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At first it was just a bunch of random people popping up as clowns on the east coast. Nobody thought much of it. Then they started standing in back yards and stalking people. Watching people. Slowly more and more started popping up. Soon it was in five states, then ten, then twenty, soon it hit the whole United States. Still people just thought it was odd. An oddity and they became a bit more aware of their surroundings, and then got the hell out of dodge if they saw a clown. The motto of the nation seemed to become ‘Nope Outta There!’ and those who got to close… well they weren’t seen again.
Bobby was watching the news as he worked or his next painting. The stupid clown thing again. What was with them? It wasn’t because of a movie, a book, a show, an art show; it wasn’t to promote anything but chaos. He thought it was stupid. Seriously a bunch of grown ass people out there dressed as clowns scaring the hell out of the sheep. He snorted as he threw his brush against the wall as his painting still wasn’t coming out the way he wanted it too. “Seriously the stupidity of people is hindering my creative process.” He muttered as he heard the news.
‘There are letters being sent to various law enforcement officers stating that all will soon come to head. That there will be blood. That there will be rivers of blood down the roads of the country. Residents are urged to not try to contact or deal with these clowns yourself and contact the local authorities.’
Bobby threw a shoe at his old as fuck television shutting it off. He only had it for the news channels and that barely worked. It took a friend a lot of re-wiring and other things for him to keep that television. He would have to upgrade soon. But seriously this country was becoming more and more idiotic with each passing moment! First the presidential candidates were jokes, how the hell America allowed that to happen he would never know, riots and hate that hasn’t really been seen for a long while was rearing its ugly head again, and then these fucking clowns! Bobby glared at his unfinished work. He was upset. He looked at the date. It was the weekend of Halloween. He shrugged. Might as well go out and have a few beers. His favorite bar wouldn’t be too busy, all the parties were mostly at the dance clubs and such anyways, with that he grabbed his jacket and left to have some beer.
He was walking home around two in the morning. “Strange.” He whispered. The streets were dead. They shouldn’t be dead on a Saturday night before Halloween. It should be filled with drunk college kids and other adults trying to forget how miserable their lives were and how their dreams had died dark and horrible deaths as they got day jobs and forgot to dream. He saw a couple of people in clown outfits dragging themselves toward him. He rolled his eyes and decided to nope out and went another way home. Once home he locked his doors and went to bed.
The next morning he moaned over his hangover as he dropped a couple of Alka-Seltzers into a Bloody Mary. Damn it he was an artist he had to live up to the stereotype somehow besides the fact he won’t make a dime of his stuff until he is dead. He chugged his mix as he slammed on this television… to get static. Great! The damn thing finally broke. He glared at it. Fine, he would go finally break down and buy a new one after he had a shower. He trudged to the bathroom slamming the door behind him. It made him feel a little better.
After his shower and another Bloody Mary and a cup of coffee he grabbed his to go cup of coffee and went outside. He flicked his eyes all around. There were crashed cars, sirens going off, and screams and smoke in the distance. He shrugged and got into his car, he had to go waste some money on a damn television so he could watch the news he really would get pissed off over. He just had locked his doors and started to back out when a damn bloody clown jumped onto the hood of his car. Bobby refused to say he screamed but he did curse as his coffee tipped over his hand as he was setting it in the cup holder. He slammed on his brakes and stared for a moment before the crazy fucking clown zombie thing starting to bash in his window. He took off like a bat out of hell and down the road. Fuck! “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Bobby slammed his hand on the wheel. “That was a messed up prank. Has to be a prank.” He shook his head and then took a deep drink of his coffee. “Let’s just get to the damn supercenter and get that stupid television.”
Bobby pulled into the stupid store he hated but was within his budget and blinked. Okay, this is the deadest ever. He thought as he went into the automatic doors. He looked around. It was too silent. Where was the grouchy old greeter? Where were the annoying kids? Where were the insane wacko crazies? He moved back toward the electronics. He looked around. It looked like a damn hurricane came through here. He moved to grab a television when he saw two bloody looking clowns. “Look whatever this joke is, I am done.” He stated.
The clowns came charging at him. Bobby did the only thing he could think of and picked up a television and bashed them over the heads, killing them… again. Bobby swallowed. “Maybe not a prank.” He whispered. He took a few deep breaths. “Oh damn it all to hell.” He grabbed a cart and moved toward the hunting section. He cleaned them out of the bullets, knifes, camping stuff and then after stuffing it all in his car, he went back and stuffed it full of food. He went home and barricade his home after making sure he could get in. He then picked up the phone. “Pick up the damn phone, I pay the bill for you to pick it up!” He yelled in it.
“Yo brother! Did you see what is going on out there?”
“No I didn’t. I just had to like kill three of the damn things because I didn’t know what was going on. What the hell?”
“Dude, it seems like some crazy wack person wanted a zombie Armageddon, because he had been preparing for it all and dude he fucked up somehow and now they all get a need to dress like clowns before they die. You get bite, you get a fever, you dress up like clown, you die.”
“Where you at?”
He could hear the smirk of his brother. “Hunting.” He laughed. “I will be by your place in a couple of hours.”
“Damn it Jimmy!”
“Don’t damn it Jimmy me! I have been preparing for this; my years of video gaming and moving watching will now come in handy!” Jimmy laughed and hung up.
Bobby sighed but made sure his house was barricaded. Why people in the movies always went out hunting or finding people he never knew. He didn’t have anybody but his brother. And his brother was on his way here. Oh who the hell was he kidding? He would be bored staying here. He may be an artist but hell he was raised as an Iowa boy. Time to go back home. He picked up the phone. “Meet me at home. Iowa.” He hung up. He went outside and smirked. He always wanted his neighbor’s truck. He went over and broke into the home shooting his neighbor clown zombie in the head and taking the keys. “Thanks Mitch! Always wanted your truck.” He then moved and pulled it up to his backdoor and filled it with his weapons and food. “Let’s get on the road.” He stated as he put his St. Christopher medal in the rearview mirror. He smirked as he pulled out on the high way. This was going to be an adventure. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with the damn election. Zombie Clowns. Damn it, who would have thought that when the zombie apocalypse came they would be dressed like clowns. He laughed as he hit the gas. “Should be fun.” He stated to nobody as he got the truck up to eighty five. "Damn it Mitch! Don't you ever fill up your tank?"