I’ve been writing for Nightmare on Film Street for almost 7 months now, and they have been some of the happiest months of my life. I have been able to work alongside some of the best writers in the horror community and talk to people all over the world about the things that go bump in the night. If you’ve followed my work at all, then you have probably gathered that I am a 30-something wannabe-hipster who is a new father and sells books for a living. I’m afraid to tell you this, because it may jeopardize my standing as a Senior Contributor for the site, but none of those facts are true. It has all been a lie.
My real name is Dave Hanson, and I was a Captain in the Crescent Cove Police Department during the Klown invasion of 1988. I have been in hiding since that day, but I am finally ready to tell my story. You may have seen my story told in the biopic Killer Klowns from Outer Space, and think that I am just some fool trying to capitalize on the 30th anniversary of that film’s release, but you would be wise to not dismiss me so easily. I recommend you pay attention, boys and girls, because they are coming back, and they may land in your town next.
The day began like all of the others in Crescent Cove… Boring. I was filing paperwork at the precinct when Sergeant Mooney walked in the door with a couple of college kids cuffed and ready to book. They were apparently drinking some wine in the park, like kids do. They look like they had been roughed up a bit, but Mooney would never admit to that. He was a cranky old bastard who hated anything less than 40 years old, including his scotch. We all knew that he would drink on the job, but I could never catch him in the act to turn him in. After I got him settled down, I heard a loud commotion in the street, someone was burning rubber and jumping the curb. I decided to let out some of the steam built up in me due to my daily negative Mooney interaction, so I stormed out the door to see what the problem was.
It was Debbie. My Debbie. The thing I loved most in the world. She came screaming out of the car, but I couldn’t hear what she said. Her words were muffled by the blood rushing through my ears and pumping my brain full of red-hot rage. The only thing that registered to me was the person getting out of the driver’s side of the car. Not her mom or her dad, or even one of her insipid girlfriends that she would make me hang out with when we were dating, but a guy. Mike Tobacco, a 25-year-old with the emotional maturity and stability of a toddler. What the hell was he doing driving my Debbie around town, crashing into mailboxes and police cars? I snapped back and finally heard what she was saying. Klowns? Circus Klowns were killing people? They were shooting them with ray-guns and wrapping them up into cotton candy cocoons? Ok, I wanted to believe her, but it was plain to me that Mike had given her some type of drug to coerce her into going with him up to “Top of the World”, the local lovers-lane where the kids used to go to explore the sights and one another. I could smell booze on their breath, was it champagne? I took them inside to get ot the bottom of what they were yelling at me.
Mooney was there just having the time of his life with all of this. “Sure”, he said, “go out and look for the Killer Klowns running around town. I’ll be sure to tell the chief all about it when he gets back on Monday”. What an asshole. I would have taken Debbie straight home and thrown Mike into a cell for the night, but they claimed that there were two people dead. One of those was Gene Green, the old man who sold hot dogs to tourists during the summer. He never hurt anyone, and he mostly kept to himself and his hound dog, so I loaded them up in my cruiser to go check it out, Mooney laughing and hollering all the while.
I wasn’t going to let Debbie spend one more minute with Tobacco, so I dropped her off at home and told her to lock herself up and to be smart. You know what that Mike did then? He walked her to the door and kissed her, right in front of me! The nerve this little boy must have. I vowed to myself that as soon as I saw that their story was bullshit, I would throw cuffs on him and arrest him for… something. I would think of something to hit him with. Kissing Debbie, right after learning that we used to date? He was going to get his, I promise you that!
About 20 minutes later, guess what I saw in the woods? Nothing. Just a giant crater-sized hole that wasn’t suspicious at all. I spun Mike around and cuffed him, just like I said I would. I threw him in the squad car and started to head back towards town, when I came across the other cars in the sex-lot. They were all abandoned, and one of them was covered in something that resembled cotton candy. Cotton candy? Were they telling me the truth, or was this just another prank meant to make fun of me because Debbie dumped me? Inside the candy-like webs, I found something that made my blood turn cold. A pair of glasses, cracked, as if they had been sat on or something. I’m a rational man, so I obviously believed their entire story instantly and released Mike from his handcuffs.
