By Larry Shurilla
It began simply enough, but then again, most disasters, manmade or natural, usually do. He came dressed in a hobo outfit under the guise of a circus custodian-a clown if you will, but this clown was known as The Red Skeleton. His deceptively simple act of meandering to the center of the third darkened ring, mop slung over shoulder, lured one into thinking this was just another end-of-the-show clean-up act. A time to get up out of your caramel popcorn coated seat and head to the exits, but then the unthinkable began.
After the mop was randomly flopped down, this “clown” began to sweep the remaining spotlight residue in a curious circular motion. By some diabolical means, unbeknownst just men and women, this witchlike stirring began to extinguish the light! Swish by swish and swash by swash, the once bright circle of floodlight began to diminish, and like a receding hairline, soon all that remained of the brightly illuminated floor was a bright tuft in the very center of the ring.
The Red Skeleton then revealed his blackhole of a soul when he paused, resting his chin on the top of his malicious “mop,” tilted his head toward the stunned circus crowd and with his painted-on smile bared a toothless grin and whispered, “Good night, folks!”
Grabbing his broom-mop, with one final swish-thrust, The Red Skeleton killed the last sparkle of light and left our world with the lone lesser half of creation-darkness. His heist complete, the last glint of light goblined away, The Red Skeleton disappeared into that enveloping darkness from which he…
“Hey Larry!”
“What?! What’dya want, Paul? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“You do know it’s Red Skelton, not Skeleton, right? And wasn’t it Carol Burnett who did that light mopping bit, anyway?”
“Yeah, Yeah, just go back to your Fortnite, Paul. Happy Halloween, blah, blah, blah…”
…and The Red Skeleton vanished into that darkest void from which he sprang, hobo suit, mystical mop, weathered hat, well burned cigar and all.
