Chapter Five: The Crime Lord

Now to the interesting; Clown Prince of Crime!

Name: The Joker, The Clown, The... you bloody get it!!!
Species: Earth Pony
History: Its funny how the large majority of his records are lists of the Psycho Wards he's been locked up in. It starts off with a school trip he took as a foal, one in which he poisoned all the other school children with a psychotropic concoction of his own make.

The victims suffered immensely by Laughing Themselves to Death.

The intended suicide however backfired and he became infused by his own poison, quickly becoming what we all know and love today. Since then his sprees of madness and endless crimes have become the stuff of legend. He made a name for himself in large gangs as an assassin, utilizing a disguise to hide his true identity, even so it wouldn't be long until he would lose the plot again and kill all his bosses.

As he matured he became the criminal mastermind and though his plots usually fail he always has a backup plan that succeeds in someway, causing untold damage and ending many innocent lives.

Other than that he's partial to a sandwich every now and then.

***

Feeling rather down after his second cleanup Stygian moped towards his next destination with a growing dread... it wasn't that he disliked the next resident of B0NER it was just that he was absolutely sure this would end in a similar way to the two times before.

Yes indeed, the Clown Prince Of Crime was the sort to usually keep horrible nasty tricks lying in wait for anypony foolish enough to arrive unawares. Sure the war pony knew how to evade traps like no one else but this was an extenuating circumstance, this Joker had a habit of detonating them even while he himself was in proximity.

There would be no warning either, or reason as to why, perhaps his hoof slipped, perhaps he sneezed, perhaps a troll face appeared in his mind and the many voices egged him on to do it.

Whatever the case Stygian was on his way then and there, to the only place the psycho could be... he was the old kind of crime thinker so he would inevitably choose only one place as his residence. There were not many buildings that could offer Clown the privacy and dankness he required.

That was why he made use of the warehouse that had been hastily built by the team of Thugs he kept around him at all times.

It was a squalid building, made mainly of the rotten and broken wood left around, the few walls made of brick were poorly constructed and already cracking. Then again what did you expect from a bunch of brain dead morons who could not even remember their names and so relied instead upon a number system to differentiate themselves from the others.

Clown was a mad pony, thus when Stygian carefully kicked open the door and rolled in he was treated to a spectacle that made his mane stand on end.

Clown was a tall sleek bastard with a near black green mane and tail, both of which were short and neatly gelled. His eyes where pinpoint in size and pure black, the whites that surrounded them an unhealthy yellow... the years of drug and alcohol abuse had not been kind. His coat was a white so pale it looked diseased and he wore a pristine white shirt with a bright purple suit jacket over it.

Strangely though this psychopath was a neat freak when concerning himself everything else around him however was far from similar.

But that wasn't the first thing ponies noted with this pony, oh no!

The obtrusive and off putting smile was the first thing anypony saw and quite often the last. It was truly massive, a mad grin that was all yellow teeth and cheeks stretched to their limits.

The treatment Stygian now endured was only worsened by that smile.

"I'm Mister White Clown!" Clown sung, his voice oddly catchy. "I'm Mister J! I'm Mister Stab You In The Back, I'm Mister Six Feet Below! Friends will call me The Joker And Madness Follows Me Wherever I go!

The manic pony was dancing, with a cane... Four Thugs followed suit, singing a chorus as they danced in order to the criminal mastermind.

"He's Mister White Clown..." They sung. "He's Mister J, He's Mister Sell Your Mother, Around Him Ponies Tend To Drown!"

"Friends call me The Joker! There Is No Low I Can't Go! Ponies Tend To Bleed At My Touch I Guess I'm Just Too Much!"

Stygian was leaning backwards sitting on his rump, his face was panicked and desperate, he wanted this mental torture to end now before his mind exploded from sheer despair.

"I never want to know a body that's over Thirty Degrees, I'd rather have it Twenty, then Ten, then Five, then let em freeze!"

"He's Mister White Clown, He's Mister J, He's Mister Cut You Up, Leaves You Six Feet Bel..."

"Whoa, Woe, Wow!" The Clown Prince of Crime halted the music, somehow ending it on the rhyme. His eyes focused on the black earth pony who sat with an expression of sheer horror on his face. "Err... Stygian..." He grimaced, then rallied, turning it all into on big joke. "What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?"

The terminology 'girl' made him snap. "Cut the crap!" Stygian growled. "I never want to see anything like that again!!!"

"You should really announce yourself before you barge in then," He grinned, as he always did.

