Dominic Leah Conda

North Carolina 24/7 Self-Storage

They were eating subs in front of the TV in the main office. It was four in the morning and ninety-degrees outside. Lightning started to flash on the horizon.

“You gonna finish that?” asked Bob.

“Nah, take it,” said Darren.

“Guess what I got?” grinned Bob as he held up a DVD.

“No fucking way.”

“Two bombshell sisters cross the great USA in hopes of acting careers in Hollywood. Their huge, D-cup sized tits and full lips will set your body ab . . . will set your body ab-laze.

Watch them play together in the back seat, as they travel the country, one hitch-hiker at a time. . . What ya say?”

“I say we’re in for one hell of a ride.”

“Pussy, pussy, pussy.”

They put the DVD in but as Darren unbuckled his pants, he turned to look through the massive panel window.

“The fuck was that?” he said.

“What?”

“A clown just walked by.”

“What?”

“A clown just fucking walked by. One of those messed up ones, holding fucking balloons.”

They both looked out the window and Bob said, “Do we call the cops?”

Darren rolled the idea around in his head and said, “No. No, we should fuck back with him. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Like those other assholes from the conservation park the other day.”

“My brother told me about that.”

“No, we should fuck this mother-fucker right up. Go get Mike’s lucky bat.”

“You get so much as a slut’s hair on that and Mike will bust you right through this goddamn window. His dead dad gave him that.”

“It don’t make a difference. I’m gonna sit here and watch the window and you’re gonna go and get the bat.”

Bob went into the backroom and took down the bat from its mantle. He hesitated with it in his hands because he knew how Mike felt about it and how Mike got when he was angry.

In the main room, they saw the killer clown again, totally in black and white, even its balloons. He gave out a wild laugh that they heard faintly through the glass. Bob and Darren looked at each other and then back at the killer clown as he disappeared behind another unit.

“You stay here,” said Darren. “I’m gonna go out the back and after five minutes you come out and start yellin’ that you called the cops.”

“Call the cops now. You can fuck with him while they get here.”

“No, we ain’t doing that. I want to bash this mother-fucker’s lights in and I can’t do that with the cops comin’.”

“Mike will fucking destroy you when he finds out you did it with his lucky bat.”

“Fuck Mike. Mike won’t do anything except thank me on TV for beating the shit out of this guy. This is what these fuckers do. This is what they do all the time. They sit in their day jobs like how you and I do at night, only they don’t jack off to chicks. They jack off to little kids and then they go out dressed like freaks and fuck with little kids. I’m gonna teach this freak a lesson and then the other freaks will know what’s comin’ to ‘em.”

“Fuck, man, just be quick. He comes ‘round one more time with those fucking balloons, I’m callin’.”

Darren went out the back and Bob watched Darren’s reflection go around the corner. He waited five minutes and then went out to stand in front of the office.

“We see you and we’ve called cops! The cops are on their way!” yelled Bob but nothing happened. “The cops have been called and they’re on their way!”

Then a new killer clown, one dressed in all colours, with a hideous grinning face, silently walked past Bob on his right before disappearing behind another unit.

Bob whipped around but there was no one else. Then Darren suddenly screamed and Bob heard a chainsaw come to life. Darren kept at it in high-pitched agony for some time and then stopped. Bob ran over to the more shadowed storage units on his left when he heard another wild but different laugh.

Bob’s mind visibly racing to figure out its next move, he decided to hop the barbed-wire fence and run straight through the open field to the highway. While in-progress though, he noticed his massive gut wouldn’t quite let him do it before his sleeve tore and his feet gave way, making him dangle like a fish.

Then he heard soft footsteps on the gravel.

“Who the fuck is that?” he whispered. “Leave me alone you bastard!”

“The fuck you doing up there, Bob?” said Mike.

“Mike! Oh Jesus, thank God! There are fucking killer clowns runnin’ ‘round the place tonight. I think they fucking did Darren in.”

“What?” Mike whispered.

“I think they –- uh God –- used a chainsaw to hack him to pieces!”

“Jesus Christ . . . and you’re here hopping the fence?”

“We gotta get outta here. I say we make a break for the interstate and hitchhike. We can call the cops with a driver’s cell.”

