Joseph Cooper
The Dunk Tank Clown
Somehow I got roped into being the dunk tank clown at this year’s company party. “I thought you guys got Bob from accounting to do this,” I said. “That was last year,” said Chad. “You’re next on the list.” “Why do I have to wear a suit?” I said. “It’s all part of the fun,” said Brad. I sat there in the tank as they lined up the kids. “Why again do I have to talk trash?” I asked. “It’s your job as the clown to antagonize a little. Get the kids riled up,” said Trent. “I’ll try,” I said. “That’s the spirit,” said Brad. “Take your best shot,” said Chad, handing balls to all the children. “I thought it was supposed to be one at a time,” I said. “Shut up and talk trash,” said Trent. “Fine,” I said, composing myself. “You’ll never hit that target, you gassy fribbles,” I yelled at the children. “You’re nothing but a bunch of dunderheads and blunderbusses.” The balls started flying. “You’re all a bunch of frothy milksops, mumpsimus scamps, pediculus lickspittles. You’ll never get me.” Eventually someone hit the target and I went down, hearing the soft explosion of applause from under water. I opened my eyes expecting the muffled scintillation of sunlight, the idiot faces of children, my coworkers pointing and laughing, but I only saw darkness, vast and incalculable darkness. I quickly attempted to brace myself on the side of the tank and found that there was no tank. In fact, there was absolutely nothing. Instinctually, I swam upward and finally, just as I was beginning to panic, broke the surface. I gasped for air under the flattening gaze of a setting sun. As I treaded water I looked all around me, and noticed a series of small fires and a few makeshift huts on the shore. I swam toward them and when I reached land there was a man in a ravaged suit waiting for me. “Melvin, I thought that was you,” he said. I looked closely at him. “Bob?” I asked. “Is that you?” He had lost a substantial amount of weight and was covered in gashes. He held a three-headed rabbit in one hand and extended the other to me. “It’s good to see you,” he said, shaking my hand. “I was wondering who was going to be next.” “HR said you found alternative employment in Des Moines,” I said. “More money, better hours.” “They’ll say the same thing about you,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Now come on, help me collect some more firewood and I’ll tell you everything you need to know to survive in this world.