What happened next was a blur. We were heading back into town when I finally saw one of these monstrosities. I was… making shadow puppets on the side of a building? Five or six people were standing there, transfixed. They were laughing, having the time of their lives, when they were swallowed up by a shadow-dinosaur! The clown had somehow taken them into his hands through the use of shadow-magic and fed them to the popcorn in his briefcase. It sounds insane, but it happened. I radioed to the precinct, but Mooney was already half in the bag and wouldn’t pay attention to a damn word I was saying. He thought it was a joke, and wouldn’t call over to our neighboring town for reinforcements. So, Mike and I decided to split up. I would head to the station to call for back-up while he went to go warn others about the Klowns.
The station was quiet. Too quiet.
Mooney was nowhere to be found, but I did see footprints. Large, comical footprints, like from a Looney Toons cartoon, were right there on the floor, leading into the area where we kept the prisoners. When I opened the door, they were everywhere. It’s like the clown had heard that new Lionel Richie jam and danced himself all over that ceiling. There were two candy-cocoons lodged into the corner of one of the cells. I peeled away the outer layers, but neither of them were Mooney. They were the two college students from the park unlucky enough to run into the Sergeant earlier in the night. Poor kids.
I went back to the office area and there he was. The son of a bitch that broke into our station and killed those kids. He was sitting there in Mooney’s chair, ugly and smug as anything I have ever seen. I was about to light him up with righteous lead when he lifted his left arm. Perched on it, like a ventriloquist’s dummy, was Mooney. He was being worked from the inside by this monster’s disgusting brat-sized fingers. The perpetrator discarded Mooney, who was most definitely deceased, and approached me. I drew my weapon and fired. One, two, three shots went right into the perp’s body, but he didn’t stop. Stuffing, like from a teddy bear flew from his wounds, but his approached never faltered. I steadied by shooting hand, aimed at the clown’s bulbous red nose, and fired. It was a direct hit. The beast screamed and spun around in a shell of bright light super-fast before exploding in a shower of confetti.
I left the station to go find Debbie, but I was too late. The Klowns had found her and trapped her in a balloon for transport to their ship. In pursuit of the vehicle was Mike and his two idiot friends, the Terenzi brothers. They were chasing the Klown’s vehicle in their equally-as-absurd ice cream truck. I began to follow, lights and siren blaring. Whichever brother that was driving (did I mention that they were idiots?) thought that he was getting pulled over, so he slammed on the brakes and caused me to run directly into the truck. It was a slight bump that caused no damage to the ice cream truck, but it apparently rendered my squad car completely useless. I jumped into the idiot brother’s truck and we took off for the creature’s mothership, which we knew would be at the amusement park that had not been mentioned up to this point. We arrived and beheld one of the strangest sights I have ever seen. A large, tent-like structure that was pulsating light and was obviously and alien ship. We entered through the fun-house entrance and began our search through the labyrinthine hallways for my Debbie.
We lost the brothers along the way (idiots), but found ourselves in a giant chamber, filled with cotton-candy cocoons. They must have had the entire town spun into their sugary webs and hung from hook son the walls. The smell. God, the smell. It was sweet. My stomach turned somersaults and threatened to spill, but my mouth watered. It smelled so delicious. One of the Klowns, a real fat one, entered the room and started slapping the cocoons. He was testing their ripeness! He pulled out the craziest straw I have ever seen in my life and plunged it directly into the center of the cotton-candy ball. Blood and viscera went up, down, round-and-round the length straw until it reached his lips and he began to drink. He gorged on the fluid of one of my townspeople, so much so that he belched. It was the most horrifying thing that I have ever seen, and I have spent the last 30 years trying to forget it.
