Greasepaint

  He has lots of fun in store for you!

  Michael is the only survivor of serial killer Reginald Bent, better known as the nationally syndicated TV star Orzo the Clown. Having his own rock band has helped Michael cope. He loses himself in the music and doesn’t think of Orzo or the way the demented clown died right in front of him.

  Now a new DVD release of the Orzo the Clown Show brings all the memories back to the surface. It has also drawn out either Orzo himself, back from the grave, or a copycat just as insane. Anyone Michael knows is a potential victim as the crazed clown slashes his way through another three-ring circus of terror, hell bent on finishing what was started.

  Greasepaint

  David C. Hayes

  Dedication

  For Sandy: Beep, beep.

  Chapter One

  1995

  Children fill the small television studio. They sit, row after row, rising almost to the ceiling. Large, expectant smiles stretch across their faces and each of them sport some kind of clownish merchandise. Children wearing T-shirts, foam fingers and the occasional painted face all quiver in anticipation. Each of them has a sticker on with their name in bold, black letters. They wait, as patiently as grade school children can wait, staring at the darkened stage. Two large cameras on wheels, manned by grumpy-looking camera operators in bucket seats, roll backward as the crew preps for the show opening. A young woman holding a clipboard wearily shuffles to the front of the stage. She is small, her shoulders stooped, clearly exhausted. She raises her hand and, like obedient little people, the children focus their attention on her. It is nearly time.

  Even with the low light, the audience can see the three ringed circus, the elephant stands and the hoops…all the trappings of the highly popular Orzo the Clown Show. The woman with the clipboard clears her throat.

  “Okay. Children? My name is Natalie and I’m Orzo’s assistant. It’s almost time!”

  The children cheer the announcement. The moment Natalie raises her hand again, the children hush, afraid any kind of misbehavior could ruin the show.

  “Orzo and Dumpy Dan will be here in just a moment…” she says. Behind her, a large, red clown shoe slips under the hem of the enormous velvet curtain. Reflexively, the children laugh. Natalie holds her hand up again, palm outward, asserting her authority.

  “It’s very important that we stay very, very quiet until the lights go on and the show starts, okay?” Natalie states as matter-of-factly as possible, maybe even a little more forceful this time.

  Goddamn these kids never behave. Does Springer deal with this shit? she thinks. Behind her, a bright yellow arm ending in a white-gloved hand holds up the “OK” sign.

  “Okay!” the children cheer back. Satisfied, Natalie takes her cue from the camera operators. She starts a count. “All right kids! We are live in five, four, three, two…” The last number was simply a single finger as Natalie scoots out off stage.

  The lights blaze in yellows and greens and blues. Music erupts from the large speakers. The stage comes alive as spotlights twirl around and around. The children in the audience erupt as Dumpy Dan, Orzo’s overweight hobo sidekick, and Orzo himself, complete with red wig, bulbous nose and yellow patchwork suit, explode onto the stage. Orzo’s large red smile shines under the TV lights, contrasting with his white cream make up, and the children crane their necks, desperate to see. Their happiness is tied directly to the smiling, bouncing clown.

  FADE IN:

  INT. ORZO SHOW STUDIO - DAY

  Dumpy Dan, a large man dressed as a hobo, is smiling and happy.

  DUMPY DAN: We’re baaaaack! That was the last commercial break!

  The stage reveals Dumpy Dan and ORZO THE CLOWN. Orzo is very similar to Bozo. The set is 80’s/90’s Clown Show standard. It resembles a circus with three rings and other trappings of the greatest show on earth. Orzo jumps around Dumpy Dan, singing. Dumpy Dan attempts to follow the dancing and circling Orzo and finally shakes his head in dizziness.

  ORZO: We’re back! We’re back! We’re back!

  Orzo suddenly stops and faces the camera.

  ORZO: That’s right, kiddos, we’re back. Me and Dumpy Dan were thinking…

  Close on Dan.

  DUMPY DAN: We were?

  Back to Orzo.

  ORZO: At least I was thinking. Wouldn’t it be great if the Orzo the Clown show came on EVERY day?

  SFX: Can CHEERS and APPLAUSE.

