“Hmm.”

“What is it, sir?”

“Curious, isn’t it?”

“How many licks it takes to get to the center of the Tootsie Pop?”

“I keep thinking they’ll ask someone besides that fool, Mister Owl! He takes three licks and then just bites it! That’s not an accurate way to measure licks at all! There’s no conversion rate on bites to licks!”

“Um… Mister Principle? I think Mister Musk isn’t concerned with commercials about candy from the 1960s.”

“He isn’t?”

…

“I mean, of course he isn’t! He’s a busy man! He obviously doesn’t wonder, wonder, wonder what’s in a Wonder Ball.”

“Right, sir?”

“Both of you stop talking.”

…

“What I find curious.”

“Is that my… partners… in the XWF ownership group…”

“Appear to be gathering… resources…”

“Raising armies of sorts…”

“Zuckerberg has been spending quite a bit of time in his little Metaverse…”

“And that snake Bezos is getting all chummy with that… Yelena Gorgo individual.”

“Oh sir, I wouldn’t worry about them! They’re just a hoot!”

“Mister Principle, isn’t Gorgo the one that waterboarded you into a comatose state?”

“…Oh! I was thinking of ‘Yakov Smirnoff’…”

“In that case, I would worry about them! And DO worry about them! And am actively worrying about them as we speak!”

“…Hmm.”

“If you’re concerned about your fellow co-owners seeking champions, perhaps you should recruit a champion of your own, Mister Musk?”

“Nadine, please. Don’t embarrass yourself. Mister Musk is a business genius! He knows exactly what to do to secure his interests, without help from anyone.”

“…Hmm. Perhaps I *shall* recruit a champion of my own.”

“Brilliant idea, sir!”

“…”

“Yes. A champion.”

“And one more loyal than that union king stooge, Kieran King!”

“But whom, sir? Or should I say… whomst?”

“…Mister Principle, you said whomst like it was something smart and implied you had some great idea, but whomst is just… grammatically incorrect.”

“SILENCE!”

“…There is a clear choice! One that pulled off a surprise upset over Kieran.”

“…Oh. Oh! That’s brilliant, sir! Not only has this man defeated Kieran… he’s declared an undying loyalty to you over your fellow trillionaires.”

“Really! How perfect! I was unaware!”

“…How? He’s been… VERY vocal about loving you!”

“Then that settles it. My champion shall be…”

“Micheal Gr-“

“Schadenfreude Clown!”

“…What?”

“The Captain who led Clowns R Us to a shocking upset victory over Kieran’s Kingsguard!”

“…You don’t wan-“

“WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!? GO TO CLOWN CITY! RECRUIT MY CHAMPION!”

“Oooh, Clown City! Shotgun in the limo!”

“Hohoho… you won’t be taking a limo to Clown City…”

***



Elon sips a glass of wi-…wait, nope. He’s injecting a syringe of ketamine in his arm.

A trickle of blood runs down his nose as he watches his underlings blast off beyond the stratosphere.

“The time for fun and games… is over.”

***

CLOWN CITY BALLPARK

“Folks, it’s a great day for Clown Baseball! I’m your clown Play-by-Play man, Play-by-Play Clown. And with me as always is my color commentator, Color Commentator Clown!”

“The sky is blue, the field is green, and Furious Baseball Manager Clown’s face looks Beet Red, Play-By-Play Clown!”

The Scoreboard displays the score between the two teams of Clown ballplayers…

The Valuers of Entertainment have eight runs on the board!

Meanwhile, the Relev Ants are at ZERO.

Scorekeeper Clown politely feather-dusts the Relev Ants’ score ticker… It’s been a while since he flipped anything to denote them successfully scoring.

From the mound, one of the Valuers of Entertainment has a glove in one hand and  itches the inside of his belly button with the other.

The fans chant! “HEY! WE WANT A PITCHER! NOT A BELLY ITCHER!”

…The clown on the mound blushes.

"Oh, I’m so sorry!” Belly-Itcher Clown apologizes profusely before dashing off the mound, being subbed for by Pitcher with Non-Itchy Belly Button Clown.

From the side, Furious Baseball Manager Clown claps his hands (they honk as he claps).

“Alright, c’mon! No batta!”

