like thing with a lot of teeth. There was no tearing holes in the very fabric of reality, and no mall has been plagued by a ten-foot tall diva with an inferiority complex. The camp owners didn’t sprout tentacles and local social media thots didn’t go nuts and had to be put back in place with a healthy dose of friendship lasers. So all in all, two out of ten, will come again if the prices are low enough.
Wait. Why didn’t I get a cool demon form? Life is really not fair. I’d ask Daisy or Roseluck about that, but the problem is, I’m gagged and they’re gagged. So, neither the question nor the answer would be possible.
Suddenly, the van door closes and we’re left in the dark. At least I’m not afraid of it, but judging by the sudden whimper on my left, Roseluck is.
Why, of all the people, I had to get kidnapped with her?
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So... 90% of the dialog in this fic? :D
Oh, what a cliffhanger! I do hope they'll all be okay!
What do you mean can't Wally? Do you lack coordination or has the state forbbiden you to do it?
Powerful phrase. Familiar phrase?
I'm not sure I do either
Are you assuming Wallflower smokes?
You see Wally, you don't punch a nose with your fist, you need to hit them with the lower part of your open palm in an upwards motion so your forearm absorbs all the impact.
She defeated the Dunwitch Horror, you guys are just snacks in comparison
Oh no, they got Scootaloo!
Great... now what was the second step?
images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/36d85e5d-de29-479c-bfc4-ca7e6be9a733/dcwla9p-7fe6531f-b2b6-4813-9791-7c19a87eab6f.png/v1/fill/w_1192,h_670,q_70,strp/demon_wallflower_blush_by_legendary_spider_dcwla9p-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3siaGVpZ2h0IjoiPD0zODQwIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvMzZkODVlNWQtZGUyOS00NzljLWJmYzQtY2E3ZTZiZTlhNzMzXC9kY3dsYTlwLTdmZTY1MzFmLWIyYjYtNDgxMy05NzkxLTdjMTlhODdlYWI2Zi5wbmciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9NjgzMCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.u_24hPBf7J8Qkz_p13yPM0LFtf3H6F4KUYG0WkOgXJ8
I'm surprised this continued after the confusion got cleared. Will Tempest come save them with an AK? Will the clows have a tank Wallflower can fight against? I can't wait for the next chapter.
10671233
"What do you mean can't Wally? Do you lack coordination or has the state forbbiden you to do it?"
I imagine Wallflower is forbidding Wallflower from doing it. Coordinated or not, if you've never played before and have never learned the rules and techniques, some practice is required before you graduate from "embarrassingly bad."
This doesn't sound right.
"Doctor Sour Note"? Sour Sweet's parent in this take on EqG?
Eh, he does that with every pretty girl he meets. It's like Princess Celestia and stained-glass windows, only on a tighter budget.
With Flash, it's a valid question.
The question isn't "Why didn't Wallflower get a demon form?" It's "Does anyone remember Wallflower in her demon form?"
Okay, it's a stretch, but I like the idea of her becoming some unspeakable, Lethean horror that the mind refuses to record.
In any case, the cross-eyed cavalry is likely on the way, but Best Human does have to track down the clowns. We'll see where this goes from here. And who's looking after The Great Roberto in all of this?
10671229
i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/001/650/747/aaf.png
(although I must say it's the first time I researched cheese for a fic).
10671233
Probably a bit of both (she managed to injure someone with a ball).
If she does, no one remembers about it.
She needs to work on her combat skills (guns tend to run out of ammo, after all).
Die fighting and go to Valhalla, I guess.
Also, that's some nice demon form. Shame no one remembers encountering it.
10671395
How so?
10671996
Mother, to be exact. Though funnily enough, her parents were not named in It's the End of the World as We Know It, even though her siblings, uncle, and at least one cousin were mentioned by name.
I just imagined Timber having a whole basement of them. Unless he gave it to Wallflower, then she probably keeps it on some kind of "I spoke totally normally with someone" shrine.
Even Wallflower doesn't remember that form. It had way too many dimensions to comprehend.
10672720
Hard to describe, but the "I had to get" doesn't flow right?
It feels like a stutter when you read it out loud.
Edit: wow, managed to reply to myself.