  Dan lumbers up to the side of Orzo. His eyes are wide and he is excited.

  DUMPY DAN: That would be the greatest thing ever! Every day with Orzo and Dumpy Dan!

  Orzo winks at the camera.

  ORZO: That’s right kids. Thanks to our friends at the great big TV station building, you can see Orzo every day…right after school!

  Dumpy Dan smiles and claps. He and Orzo dance. They link arms and spin in a circle. They sing.

  BOTH: Everyday with Orzo and Dan, every single day! After school with Orzo and Dan what a great way to play!

  Orzo stops and Dan continues on spinning out of control and doing a staged pratfall. Orzo shakes his head and smiles.

  ORZO: Five days a week with Dumpy Dan?

  Orzo shrugs his shoulders. Dan stumbles up, dizzy, to join the clown.

  ORZO: I guess it could be worse!

  Dan nods his head and stares off into space.

  DUMPY DAN: I’m okay. Didn’t hurt…

  Dan stumbles off. Orzo’s face fills the screen.

  ORZO: That’s all the time we have today, kiddos…

  SoundFX: Stock AWWWWWW.

  Orzo just nods.

  ORZO: But join us next time on…

  Dumpy Dan is back in frame and we have pulled out to reveal the set again.

  BOTH: The Orzo the Clown…

  DUMPY DAN: And Dumpy Dan!

  BOTH: Show!

  ORZO: And remember…the fun has just begun!

  The MUSIC rises, the children cheer in unison and we…

  The house lights hum to life and, as the children see their heroes in the harsh white of the fluorescents, the cheering dies a little bit. Orzo and Dumpy Dan, professionals, beam their large, toothy grins into the camera, desperately waiting for the floor director to pipe in and give them their cue. The studio PA address system crackles to life.

  “And we’re out,” a weary voice pours out of the speaker.

  From behind the lead camera, separating herself from the shadows, Natalie bursts forward holding two bottled waters and a clipboard. She hands a bottle to Orzo and then one to Dan. Behind her, a plump little boy of seven years old, complete with flushed cheeks peeks around her waist, smiling broadly. Orzo and Dan slump, exhausted, and suck down the water. The plump little boy pushes in front of Natalie and nearly tackles Dumpy Dan to the ground. The boy hugs the fat man tight causing Dan to flinch.

  “Whoa, Danny! Let your old man cool down after the show,” Dumpy Dan says, patting his son on the head.

  Orzo regards the father and son moment just long enough to sneer. He takes a deep breath and nods in Natalie’s general direction. Like a trained seal, she pulls up the clipboard and flips through the pages. Orzo turns and makes for the back of the studio. He needs to get beyond the lights, to the shadows. Natalie follows.

  Danny watches Orzo leave, his saucer eyes taking in every movement. Tugging on his father, Danny convinces the reluctant old hobo to follow Natalie and Orzo backstage.

  Despite his exhaustion, Orzo strides through the studio knowing full well he is responsible for keeping the lights on. The Orzo the Clown Show is in syndication. It is a big hit, Millions of children tune in every day.


  Every fucking day, Orzo thinks. Now, that’s some goddamn power.

  “Okay, you’ve got a mall opening in Paradise Bluffs in a couple of hours so don’t take off the make-up.” Natalie’s voice cuts into Orzo’s mental reverie like an electric knife through turkey. It sounds the same too.

  “Seriously? What the fuck, Nat? I told you not to book that shit so far apart. Now I’m stuck like this for the rest of the fucking day. Brilliant.” Orzo fishes a Camel from his costume and pats himself down, looking for a light. He stops suddenly and turns.

  Natalie already has the lighter out and lit. Orzo leans in, blazes up the Camel, and exhales.

  “Better?” Natalie asks.

  “Slightly.”

  “Good. We also need to go over the new action figure contracts before you leave.” At that, Orzo turns on his large, red heel and heads even deeper into the studio.

  Calls of “Good show, Orz!” and “Helluva show!” from the grip and lighting crew are met with Orzo’s patented smile and a short wave as he sucks on the Camel. It is half gone in the two minutes it takes to get to the dressing room.