“No batta!”

“No batter!”

“No… No batter! NO BATTER!”

“There’s… THERE’S NO BATTER! NO BATTER IN THE BOX! STOP TH-”

Pitcher with a Non-Itchy Belly Button Clown throws a pitch right down the middle while the batter’s box is empty!

“STEEEEEERIKE THREE!” Calls Umpire Clown!

“GOD CLOWN DAMMIT!” Furious Baseball Manager Clown throws his hat to the ground with dismay, turning to his batting coach clown… “I TOLD YOU TO PUT WHOEVER WE HAVE THAT CAN GET A HIT!”

Batting Coach Clown checks his clipboard. “Yep, you did and that meant…” Batting Coach Clown flips through his roster… before looking up at FBMC. “None of them!”

“GRAGH!” FBMC then spins on the ump! “HOW COULD HE HAVE THROWN IT IN THE BATTER’S STRIKE ZONE WHEN THERE’S NO BATTER AT THE PLATE! ARE YOU BLIND, UMP?!?”

Umpire Clown looks up and taps around his walking stick around home plate!

“Who said that?!?”

“Another rough inning for the Relev Ants, huh, Color Commentary Clown?”

“Their manager certainly looks BLUE out there! And you’d think the fans of the Relev Ants would be GREEN with disgust at their home team…”

“First off, not fans… but FAN. The Relev Ants have a SINGLE season ticket holder… and, in the team’s defense, he seems to be having a great time!”

“OHOHOHOHOHO!”

Indeed, on one side of the arena is a packed stadium full of clowns going absolutely bonkers for the Valuers of Entertainment…

But on the side of the Relev Ants is a single-clown.

As German as he is delighted by the misfortune on the field.

“Ohhhhhh, isht so emBarasshing! Ze Manager Wantsht Hist Team to Succsheed… And yet shey fail! OHHHHHHH, how degradingly delicioush! How deliciously degrading!”

Furious Baseball Manager Clown looks up at the stand occupied by a single very German clown, his cries of delight louder than the screaming capacity crowd on the other side of the ballpark… He grits his teeth.

“I fucking hate that clown so goddamned much…” He spins back toward his team in the field. “C’MON, YOU CLOWNS! GET THREE OUTS!”

Quick-Trip-to-the-Grocery-Store Clown pulls out his list and rapidly starts nodding as he adds ‘three outs’, under ‘whipped cream’, ‘banana cream pies’, and ‘hilariously small condoms’...

“The Relev Ants have taken the field… Here’s the windup…”

Wind-up Key Clown winds up a key on a giant animatronic pitching monkey… He finishes windup and the robotic monkey PITCHES!

““Fastball down the middle!”

“And SMACK! Contact is made by Expert-at-Hitting-Off-Robot-Monkey-Pitchers Clown! You gotta think a better Manager Clown might have thought of a substitution there…”

“OHOHOHOHOHOHO! How trah-GIC!”

Furious Baseball Manager Clown tears his hat off his head… But he sees the ball in the air!

“POP FLY! POP FLY!”

The second-baseman, a clown with the head of a fly dressed in a sweater vest and loafers suddenly snaps to attention!

“Oh God! I’m a Pop?!? Why am I playing in a baseball game when my hideous fly clown wife is giving birth!” He dashes off! The ball bounces past second!

As the clown batter is rounding first, Left-Fielder Clown scrambles forward! The ball bounces off the ground and he scoops it into his glove as the clown batter is approaching second!

“SHORT STOP!” Furious Baseball Manager Clown CALLS OUT! “SHORT STOP!”

…Left-Fielder Clown shrugs and pulls out a lawnchair and a tanning screen.

“NO! DON’T TAKE A SHORT STOP! THROW IT! BEFORE HE MAKES IT HOME!”

The Clown Batter parks his car, dashes up to his front door and pecks his clown wife on the cheek.

“SAFE!” Calls the Umpire from their Dinner Table.

“And the Relev Ants allow ANOTHER inside the park home run!”

“OHOHOHOHOHOHO!” Giggles Schadenfreude Clown! “Ze Manager meant to shrow ze ball to ze clown PLAYING schort schtop, but ze clown playzer mishtunterschtood and took a short break! How macabre! How AW-FÜHL! Ohohohohoho!” Schadenfreude Clown fans himself with a floral hand fan!

