It was pissing down, a real cats and dogs kind of night. Only the bummest of bums was out in this, hooch whores lifting their skirts for a quick $5 feel.

The street was empty a lone empty packet of camels cartwheeling down the kerb bouncing from one side of the road to the other like a drunk bum.

The packet lodges in a manhole grate – closer inspection and the grate seems to be steaming, the rain instantly evaporating as it touches down.  The streetlights flicker as the packet loosens itself and continues its journey.

**CRRAACCK**

The manhole frees itself from the frame and wisps of purple smoke are emitted – the streetlamps blow one by one up the road and everything boils down to a sickly purple fugue.

Long grubby fingernails exit from under the frame scrabbling for purchase on the sodden road, fingernails already dirt encrusted becoming caked now in asphalt.

The manhole grid bangs back as a mass of ginger hair and a pale white face is puled up from the depths.

The face looks around, its head turning unnaturally 360 degrees then snapping back like a rubber.

“It’s been a while…” the now obvious clown mutters to itself sniffing the air.  “Still stinks of shit… Let’s see what needs fucking up.”

The clown laughs manically to itself as it jumps athletically from the hole in the road, the purple smog increases chokingly… over a period of 30 secs it gradually disperses.

All that remains is the empty packet of camels and two large footprints on the road – the streetlights flicker on, normality seems to be resumed.

Following the recent upturn of events, the Clown had been checking the family journals buried deep under the stable where he kept his attack midgets.  A dog-eared leather-bound journal was unearthed wrapped in a rotten cloth bag, it flicked small amounts of mold gathering at the edges of it and carefully opened the rice paper thin pages – there was a lot written in here.  Candle light flickered off one of the feed buckets and the clown began to read.

Several hours later…

The clown emerged into the murky in between light of a Philadelphia dawn and purposefully strode into the bowels of the city.  It stopped at an un-remarkable street feet astride a rusty slightly off kilter man hole.

“So this is where it began…. This time round”

Looking around it stoops down and picks up the remains of a slightly decomposed camel pack and places it into his pocket.

“It’s taken longer than we thought Grandfather…” it mutters. “But the circus has finally arrived.”

The clown smiles a manic smile, small sharp pointed teeth, resembling the ruin of a row of demolished houses can be seen in the maw of its mouth.

The clown jumps slightly into the air clicking its heels together before sauntering off back into the city.

“Now to grow and thrive”.

In The Underground basement pub lit only by a flickering bulb light,

The Gentleman sitting on the table with the Glass of wine in the right facing and a envelope on his left facing the so called undertaker in the city of philadelphia 

"I need body for my recent research specimen" said with a smile and he push this envelope.

"Heh, you are really a madman on your medical studies but wait let me think" Undertaker Joe Amato Responds holding a glass of wine and drink it in one go and with a moment "Aha you are lucky Doc i got some rumors for you Word in the... underground.. is that Desmond_Heywood is now residing 6 feet underground wearing some pretty fine jewelry right over in this city of philadelphia." 

"Thank you old man just make it sure that this is a right information or else"chuckles while looking at him
 

Undertaker Freeze for a moment and forcing himself to laugh at this statement of him

"Dont worry my doc this is my business and im upright person i dont want to be a specimen of yours" 

"alright then i hope more interaction coming from you" The Gentleman just stand up and walk to the exit of the basement.

                     *******

In a matter of minutes when he is walking on unremarkable streets on the philadelphia this gentleman just notice something under that glowing light a strange man standing on the street smiling at him with a sharp razor teeth and suddenly he laughs at him

"What a nice city is this I just plan to go some unremarkable street to avoid being follow but it turns out i found a really strange fellow that is wearing a really weird costume with a full of white makeup on his face in a late night of this day" grumble inwardly by this gentleman but still maintain a casual look on his face and grab a stick of cigarette inside of his right side of pocket of his lab gown and lit it blowing some mouthful of smokes in the air while holding his on his left hand gun "Hey Weirdo! what are you laughing at?"

Really sad to see the circus came to town, this killed almost everyone, thanks for a death-circus that I really be without if I had something to say about.

Kill 'em all now please!

Mate i cannot wait to get the chance to work with you on what i hope to be a long prosperous run, lets smash it. 

EvilClown? Grin-07 was sure he had read a piece about the man in his father’s notebook. He flicked through the pages, past the drawings of Mrs Marleau, past the Private Investigator’s report on erroneous spending by Al_Capone ($20,000 on muesli?!), and found what he was looking for.

BARREL SCRAPING COMES UP EMPTY; EVILCLOWN AUTHED

by Grin-06

As a result of the rampant spread of CLOrona virus, recently upgraded to a global pandemic by the International Sanitary Conference, citizens across the world have been forced into self-isolation in a bid to prevent further exposure. Unfortunately, the criminal underworld has not been immune to the illness, with many displaying signs of infection and common symptoms such as smooth-brainedness, excessive saliva and extreme aggression have been visible across the country.

In addition to this viral terror, Philly has also been crippled by a homelessness crisis. Apparently 46.67% of Iris's HQ being empty, 13.33% of Javier's HQ being empty, 20.00% of TurboCharged's HQ being empty and 33.33% of Richard Wad's HQ being empty resulted in wide-spread panic amongst the city hierarchy. The prospect of an immediate influx of 34 new arrivals (a near 40% rise in existing city population) taking up all usable real estate was too much to bear and a new boss was needed to pick up the slack.

The desperate call went out to the families within the city; 'do you have anyone capable of stepping up?' Iris looked sheepish, Javier put his head in his hands and RichardWad was buried beneath an enormous mound of papers, later revealed to be the forthcoming horoscopes section of his 2nd edition, and was barely able to breath, let alone reply. TurboCharged looked at the struggles of his fellow Dons and sympathised. He also had nobody capable of filling this void and even the dregs of Philly potential auths had been drained to their depths. 

When it looked for all the world like Philly would have to face the real and present danger of not being able to accommodate the biggest single defection of general populace into the Mafia since records began, TurboCharged hatched a plan. If he didn't have anyone capable, what about someone incapable? If there was nobody suitable, what about someone unsuitable? If there was no life left in the barrel, what about some scum forming on the underside, crawling around in all the shit and the mud?

And so it was with this line of thinking, EvilClown, failed Fat People News Chronicle intern applicant and last frail hope in the battle against two great perils of our time, CLOrona virus and mass homelessness, was given the nod to setup his own family. We wish him well.

Grin-07 finished reading and promptly left.