“What are you doing out here, Knight?” A voice hissed in front of Darrin in the fading evening light.
He looked up—the red and white cloth in his hand—at a Clown with orange and green hair, wearing a puffy purple shirt and black and white wide striped pants. Darrin assumed the reason for the hissing sound, the Clown made when he spoke, was due to the pointy teeth in his mouth. He held a bucket in his left hand.
“Have you gone deaf, Knight?” the Clown snapped.
“Sorry,” he replied and stuffed the cloth into his jacket pocket. “I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what? Didn’t know that you are in Clown Wood without permission?”
“In what?” he answered looking around at his surroundings.
“In what, indeed?” the Clown became more agitated. He put the bucket down and approached. Saliva started dripping from his mouth. He stood face to face with Darrin. His breath smelled of rotten eggs and sauerkraut. “I could rip your throat out with my teeth for this trespass,” he hissed. “You know the rules.”
Darrin pulled the foil from his belt not yet raising it and said. “Where is Mary, Ace?”
The Clown squinted. “She definitely is not out here, Knight.” He spat emphasizing Knight. He hissed and moved his soft-overstuffed belly into Darrin. “Don’t you think you should be moving on?”
Darrin stared hard into the Clown’s eyes. He saw only darkness in them, no color from the iris, just black. He held tightly to his foil, intent on defending himself if he needed, but still did not back away.
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