“YOU SON OF A CLOWN BITCH!” Furious Baseball Manager Clown throws his hat on the ground again, before pointing at the stands! “Did you bring a hand fan just to be extra catty with your schadenfreude BULLSHIT!”

“Nein! I purchased it from ze schtadium!”

“FLORAL HAND FAAAAAANS!” Calls out Food Cart Clown, waving three floral hand fans as he wheels his cart around the stadium! “GETCHA FLORAL HAND FAAAAAANS HEEEEEEEEERE! PUNCTUATE YA SNIDE INSINUATIONS WITH A FLORAL HAND FAAAAAAN!”

Schadenfreude Clown takes out a shiny red nickel and purchases a second hand fan! He fans himself with both fans simultaneously *and* coquettishly!

“Hohoho, isht too bad… which makescht it too good…”

---

“Man, I don’t know why people say Clown City isn’t a great place for tourists! Did you notice how many backslaps I got walking down the street?”

“Sir…” Nadine sighs, swatting a nearly impossible amount of ‘Kick Me’ signs of the back of Peter’s suit jacket… “We need to find this Schadenfreude Clown fellow and bring him to Mister Musk ASAP!”

“Yes, of course!” Principle nods determinedly, before retrieving a telescope from his pocket with a winking clown on the side. “We’ll use this scope I was given by the Clown City welcoming committee! They say looking through it reveals one’s heart’s desires!” Peter looks through it.

“Sir, don’t…” Nadine pinches the bridge of her nose, seeing this bit coming, it happens literally every time someone in Clown City lifts any visual enhancement device to their eyes…

…

“Aha! I see him!”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, he’s that guy sitting on the top row of the baseball stadium!”

“Wow!” Nadine’s eyes widen in surprise. “The scope worked! I guess not everything those clowns do is a prank…”

“Then, Onward we go!” Peter pulls back the telescope.

He has a black ring around his eye.

“Haha, ya just can’t beat the classics.” Chuckles Loves-the-Classics Clown.

---

“WHADDYA WAITING FOR?!? STEAL SECOND! STEAL SECOND!”

Thief Clown slips by Security Guard Clown undetected, picks up second base and drops it in a sack labelled valuable items!

“NOOOOOOOO! NOT LIKE THAT!”

“And that’s going to make it even harder for the Relev Ants! How are they supposed to run the bases when Second Base just got pilfered off the field!”

“Ohohohoho, how abshtolutely groteshque! How hideoush! How…”

“Oh my!” Calls out a voice from the innards of the stadium! “I just got this suit pressed for the big dance tonight! I sure hope nothing messes up my outfit… Like for instance, that girl walking my direction, holding a comically tall stack of ice-cream in a humorously narrow ice cream cone!”

“Yes!” Replies a voice, coming from the same vicinity… “This was the last ice-cream cone my recently-departed grandfather made before we lost him at sea! It was his last wish I enjoy this precariously engineered ice cream cone! It would be a disappointment I would harbor the rest of my days if, instead of consuming this ice cream, it were to fall and ruin the suit of the man that is walking my direction, such that I could not consume it AND my grandfather loved suits while living!”

“...Hohoho?” …Schadenfreude Clown’s unibrow wriggles with intrigue. He dashes deeper into the stadium’s innards…

---

In a hallway within the stadium, Peter Principle is wearing a fresh-pressed baby blue prom suit…

“Nadine, are you sure this is gonna work?” Peter strokes his chin skeptically. “I mean, why would Schadenfreude Clown be attracted by something like human suffering, misfortune, and humiliation?”

…

Nadine, currently dressed like a schoolgirl, holding an ice-cream with six precarious scoops stacked vertically onto it, tilts her head sideways at Peter…

“Mister Principle… and don’t take this like an insult, sir, I’m genuinely just trying to understand… do you ever think before you speak?”

Peter laughs, like that’s a ridiculous question. “That’s silly! If I did that, I wouldn’t speak as fast, now would I? I’d be too busy thinking!”

…Nadine shakes her head.

“Trust me, sir. This is exactly how we cat-”

The sound of shoes honking down the hall.

