The Blender

Metallic ribs of roller coaster track intertwine amidst the sky. The sounds of laughter, rides, and carnie barkers fill the air. The glow of the traveling carnival beckons all with promises of fun, thrills, and excitement. The magical dark carnival is in town—your town.

The line for the new ride wraps in a zigzagging line around the concession stands and chance game booths. Excited riders wait like livestock ushered by curiously edgy clowns in powder blue tuxedos.

Mr. Smith booms, "The Blender, huh?" He snaps pictures. The bright flash annoys everyone.

The entrance of The Blender is an enormous ventriloquist dummy face. Its hair is a walnut brown swirl. Piano key teeth decorate its dimpled smile. Wide blue eyes shift from side to side, always watching.

Betty glares at her husband, "Oh, Dick. Why do we have to go through with this?"

Smoking a cigarette she chimes, "You know Timmy hates to wait."

A clown wearing a bowler hat plucks her cigarette, pointing at the no smoking sign. Taking a drag, he continues his patrol.

Timmy howls, "I thought I was the one who went on rides!" His emerald green eyes shift to slits. "Why can't I go on, too?!"

A clown sourly points at the infamous ‘You must be this tall to ride' sign.

The Smiths are ushered to an elevated wooden platform, and are prompted to stand on a bold red X sloppily painted on the warped floorboards.

Timmy waits for his parents at the exit of The Blender, holding a red balloon. He paces, the balloon bobbing obediently.

The clown at the exit of The Blender watches Timmy.

The crooked nametag on his soiled wifebeater reads ‘Giggles' in shaky pink crayon.

"Hey, Kid."

Meeting his gaze, Timmy hisses at the clown, "What do you want, clown-ass?"

The clown cocks the brim of his tiny bowler hat. Streaks of cakey white, red, and blue clown makeup mask his demented face.

"I remember you", Giggles muses, disappearing momentarily. He returns with a towering glass of thick, red, icy goodness and places it on the counter.

Timmy screams, "A frosty?!"

Letting go of the balloon, he runs toward the counter. He snatches the glass with two hands, and the balloon disappears into the sky.

Giggles winks. "Not quite a frosty, but I'm sure you'll like it."

Beaming, his cheeks concave while sipping.

"Yeah, it's a Special flavor."

Timmy's eyes shimmer, "A special flavor? Just for me? What's it called?"

Timmy squirms, his taste buds watering.

Giggles smiles. His teeth are a yellowish tint with sea foam plaque barnacles. "I believe it's called..."

The red balloon in the sky is now a mere dot in the sky. Another group takes their positions on the red X.

Timmy's mouth falls open, a bit of the frothy liquid drools from his bottom lip.

"...Mr. and Mrs. Smith."

Back to: Vol 3, Issue 1