  The door reads “Orzo the Clown” in gold lettering. It is one of only two permanent dressing rooms in the entire studio. Orzo stiff arms the door, flips on the lights, and slumps into the chair facing a large, lighted mirror. The clown turns, looking at himself in the mirror as the framed mirror lights blink on.

  “Can I lose the union suit after the mall thing?”

  “Nope. After that, you are scheduled for Children’s Hospital.”

  Orzo groans again. He raises a hand to scratch his face but stops short. The mirror is the three panel style which shows him his head from multiple angles. It feels as if he is staring down at himself. What Orzo sees is nothing more than greasy make-up trying to slap a happy face on a walking tragedy. Natalie looks up from her clipboard, concern flashing across her face. Orzo, thinking quickly, snaps out of his melancholia and gets the real Orzo back before he could be missed.

  “Jesus Christ! This new makeup is giving me zits like a high schooler. Can you make a call on that?”

  She sighs, relieved. “Of course.”

  Orzo slowly spins in the make-up chair. Like a roulette wheel, he lands on the mirror to his right. Orzo the Clown stares back out at him. Orzo’s smile droops, but his painted on smile doesn’t allow the frown to be recognized. Fuck, he thinks, this ain’t good. Orzo lowers his head into his hands, resting them on his wig, careful not to mess up the make-up.

  “Can I get a minute here alone, Nat?” he asks. Natalie nods. She hates when Orzo gets like this. She sighs and turns. Right behind her, with Danny in tow, Dumpy Dan impedes her progress. He is so close she smacks her forehead into his beefy chest.

  “Whoa! Hey, Natalie!” the always exuberant Dumpy Dan announces to the world. Nothing he ever does is quiet.

  Natalie, worried about Orzo and, through logical progression, her paycheck, skirts around the big man.

  “Hi, Dan…” she manages without looking up.

  Natalie bolts from the room. Dan watches her go, but all he can wrap his mind around is some sort of low-level affair between Orzo and the assistant. Dan is unsure why, but some of the best advice he had ever gotten flashes across his brain. It was from college and, he believed, his third junior year. A philosophy professor that Dan believed took a shine to him said, “Dan? You’re only smart enough to know that you are suffering,” Dan had held that to his chest for years, calling upon the quote in times of trouble. Odd that he would remember it just then. With a grunt, he pulls Danny into the room. Danny stumbles through the door and is ready to say something until he catches sight of Orzo. A smile that can only be described as beatific spread itself across Danny’s face and he positively glows in the presence of his idol.

  “Uuuh. Reggie?” Dan starts, Danny peaking from behind him. Orzo does not look up.

  “What?”

  “Dan Junior, Danny, is here. He just wanted to say hi.”

  At the mention of Danny, Orzo looks up and into the mirror. Reflecting back to the clown is his large assistant. Half-obscured behind his father’s meaty leg, Danny peeks out. Orzo smiles, but this one is different. If possible, it is even less authentic than the painted on red lips.

  “Hiya, kiddo,” Orzo says as he spins the chair around.

  Orzo stands slowly and turns toward Dan. Danny’s excitement clearly grows with every move that Orzo makes. Orzo nudges past Dan and squats in front of the boy. He takes Danny’s face in his hands gently, almost tender.

  “Uuuh…hi, Mr. Orzo…” Danny stammers.

  Orzo’s face falls into a false, show-business-clown frown.

  “Now what did I tell you about that? There’s no mister…you and me are pals and I’ve known your dad for-like-ever. Call me Uncle Orzo.”

  Danny’s face lights up. “Uncle Orzo.”

  Orzo’s smile returns and he doesn’t break eye contact with Danny. Dumpy Dan, getting a bit uncomfortable, attempts to get the conversation moving in a different direction.

  “You’re his hero, Reggie. He can’t stop talking about that day you took him to the zoo. ALL the kids were jealous!” Dan clears his throat, trying to break the eye contact between his son and the clown.

  Orzo doesn’t move.

  “I bet they were.” Orzo takes a last look at Danny, squinting his eyes. He sighs and clinches his eyes shut, hard. With visible effort, Orzo separates from the boy. He stands quickly and turns away from the father and son duo. Orzo stumbles a bit and braces himself on the make-up chair. The clown turns toward the mirrors again, back bowed, and leans on the chair.