“Oh! That must be him! Quickly, sir! The plan!”

“Ah right! Of course!” Peter adjusts his suit so it looks very nice…

As creeping down the hall, watching like a creep around the corner… It’s Schadenfreude Clown! That creep!

“Ohohoho?” Schadenfreude Clown peers curiously as this baby-blue suit wearing dork approaches a young schoolgirl.

“Eck-SCUZE me.” Peter says, sounding very much like a third grader participating in a school play with his very first speaking role… “Did I HEAR you correctly that THAT ice cream was the last cone your grandfather made before he passed away? Tragically and in the prime of his life?”

“Yes!” Nadine nods, slightly more competent at acting. “His dying wish was that I eat it and it not end up on someone’s suit.” Nadine gestures with her hand as she speaks… The ice cream begins tilting back and forth…

…

“Hmmmm…” Schadenfreude Clown remains far back at the corner of the hallway… His unibrow knits with disinterest… This is hardly schaden at all, let alone freude!

“He’s not buying it, Nadine…” Peter whispers.

Nadine exhales. “Then, I think we’re going to have to up the ante a little bit…” Nadine reaches into her pocket and retrieves…

An urn?

“Ohohoooooooooooo.” Schadenfreude Clown murmurs curiously.

“THESE.” Nadine raises the urn. “Are the ashes of my grandfather! They’re the last thing I have to remember him, besides his last ice cream! He was cremated, even though he spent his whole life in ice cream freezers! Which is a kind of irony!”

Peter scratches his head confused… “Wait, is Schadenfreude irony? Should we be doing ironic things? Oh, we should do the one about rain on your wedding da-”

Nadine stumbles forward… She goes to protect the ice cream cone… but loses her grip on the urn! “GRAND-DAD! NO!”

SMACK! It hits Peter in the face and mouth!

“Oh… NO!” Peter is still a bad actor. “My SUIT! It’s rui-*cough*... wait… *keraugh*...NADINE, ARE THESE ACTUALLY ASHES?!?” Peter rubs his tongue! “Oh god, this tastes like death!”

“GRANDPA!” Nadine cries, as she tries to brush the ashes off the suit and back into the urn… As she does, the ice cream tilts over… AND ONTO PETER’S SUIT!

“Ohohohohooooooooo.” Schadenfreude Clown giggles delightedly, clapping his hands, which make little honks…

“Ohhhhhhhh…” Peter is now covered in ashes and ice cream… his face has been rockied and roaded and grandpa’d… His expression is one of disgust!

“NOOOOOO! GRANDPA! HE WANTED SOMEONE TO EAT THAT ICE CREAM!” Nadine squeals horrified, as she scoops some of the ashy ice-cream off Peter’s face. “It was his dying wish…”

“JESUS, WHAT THE F-” Peter screams just before Nadine shoves two scoops of neapolitan octogenarian into his gullet.

“Oh mein gott, yesssssshhhhhhh…” Schadenfreude Clown fans himself, scurrying forward, eager to get closer… “Isht der best! Schimply schublime!”

SF’s a few feet away as Peter is dry-heaving, trying to evacuate the contents of his stomach onto the ground…

When suddenly, Nadine tosses the urn away!

And catches SF in a big butterfly net, swinging down on him!

“GOTCHA!”

…Peter helplessly spits ash on the ground.

“...Nadine… couldn’t… couldn’t we have just… used prop ashes?”

“Could have, sir! But you’re not a good enough actor to fake getting hit with ashes! So we had to use the real stuff!”

“Ohohohoho!”

---

THE CLOWN CITY WHITE HOUSE

“Mister President Clown.”

A number of President Clown’s military advisor clowns are making a presentation before him…

“At oh-nine-hundred hours…”

…

General Clown turns back to his assistant. “Oh-Nine-hundred, correct?”

“Ohhhhhhhhhh…” Double-Checks the Time Clown double-checks his watch. [color=#7ff6a2“Nine-hundred, yep!”

“Schadenfreude Clown was kidnapped by two humans from Planet Earth!”[/color]

“Egads!” President Clown gasps…

General Clown nods. “I’ve prepared to send Clown Team Six to go on a suicide mission to recover him! It will be as dangerous and hilarious a mission as we’ve ever set out on! I imagine knees will be slapped, guts will be busted and not a single side will go unsplit.”