They didn’t kill everyone in the town, though. Like with my Debbie, they kept some alive in balloons that circled the room. What did they want with those people? Were they meant for something other than eating? Were they… for breeding? I can only assume this is the case because Debbie was one of them, and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. She was a ray of sunshine in a dark world. I pulled steel and shot her balloon into pieces, and we ran for the door. That’s when we encountered the Klowns. They were everywhere. They chased us down the halls in their surprisingly quick-but-awkward gate. They fired at us and forced us deeper into the ship’s guts. We slid down poles, ran through trick-hallways and eventually found ourselves in the ship’s main control center.
We were surrounded. We were outnumbered. My shotgun was a useless club at this point. The Klowns were everywhere. They swung at us with colorful bats and golf clubs, forcing us upwards onto a platform. I turned to Debbie to say nay final goodbyes, then a miracle happened. The idiot Terenzi brothers burst into the room with their ice-cream truck and demanded that the clowns let us go! They tried to make the clown on top of their truck seem like a god to these creatures, and, idiotic as it was, it worked long enough for us to get the hell out of there! Then something strange began to happen. The Klowns all looked up, then they started to run and hide. We all looked up two the center of the ceiling and quickly saw why. Descending from the roof was the largest, most horrifying creature that I have ever laid eyes on. It was a Klown that made all the others look like tiny dolls. It was gigantic, it was angry, and it was hungry.
I won’t go into much detail about what happened next. I don’t want it to seem like I’m painting myself as the hero of the story, even though I totally am. Mike and Debbie ran as I stood against the monstrous beast, let’s call him Jojo the Klownzilla. I fired my pistol, which I had forgotten I had when we were surrounded before, and fired over and over. The bullets had no effect on Jojo. He kept growling and approaching, eventually wrapping his gigantic hand around me and bringing me close to his face. His hot breath blew my luscious blond hair like a hurricane, covering me in spittle and bits of my fellow townsfolk. The ship began to spin and ascend into the sky. There was no way out, I was a goner. At least I was able to save my Debbie, and hopefully Mike would grow up and take care of her the way I know I would have.
Just when all hope was lost, I remembered my two most powerful weapons were still within my reach; my unmatched bravery and my badge. I grabbed the star that adorned my breast for the last five years, and used its pointed edge to burst Jojo’s disgusting, cancerous nose. He began to scream and dropped me to the floor. I had just enough time to get into the Klown’s funny car before Jojo exploded into fireworks and destroyed the ship. I landed in the car just as the reinforcements arrived and was met with the thing I wanted the most in the entire world, a hug from my Debbie. I put my arms around her, and placed a kiss upon her head, wondering if this Klown invasion was sent to us by the gods to bring Debbie back into my life.
It wasn’t. She was really weirded out by me kissing her head when she was obviously dating Mike. He wasn’t too thrilled with it, either, and punched me right in the face. I guess neither of them are as romantic as I am. We went our separate ways and never saw one another again. Mike and Debbie got married and started a beautiful family. She is one of the world’s most prominent astrophysicists, dedicating her life to the exploration of our universe and defending our world from another Klown invasion. Mike is a comedian and has his own show on some network called IFC. Apparently Debbie wanted laughs more than stability. Whatever. Her loss.
I am still living in Crescent Cove (yes in my car, but it’s a Trans Am! It would be foolish not to live in it!), writing for Nightmare on Film Street and posting on their awesome Facebook group Horror Fiends of Nightmare on Film Street from the comforts of our local library. I have recently come into some money due to a settlement after a horse kicked me in the shin, so I am taking this opportunity to come out into the open and offer my help to anyone who encounters these ferocious clowns. I am starting the Killer Klown Killing Kompany, a mere phone call away whenever you need us. You may have watched Killer Klowns from Outer Space and laughed, and that’s ok. It is a funny and silly account of what actually happened, and you are supposed to laugh at it. When they come back, and believe me, they are on their way right now, you may not find things quite so funny. You won’t be laughing when the big-top lands in your town and the screaming starts.