"I despise singing and dancing!" Stygian yelled. "You do know that sort of thing is outlawed... now that I say that I realize how stupid I sound."

"Oh come on it wasn't that bad!" Clown frowned, though he still smiled.

"Please!" Stygian snorted and rolled his eyes. "The tune needs work and personally I thought the lyrics sucked!"

Clown shrugged, throwing his cane to one of the thugs, number twelve written on his wooly jumper.. "Well you can't please everypony!" The psychotic pony chuckled, leaping of the impromptu stage and landing before the other eye twitching psychopath. "What can I do for you this fine evening?"

Stygian released a long drawn out sigh. "Well..." he began but paused as he took note of the activity to his left. "Hey... are those..."

"No not at all!" Clown laughed waving a hoof to the two thugs carrying the missile in question. "Where would I have gotten a nuclear weapon at this time of the year!?" The two thugs blushed and tried unsuccessfully to stand in front of the questionable object.

"Aristomache reported a few missing last week," Stygian responded with a flat expression. "What did I tell you about doing that?"

"Erm...?" Clown thought about it.

***

"It puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again!" Clown answered to the poor victim in the well.

"But I..." The victim began, with no clue as to where the lotion was or if it would be provided.

"Put the lotion in the fecking basket!" Stygian yelled into the well.

***

"Uh uh!" Stygian growled, clapping his hooves together. "Wrong memory!"

"Hmm..." Clown thought about it once more.

***

"Fava Beans and a nice Chianti! Ffffufff ffuff ffuff ffuff ffuff," A drunk Stygian began.

A drunk Clown continued it. "Ffuff ffuff ffuff ffuff..."

***

"No," Stygian facehoofed. "Not the time we had a Ffuff Off either."

"Let me try again!" Clown demanded waving an impatient hoof, eyes squinting with some mental process.

***

They wheeled the mare tied to the post up to Mayor Jenkins and in a proud voice Clown declared. "We found a witch can we burn her?"

"BUUUUUURN HER!" Stygian agreed standong beside him with a pitchfork.

***

"Okay," Stygian stopped him, "You're way off now, you could have at least picked a memory where neither of us were drunk... you know what? Lets just move on, I saw nothing."

"Wonderful!" Clown smirked. "I always love it when you turn a blind eye!"

"You've done it for me often enough," Stygian sighed desperately. "Look, I'm here to ask you if you have any complaints?"

"Well!!!" Clown began, his chest puffing as he took in a massive lungful of air. "Now that you ask I want you to know that there is an appalling lack of any law enforcement around here! Why, only the other day I saw myself literally mugging an elderly mare in broad daylight without a single pony trying to stop me! It was despicable!"

Stygian nodded to himself. "So basically you want somepony to try and stop you so you can kill them."

"That is the long and short of it, you know me so well!" Clown nodded with a glitter in his mad beady eyes. "Also there's a profound lack of decent booze around here."

"Yes I know," Stygian groaned and nodded, then returned with; "But you're the criminal, Import it yourself!"

"That sounds like a lot of work..." Clown muttered.

"You're selling nukes to the gryphons," Stygian answered with another of his glorious flat looks. "Correction: You're selling faulty nukes to the gryphons."

"You do have a point," Clown shrugged with a laugh.

Stygian felt satisfied, this one had at least gone well. "By the way... what's up with the singing anyway?"

Clown grinned wildly. "I plan to use this new found power to drive the next hero who tries to stop me insane!"

Stygian shuddered. "You fiend!"

"I know," Clown sighed happily. "Oh... by the way... Now Thug Number Twenty Three!!!"

"Duh?" The thug with the number twenty three on his jumper froze, his look of stupidity truly profound.

"The bucket you fool!" Clown slapped a hoof over his eyes.

The thug charged forward, bucket in hoof... and neatly tumbled into a ball, the contents of his bucket flying gracefully through the air.

SPLAT!

There was a moments silence as things calmed down.

"Well that didn't go according to plan," Stygian answered, completely clean.

"He's new," Clown sighed dripping entirely with motor oil that now drenched his body, he pulled out a pistol and shot the Thug dead.

"I'm gonna go," Stygian turned to leave. "Let you get cleaned up."

"I'd appreciate that..." Clown nodded gratefully. "I have another victim in the well by the way, if you want to come around later and shout random nonsense at him for a few hours."

"I'll bring the rum!" Stygian grinned.

Author's Note

I love this lunatic!

Clown Prince Of Crime

Also here is the song reference for his... song, a request of his for the story: Snow Miser