Uncle Giggles

Uncle Giggles

"I take it you're not religious?"

"It's a little difficult to be religious when certain people aren't being smited by bolts of lightnining."

A silence passed, creating a break in the conversation.

"I hate you, you know that?"

"I love you too."

One of the people turned on a flashlight, a beam cutting through the thick darkness like an exacto blade. The flashlight turned, lighting up the face of a man that looked to be in his mid-twenties.

"Stop that he growled, snatching the flashlight and shining it back at the other person. She looked to be a bit younger than him, probably in her late teens, twenty at most. She glared at him and then flipped him the finger. The two fell silent again, the flashlight clicking off.

Finally, the girl spoke, "Do you think we lost him?"

The guy snorted. "With your loud voice? Doubt it."

"You think he knows where we are?"

"Why do you think I was praying?"

"Hell if I know. Not religious, remember?"

They were cut off as they heard a loud slamming noise followed by a man shrieking, "No... no... Please, God! No!" A high-pitched scream ended the pleas like a period, thoroughly disturbing the hiding people.

"...Wasn't that Aaron?" The guy inquired, shifting nervously.

The girl paused, then made a noise that sounded like a snarl. "Son of a bitch... that was!"

"...You can avenge his death later. Right now we need to think of a way to escape--"

"That's not what's pissing me off!"

"Eh?" The guy was baffled. "Then why are you angry?"

"Aaron had the fucking car keys! I am not planning on trying to escape on foot!"

"...You're a real bitch, Addy."

"Think about it. Right now we're hiding in a closet. There is some crazy asshole in a clown costume out there that didn't just kill Aaron, but killed Cassie and Greg on the campgrounds. Even if we do escape from this house, do you think we'll stand a chance running around in a forest trying to find a gas station or something?"

"I know, but Christ, he just killed Aaron."

"Well, then maybe he should've hid in the closet with us--"

"Who's there?" A high-pitched, squeaky voice tore through the air. The two quit bickering; the killer had found them.

"Shit," The guy whispered, peeking through the keyhole, "I hope he doesn't check here."

"Of course. No one ever hides in closets after all," Addy remarked sarcastically.

"Hiding here was your idea!"

"Well, you said hiding in the basement was a bad idea, so this is the only other place I can think of."

"...I hate you."

"I know you do, pretty boy."

The clown's voice broke through the air again, this time in sync with a whistling noise. "If I find you I'll kill you!" It sing-songed, then belted out an incredibly effeminate laugh.

The guy paused, then muttered, "I can't believe this guy's been killing people."

"I can't believe this guy is ruining our camping trip. I mean, God, this is even worse than the guy in the chicken suit.

"You mean the guy that was smuggling diamonds across the border and didn't want to get caught, so he dressed up as a zombie chicken to scare people off?" That was when a proud tone entered the guy's voice. "And he would have gotten away with it too if it wasn't for us meddling kids!"

"What the fuck?" Addy shouted, forgetting the fact that they were hiding from an insane, homicidal clown. "No... Jake. No. I'm talking about the guy that kidnapped Cassie."

"Oh... OH. Him... wow," Jake croaked. "I'd forgotten about him. Wasn't he arrested for--?"

"I might be blind!" The clown cried, thes squeakiness of his voice reaching new levels. "But when I find you, I swear I'll kill you!"

"...Okay," Jake began, "I have a really good question now."

"Yes?"

"He's blind?"

"That's what he said. Don't tell me you're deaf."

"That's not what I meant," Jake snapped, exasperated. Taking a deep breath, he tried to make his point, "But he killed Aaron, Cassie, and... er..."

"Greg."

"Yes! Greg. He killed them, right?"

"Obviously. I don't know about you, but I don't think we have to worry about more than one killer clown."

"But he's blind."

"I don't think being blind means you can't be a killer... unless... you prejudiced son of a bitch."

"Eh?"

"How can you discriminate against the blind? They're people too," Addy hissed vehemently.

"Not what I meant!" Jake cried.

"Then what the hell did you mean?"

"It's okay, kiddies!" The clown chirped in an incredibly manic voice. "Uncle Giggle might not be able to see you, but he can hear you!" And then "Uncle Giggles'" voice went down in pitch, sounding like someone who's smoked one too many cigarettes. "And I can smell you. Mmm... you smell so good."

"...Okay," Jake said, "we should really try getting out of here."

"Good. We'll hide in the basement."

"Why hide? Why not make a run for it?"

"Because apparently Uncle Giggles can smell us," Addy remarked drily.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"The basement reeks. I doubt he'll be able to smell us down there."

"Oooh... clever. Just know that if he kills me because of your plan, I'm haunting your ass."

The scene after that was a blur. It consisted of Jake and Addy running like starving children from third world countries trying to getting the last bagel at the buffet, Uncle Giggles the homicidal clown walking around the bathroom while waving around a lead pipe, and Aaron doing what dead bodies do best.

Jake slammed the basement door behind Addy and himself, both of them gasping for breath. Addy turned on their trusty flashlight, looking around at the mess that was the basement.

"Uh... Jake?"

"What is it?" Jake asked. Addy, unable to find words to describe the horror that lay before them, merely pointed. Dried blood and dead bodies were everywhere. The occasional beach balls only thrived as awkward decorations for such a blood bath.

"Uncle Giggles found you!" The clown squealed, swinging open the door. Addy screamed, falling backwards and tumbling into the pile of dead bodies. Jake clenched his fists, ready to pummel the life out of the clown's form. "Now we can play!"

"Why are you doing this?" Jake demanded, angry. "In the eyes of God, this is a sin."

"Uncle Giggles just wants to play with his newest friends... um... er... Johnny and Susie!" Apparently Uncle Giggles was fond of assigning people names.

"Oh God..." Addy coughed, "There's a pile of dead babies down here."

Jake glared at Uncle Giggles. "You take the lives of mere infants?"

Uncle Giggles frowned, "I only want to play. And Uncle Giggles loves babies!"

"You sick motherfucker!" Jake swung at Uncle Giggles, but since he never had good aim, he missed... horribly.

"Oooooh!" Uncle Giggles squealed like a cheerleader loaded on Red Bulls, "Uncle Giggles likes this game! Let's play!" And thus he swung at Jake with his lead pipe, creating a loud cracking noise as Jake's head snapped to the side. He didn't even make a noise as he tumbled down the stairs into the field of corpses.

"Jake..." Addy whispered in disbelief. "Jake! Oh God! Don't tell me you're dead!" She waded through the pile of dead babies, trying to get to Jake, but was halted by Uncle Giggles.

"Silly Susie!" He stated. "Do you know the difference between a washing machine and a pile of dead babies?"

Silence.

"I don't have a washing machine in my basement." That was the last thing Addy heard.

Later on Uncle Giggles sat in front of the collection of dead bodies, thinking about whatever it is homicidal clowns think about. His cat, Mister Chuckles, eventually joined him, lying in his lap and purring contently.

"I don't get it, Mister Chuckles. Uncle Giggles wants lots of friends, but his friends never talk to him. Uncle Giggles is sad."

"Meow."

"Oh! Meow! I get it now! Thank you, Mister Chuckles! Uncle Giggles will try harder to make friends from now on!"