“Also, they’ll almost certainly all die painfully.”

…

President Clown strokes his chin.

“And this is all… to retrieve Schadenfreude Clown?”

“Yessir!” General Clown salutes. “Don’t worry! At the end of this mission, Schadenfreude Clown will be back in Clown City.”

“..Oh. Uh…” President Clown clears his throat. ““No, that’s okay. No thanks.”

…

“Pardon, sir?”

““That’s alright.” President Clown raises a newspaper in front of his eyes, a copy of the How to Non-Chalantly Show Disinterest Quarterly. ““Thanks, though for… uh… letting me know!”

…

The Clown Generals look at each other confused… before departing.

President Clown flips a page of his newspaper…

““Fucking hate that guy.”

---

[amatch]MEANWHILE… BACK ON EARTH[/anatch]

Elon approaches a cage…

In it… Schadenfreude Clown.

“Magnificent.” Elon strokes his chin. “A marvelous specimen. Now, I’d like to make a deal with you, Clown.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh?” Mewls SF Clown in a German fashion.

“I wish to have you as my champion. Fight my battles for me… I could use someone as determined to make others suffer as you see fit to do so.” Elon steeples his fingers before his eyes intensely. “I watched your match against the Kingsguard… You could have defeated Kieran’s lackeys by simply consuming pie. But, that was never your goal was it?”

“Your goal was… pain. Humiliation. Agony.”

“Defeat those who see fit to stand in my way. And all your worldly desires I shall deliver unto you, Clown.”

…

……

Elon looks over at Nadine and Peter. “Can… can he understand me?”

“I canst understand you, Musk.” Musk spins back toward the caged clown… a chill runs down his spine…

“Butsht… do you untershtand me? I sthinkt not.”

Schadenfreude Clown leans against the bars, his smile as wide as his face allows.

“You speak of worldly desiresht? I haft none.”

“I do not consume or imbibe. I care not for love, nor money, nor fame, nor anyschting a man such as you could unterstant.”

…

SF Clown extends his hand…

…Elon peers at it curiously, before extending his own.

“So… do we have a de-”

Elon wraps his hand around SF’s…

BZZZZT! Elon’s hand jolts back!

“AH! FUCK!”

“Ohohohohoho, yesssssht!” Schadenfreude Clown coos with an ecstatic sort of delight! “Ohohoho, how embarrassing for de richest man in der world… to fall victim to a buzzer gag! Ohoho, the shame!”

…Elon sneers furiously! “You… cretin! You FOOL! What if I see fit to leave you in there forever! ROTTING away in a cage! Slowly starving to death as my prisoner...”

…SF Clown sneers comfortably.

“Who ist whose prisoner, Mishtah Musk?”

“I feed on schadenfreude… And if you are fool enough to keep me? I shall be well-fed on your misery…”

---

AH!

Miss Korvayne!

How macabre! How droll! How grotesque!

A woman protesting the authoritarian regime in Dubai…

JAILED! Ohohohohoho! How delicious…

You break all der rules of der local sultanate…

And act surprised when der law of der land isht applied!

Ohohohohoho!

My fellow artist of reaction! My kindred spirit in sheathing the world how it is…

We both haft sheen the beauty in der shuffering…

Your own career emerging from a schpring of lossh…

Your Wicked Sisters… Slain like Der Wicked WItch! Crusht by your poor driving, ohohohohoho!

Unt now you are here… Competing against me!

Schadenfreude Clown!

And your suffering has just begunt!

What shall follow shall leave you begging for the death that was a gift to your shistersh!

Your entrance music shall be a cover of the song you’d actually prefer to come out to!

You shall trip awkwardly on der ramp and everyone will see!

You shall enter der ring… And you shall leap towardsh me! But ze bell will not have rung!

OHHHHHH! How embarrasshing!

Then, we shall dance! You shall trip over your own feet as I maneuver you about der ring! My plaything!

You may be an artist.

But upon you I shall paint a mashterpiesht of human suffering…

The likes of which no one could imagine.

Ohohohoho.

I cannot wait.