“I dunno. Doesn’t look like you can make it over the fence. Besides, it’s quiet now, can’t you tell?”

Bob, now listening again, became very afraid.

“Here. Let’s get you down first. Then, tell you what, we’ll sneak ‘round to the front and bolt from there.”

“Sure, yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“If we can, we’ll get back into the office and call from there.”

“Yeah, you can let us in.”

“Probably our safest bet.”

“What about Darren?”

“What about Darren? Thought you said he was dead.”

Bob nodded and together they crept back to the front of the property. Mike looked around the corner and then signalled to Bob to push forward. Mike kept looking around slowly and calmly while Bob’s eyes darted in all directions, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. When they re-entered the main office, Bob remembered the bat.

“I didn’t touch the bat.”

Mike slowly turned around to look at him.

“I didn’t wanna do it. Darren kept telling me to get it and I kept telling him to leave it the fuck alone.”

“It’s fine, Bob. Wait here while I make the call.” Then walking into the backroom, Mike said, “Don’t forget to lock the door,” and tossed to Bob the keys.

Bob violently nodded and hurried to locked the main office door before waiting for Mike in front of the massive panel window. As he surveyed the rows of storage units, he looked over to his right and figured that’s where Darren’s body was now lying in hacked up pieces. Then it thundered directly overheard even though there was still no sign of rain.

“It’s done. Now we wait.”

Bob jumped as Mike walked back over to join him.

After a while, Bob said, “What ya think they wanted tonight?”

Mike didn’t respond right away but eventually said, “They say those guys just like to fuck around. . . I guess they figured you two were easy targets since there’s no one else on this side of town at night.”

“Sure there is. The lubricant factory down the road never stops for nothin’.”

“That they don’t, and they have cameras just like we do — so I guess I don’t know . . . Maybe they fucked with the guys down the street first.”

“We wouldda heard that.”

“Maybe that’s where they went now.”

Frightened again, Bob said “Do you think they’ll come back?”

“Doesn’t matter now. The cops are coming.”

“Right. Fuck what a night. I was just hoping to jack off and eat my supper.”

“Oh yeah, which DVD?”

Bob pointed to the one on the desk.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe you found that. Vintage.”

“Ol’ lucky Davie’s box.”

“The guy on the south end, the one with the —-”

“Cuban cigars, yeah,” and they laughed.

“Why you would ever mouth fuck one of those things, I dunno.”

“It’s true, so true,” and then they were quiet again.

Bob went back to looking out the window and waiting for the ring that would tell them the cops were there. His mood changed and secretly he started hoping that the killer clowns would show up again.

“Where ya think they came up with this shit?”

“The clowns or the DVD?”

“Those freaks.”

“Probably in their dreams, where they wait for little kids.”

“That’s what Darren said,” said Bob surprised.

“Oh yeah? Well I say he probably was right.”

The phone rang and Mike went to answer it. Relief hit Bob and now he felt sorry for Darren. Then he wondered what cops did with leftover bodies like that.

Mike came back and said, “Time to go.”

“Good.”

“You gonna quit now after this?”

“Nah, was like winning the fucking lottery.”

They laughed and Mike said, “Yeah, I fucking guess so.”

Mike stepped out of the main office and held the door for Bob who happily walked down the steps and waited for Mike to lockup at the bottom. As he turned around, he saw killer clowns silently coming at him from the behind the units on all sides. Each one with a different look. Each one with a different weapon.

At first, too stunned to speak, all he eventually managed to say was, “Mike, get back inside.”

Then he ran back up the stairs until halfway when he noticed Mike grinning down at him.

“The cops ain’t comin’, Bobby.”

Bob, now slowly walking backwards, said, “No?”

Mike shrugged, and said, “No. They told me they didn’t think you two pisspots were worth their time. Rightly so. They’re cops, man. They don’t have time running around saving guys too fat to jump fences. They have little kids to worry about.”

As Mike slowly walked down the stairs, he pushed Bob into the centre of a ring. Then with one hand Mike put on his own killer clown mask but kept his other still behind his back. Bob started to whimper and moan.

“Now what did I tell you two fuckers about my touching my lucky bat?” asked Mike and for the briefest of moments Bob had hope.

“Your dead dad gave it you; I remember.”

“That’s right.”

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