Squinkies The Honkening

It wasn't anything particular that tipped me off, no obvious warning signs that the kindly old lady who sat down in the car next to me was about to attempt a knitting needle lobotomy.

It was simply a feeling, an instinct, a squirming in my gut that made me look up just as two gleaming, aluminum needles sped towards my face. I didn't have time to register much more than that before I was grappling with an octogenarian that had the strength of a power lifter and the frothy lipped, wild eyed look of madness typically only seen in schlocky horror movies.

It hadn't happened for a while, they'd stopped coming for me ever since that thing in Philly, and I guess I let my guard down. Now Nana was pushing dull needles into my temple, and there wasn't much I could do to stop her…

The thing puppeting her however, was a different, matter. If only...I could reach…"Gonna have'ta see y...Gah!" So much for a witty rejoinder before blasting this beasty back from whence it came. Memaw had shoved a thumb in my mouth and was trying to fishhook me. Oh well, time to do the thing.

I reached into my coat and grabbed the one thing I knew of that could stop this monster cold. The shiny, silvered device slid out of my jacket's inner pocket and before she knew it, Nana had a face full of metal. I squeezed the black, rubber grip and Nana immediately toppled backward, her cry of anger drowned out by the bicycle horn.

As you might imagine, our little scuffle had drawn some notice, and I wasn’t about to try explaining to the fuzz or anyone on the train why gramgram had wigged out and tried to punch my ticket. So I did the only thing I could in that moment, honked my little red nose, leapt into the air to clap my feet together, and made for the exit.

I was hoping the display would confuse anyone looking to ask questions long enough for me to get away, and for the most part it did. I was two cars down, one away from the end by the time anyone tried to stop me. Just my luck, I’d run into not one, but two Lookie loos on the same train. This was just not my day.

This one had managed to get its grubby little hands…well, tentacles really…well, more like feelers, but I digress. However you’d describe its appendages, it had them firmly wrapped around the head of a fellow who looked like he’d just finished lifting…like, the whole gym. The word swole came to, and then immediately exited my mind, along with most other conscious thoughts as he swung a fist the size of a christmas ham at my head. The resulting collision probably would have done truly terrible things to a normal human anatomy, as evidenced by the way my entire body snapped into a rigid posture, neck stretching back along with his fist.

I dropped, body stiff with something akin to rigor mortis, and began counting the stars that now swirled in a dizzying, drunk pirouette around my head. One…two…Th…I shook the stars away just in time to see The Bigness reaching down to grab me. We couldn’t have that, As soon as his hands touched my frilly, parti-colored collar, I hit him with one of the classics. The flower in my lapel isn’t just for looks after all. An almost comical stream of water jetted out, launching the Man Mountain and guest into the ceiling of the train car with a satisfying *THUNK*!

As he descended towards me, I rolled backwards, getting the ground beneath my bright red, size 24s once again. In the same motion, I readied the bike horn and with a squeeze, released a honk that drove the Lookie Loos crazy. The entity fled Man Mountain with a furious flailing of…whatever those things are, and zipped through the wall of the train as though it weren’t there.

With my second altercation of the evening out of the way, was just a few funny walks away, and after all that, I didn’t need to pretend to walk funny. With a jaunty limp, I made my way to the end of the last car and, after bowing to my mostly confused audience, gave my nose a honk and hit the emergency exit release. With a flourish I freed my umbrella from its strap in my much patched long coat and held it aloft, letting the wind generated by the speed of the train pull it open and, after a long moment, pull me out of the car and into the relative (and i do mean relative) safety of the subway tunnel.

Just another day I thought to myself as I drifted down the tunnel like an errant piece of dandelion fuzz on the wind. Just another day in the life of the Unluckiest Clown to ever don the nose. I’d done it though, put on this big, stupid red honker, and now I had to live with the consequences…”Squinkes, how do you get yourself in these situations?” I mused before touching down in the gravel beside the tracks with a crunch.

I suppose we haven’t been properly introduced yet by the by. I’m Squinkes the Clown, and I bear the solemn, heavy burden of keeping the world at large safe from the likes of the Lookie Loos. You may not know it, but there is a world just to the right(and a little south) of our own, a terrible place from which terrible things come. You ever wondered why you always seem the same buskers in the same subways? Or why is the Living Statue out there every Weekend at the beach doing their act? Well, let me tell you, they’re doing a lot more than just performing for your entertainment. They’re providing a service that the world at large can’t even conceive of, and they’re doing it all for your pocket change.