  “Reggie? You all right?” Dumpy Dan asks and, like Natalie, his paycheck crept into his thought process.

  Orzo nods.

  “Just a headache all of a sudden. You guys should go.”

  Dan nods and grabs his son by the sleeve. Without a word, the sidekick and his junior head for the door. Danny doesn’t take his eyes off of Orzo.

  “Is Mr.…err, Uncle Orzo okay, Dad?”

  Orzo raises his head. The old smile is back. He manages a quick wave as Dumpy Dan pulls Danny from the room.

  “I’m fine, kiddo. Just need a rest. Wait, Dan!”

  Dumpy Dan stops short and turns to his boss. His eyes are wide, like some little tidbit of information just made it through his brain and it caused a light bulb to go off in a dark room. A very dark room.

  “Yeah, Reggie?”

  “Could you let Natalie know that I have to cancel today’s appointments?”

  “Sure. What should I tell her?”

  Orzo turns back to the mirror and stares back at himself from three different angles.

  “Tell her something came up. I’ve got a few things to take care of.”

  Dan takes that in and waits a beat…then another. He isn’t sure if it is the end of the request.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yup.”

  Dan exhales, audibly relieved. He drags his son from the room. Danny, though, stares at Orzo the entire length of time it takes to leave, even as his father rounds a corner.

  Orzo continues to stare into the mirror.

  Chapter Two

  The limited edition, bright red corvette turns on a dime. The tires screech, smoke and come to a stop in the driveway of a mid-sized suburban home. It doesn’t look like the home of a major television star. In fact, it looks exactly like the kind of home a major television star might buy in order to not look like a major television star. Decked out in Archie Bunker chic, complete with overgrown lawn and a mailbox that resembles a birdhouse, the bright red corvette looks out of place. This, of course, seems less odd when the driver emerges from the flashy sports car.

  Orzo, still in full costume, takes no notice of his less-than-stellar parking job and rushes toward the front door of the house. He scans for neigh
bors on either side and, seeing none, ducks into the one story American Dream special.

  Orzo makes sure the front door shuts behind him. He locks it without looking and, stepping lively, he heads into the darkened living room. He moves straight to the door to the basement that spans between the living area to the dining area. If Orzo had stopped to notice he would realize that the furnishings in the home look like the set of a sitcom. Not even his private life could escape the black hole of showbiz. Well, at least this level of his private life. There is another level.

  Deep down inside Orzo the Clown is a little boy named Reggie Bent. Reggie grew up in a small home just like this in a safe suburb in Michigan. His father was a teacher and his mother was a homemaker. From an early age, Reggie knew he was different. His father would tell him so…sometimes he would even show Reggie how different he was. The difference between men and boys and how much there was for young boys to learn from their teachers was a favorite subject in the Bent household. Mr. Bent would teach his prize pupil while Mrs. Bent dove headfirst into the bottles of wine a teacher’s salary could afford. Orzo was born during that time. When the lessons from Mr. Bent became too much, Orzo would step in. He would make Reggie laugh and soon all thoughts of his lessons were banished to a deep, dark place…for a time. Once Mr. Bent died and Mrs. Bent set up shop inside a bottle for the last time all those lessons that Reggie learned reared their ugly heads. It is like riding a bike and, with Orzo’s help, there is an unlimited supply of new students.

  The trek across the living room takes no more than three steps but he is breathing heavily and sweating. The closer Orzo comes to the basement door, the more his breath catches and the more perspiration beads on top of the heavy, white grease make-up. He stops at the door to the basement, hand outstretched for the knob. Orzo’s breathing has become more ragged and he labors at it. His face twitches into a smile and, with a strangled giggle, the TV clown grasps and turns the knob. Five, four, three, two…just the finger (must be quiet, we’re going live). It is time.

  The darkness of the basement makes the dim living room positively glow. Orzo descends the wooden stairs, big red clown shoe after big red clown shoe. Creak. Creak. ‘Must not rush,’ his father would instruct, ‘never rush.’ Seven creaks, just like usual, and Orzo reaches his hand to the wall, flipping the switch.